The prism-like window of thick glass looks out upon an immense vault of reinforced concrete, 500 feet deep and 200 feet square, gray and severe from top to bottom, an overwrought example of paranoid Cold War architecture. The sterility of the vault, however, is contradicted by its massive clock-work ceiling, a complicated field of gears and pulley systems that takes Eudora’s breathe away. Monroe had shown her this room several months ago, but from a lower floor that hadn’t offered a complete view. Typical of Monroe, he hadn’t offered much in the way of explanation, saying only that this was the largest space in the Tomb, so Eudora had thought it simply an over-sized ventilation shaft, notable only for the sheer scale. Standing here now, it is obvious that the purpose of this room is far more interesting than the distribution of stale air.
“Is it…some kind of clock,” she asks.
Walton, standing beside her at the long window, his breathing nearly stabilized, points out the window. “See that chain?”
Eudora’s eyes search for a moment, quickly spotting the arm-thick chain descending from the center of the vast mechanism. “Yes, I see it.”
“At the end of that chain is our boy.”
Eudora follows the path of the chain as it drops five hundred feet to the floor below. There is a figure in the center of the room, tiny at this distance, but Eudora knows it is Raymond in his battlesuit. The chain, appearing no wider than sewing thread, is attached to his back. Walton motions to a row of head-sized bubbles set into the bottom pane of the window.
“Use these.”
Bending closer to the convex bowel in front of her, Eudora is surprised to see Raymond up-close and in detail, magnified nearly a hundred times in the curvature of the glass.
“Clever, aren’t they? This room used to fill up with Generals and politicians back in the day. Not anymore though.”
“What is he doing?”
“Waiting for the door to open.”
“Door?” Eudora adjusts her angle until she finds a large arched door embedded in the far wall of the vault, its dark surface shimmering with a strange light. “Is that…obsidian?”
“Goethite. Basically sea shell. Harder than diamond.”
“Did you build it?”
“Of course not,” snaps Walton.
“Well, I’ve never heard of such a material,” Eudora says, thinking of the journal Raymond had given her only an hour before, and of the small crimson seashells glued across its cover. The strange book was now tucked precariously in the waistband of her skirt, concealed under her blouse, the jagged little shells scratching her skin whenever she moved. Eudora had forgotten about it once she had seen the vault and its great mechanical ceiling, but now she runs a cautious hand over the small of her back, making sure the book is still secure. Just then, as if reading her mind, three staff guards enter the observation room. They pause, eyeing Eudora and Walton for a quick moment before wordlessly shambling to the window, each man pressing his hideous face into one of the unoccupied viewing bubbles. Eudora is grateful she isn’t on the other side of the great window, seeing those three faces magnified like warped, bug-eyed gargoyles leering down at her. Again as if on cue, the guards begin to chatter excitedly.
“Pay attention! Look,” barks Walton.
Eudora looks through her magnifying bubble to see the black door opening. She recoils suddenly as a shape crawls through the doorway. “What is that!?”
“How should I know?”
“It looks like a spider…a giant spider…”
“It’s not. Be quiet and watch.”
Eudora returns to the window. At first glance the creature does appear to be some sort of gigantic arachnid, with multiple legs connected to a wide center body, but Walton is right: it is not a spider. Peering through the magnifying window Eudora sees that the legs are in fact elongated human arms, ending in over-sized human hands. The creature’s body is a red-hued translucent sac through which she can see the creature’s simple organs pumping furiously. The head is a nonsensical mass of twitching worms set at the end of a long, fleshy stalk. The entire animal is roughly the size of an armored bank car, and is crawling towards Raymond quickly, twice his size. The glass rattles as Raymond fires one of his weapons at the creature, and again Eudora pulls away from the window in fright. She looks up as the mechanical ceiling heaves to life, its mad network of gears churning excitedly as the heavy chain is retracted in a blur. Eudora sees Raymond though the window, rising towards her at the end of the chain, still firing down at the spider-thing. The guards next to her hoot and gibber like angry apes, pounding the glass with their fists. Walton himself is caught up in the moment, shouting at Raymond through the window, “Lazy! Same as last time! You’re getting damned lazy!” Eudora’s heart plunges into her stomach as she sees Raymond release from the chain, still two hundred feet in the air. He plummets towards the creature, blasting away with both guns, the sound amplified by the vault into bone-rattling thunder. To Eudora’s shock, Raymond lands on the creature like a missile, sending both man and monster rolling end over end. Before the long-limbed spider can regain its feet, Raymond attacks, swinging a large silver axe with both hands. In one stroke he removes two of the creature’s arms, then aims a blow at its exposed neck, severing it cleanly. Eudora hears Walton exhale deeply, but she feels no such relief, her stomach churning as Raymond continues to disassemble the spider-thing’s still moving body. Before long she must to turn away from the gruesome sight.
“It’s usually not so easy,” says Walton, his mood brightened.
Eudora turns to him, furious, “Tell me what that thing was.” She notices Walton’s eyes dart past her. She turns to see the three guards staring at the old man, their scarred faces unanimous in unspoken warning. “Never mind them, tell me what that was.”
Walton shakes his head. “Just be glad our boy killed it.”
Part 1:https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song
Part 2: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-2
Part 3: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-3
Part 4: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-4
Part 5: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-5
Part 6: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-6
Part 7: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-7
Part 8: https://steemit.com/horror/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-8
Part 9: https://steemit.com/writing/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-10
Part 10: https://steemit.com/writing/@senderos/3fmcns-the-nightmare-song-part-10
Part 11: https://steemit.com/writing/@senderos/the-nightmare-song-part-11
Photo by Amanda CharchianStory by Daniel Capuzzi, 2016. All copyrights apply.