Death in the Black Wood, Oliver Davies [short story to read TXT] 📗

the doors were a real problem. The little tools in my armband could deal with this manacle and the cell door easily enough but that thing? No chance! So much for the idea of letting myself out and sneaking upstairs to surprise him in his sleep. I’d have to deal with him down here. Well, I’d been expecting that, but it was still disappointing.

I emptied my bladder over the little drain and went to see if the mattress was stuck to the floor or loose. It was loose. It was a thin little thing but better than nothing. I dragged it over to the wall and bent it in half so that I’d have a padded back rest to lean against as I sat and waited. Was it after noon yet? I couldn’t tell. It depended how long I’d been out for.

Conall was going to be so pissed when he got that message but maybe he’d have calmed down enough to be reasonable by the time I got out of here. If I got out of here. Things were going pretty well, so far, but I still didn’t like my chances. He’d call Uncle Danny, wouldn’t he? Yes, he would. Not doing so would be as unthinkable to him as it would be to me if our situations were reversed. Whatever happened, Con wouldn’t have to deal with everything by himself.

I settled down to wait. I had plenty of books to choose from and a good music library stored away too. Or maybe I would dip into some good memories instead, revisit some of my favourite days.

Twenty-Eight

The Ally

It, or he, didn’t understand a word I said. It just looked curiously at me whenever I tried to ask it anything until it got bored and its attention wandered. I think it was starting to get a little annoyed by the taser and the pokes I gave it with the cattle prod, but it never showed any sign that it found those jolts in the least bit painful. It was more as if, now that the novelty of a new sensation had worn off, it didn’t find it amusing any more.

It hadn’t touched any of the food I’d thrown in there yesterday either. It had picked up the first sandwich and turned it over and over, staring at the cling film and testing it with its tongue. I’d even unwrapped one myself in front of it so it could see what to do. It had found a loose end to pull at, which had kept it happily occupied for a while, but once it had opened it up and sniffed at the contents, it had screwed up its face in disgust and tossed it aside. It seemed to like the cling film though. It had played with that for ages before it got bored with it. If it was hungry, it certainly wasn’t showing any sign of it.

Today, at my Companion’s suggestion, I was trying something different. I gave it a couple of good jolts before going in there and injecting it. What would a subcutaneous dose of LSD do to its brain? At first, I thought the acid wasn’t doing anything at all, but after a good while, I could see some signs of a change in its behaviour. Its eyes began to flick about, and it licked its lips, frowning.

I moved my chair and the heater a little closer to the bars and turned another light on before sitting down again. The brightness made it hiss quietly, and it squeezed its eyes shut before cautiously opening then again with a series of rapid blinks. A little, catlike sneeze followed.

“I think it’s starting to feel it.”

“Yes, I believe it is.” As before, its reaction to the Companion’s voice was very different to its reaction to mine. It scowled and bared its teeth whenever it heard that.

The warrior had become very agitated when I’d done this to it, pulling futilely at its chains and making all kinds of threats before swiping at invisible attackers and eventually collapsing into a sobbing heap, banging its stolen head against the floor. I’d had to sedate it quickly when it started doing that.

This one was reacting much less strongly. It hadn’t even stirred from the comfortable seat it had arranged for itself. That had been surprising, such a simple, clever thing to do. None of the others had thought of using the mattress like that, even when they’d been able to move freely enough to do so. There was something very feline in the way it moved, when it did move, and I’d seen it sprawled out in the most unlikely positions, perfectly at ease.

It certainly hadn’t shown any signs of being dangerous, not yet anyway. It didn’t seem frightened or angry or even impatient. Just alternately curious, bored, then curious again. For now, we were happy to keep observing it, but if it couldn’t tell us anything useful, we’d probably kill it soon.

It was moving now. It crouched down in the middle of the floor and began to draw a pattern in the air with its fingertip, concentrating intensely, turning slowly as it did so. It was making a soft humming sound too, an eerie, disturbing little repeating melody. It would rise to a really high, nasal pitch and stay there for a while, putting my teeth on edge, before dropping to begin all over again.

“Stop that!” the Companion snapped. It ignored him. It had its back to us by then, half its circle completed.

“I’m not sure he can even hear us just now. That acid’s got him away with the fairies alright.”

“What?”

“You know, off in a dreamworld. It’s a saying. He’s probably hearing and seeing things that aren’t there. We gave him a good dose of acid.”

“Away with the fairies… your people still say that? Even now?”

“Sure. Why?”

“It’s nothing. Your racial memory holds more old truths than I expected, that is all. You wanted to know what that creature is? I believe