Here's Chapter 7.
Regret’
Doctor Dewar
awoke under the autopsy table two hours after her creation had knocked her
there, leaving her for dead. When
Lucille tried to get up, she needed the support of the table to assist the move
and was feeling very unstable, physically and mentally.
After a few
minutes of dizziness, she was able to stand by herself. It was then that she began to reflect on the
miracle that had occurred earlier in the night.
She had created life! Her experiment was a success. Yes, the experiment, the new life, had tried
to kill her and was probably now running, confused, around the countryside, but
it had been a success.
And the success was far greater, and more immediate
than she had dreamed it could be. She
expected, at the most, subtle indications that the creation was alive. A faint pulse; weak, steady beeps on the
heart monitor; reflexive movement to pin pricks; those sorts of things. But this girl was immediately and fully alive
and hyper aware. She had expected great strength, but not so soon. The way she just picked up the heart monitor
and threw it at Yune –
Yune! Where was he?
Lucille began looking around the laboratory. She yelled his name. She remembered their hiding place, and when
she glanced in that direction, saw a pool of blood coming from under the
desk. She slowly walked over to the
desk, walking on her tippy-toes to keep the rather copious amounts of blood
from getting on her shoes.
When she
looked behind the desk, she found Yune Mune.
His body was mutilated, ripped apart, torn limb from limb, and left in a
heap. “My God,” was all the doctor could
say before she vomited.
“I must find her,” was what she was thinking as she
was vomiting.
Deep in her brain, Doctor Lucille Dewar was starting
to form the seeds of doubt about the morality of her experiment. In her attempt to make a being that didn’t
need love from others, had she inadvertently created a killing machine? But that thought was deep in her
subconscious, slowly percolating. In her
conscious mind she could still, and did, justify all the death, even Yune’s, as
being for the greater good. Even her own
death, thought Lucille, would have been worth the manufacture of a new creature
that didn’t need love.
“I must find her,” she said.
When Lucille left Copper Acropolis to search for her
‘daughter’, she took with her a shotgun and an axe.
It was some
time later that night when Lucille stumbled upon the bed of crushed grass where
Birt Gill was loved to death. His limp,
partially naked body was still lying there, just as Newgirl had left it.
She put down the shotgun and the axe and went to the body to
inspect it.
It was quite
obvious to Lucille that this boy had been in the middle of sexual intercourse
when he died. The boy had suffered his Big Death before he achieved his Little
Death. The evidence was standing
straight up, looking right at her.
After her
cursory inspection of the body, Lucille looked around the field of grass,
hoping to see her creation lying asleep somewhere, but she saw nothing. Of course, she knew that her Amalga-Girl
could not have done this killing because Amalga-Girl does not need love. It must have been the boy that tried to force
himself on her, and she killed him in self defence. That must have been the reason. Although that
is what she tried to believe, she knew, somehow, that that was likely not the
reason. The seed of doubt that had
earlier percolated in her subconscious was now starting to bubble up into her
consciousness.
There, leaning over the dead innocent boy, Doctor
Dewar had, for the briefest of moments, her first conscious thought that she
had done a very bad thing. But Lucille pushed the thought away, and focused her
attention on what to do now, her next course of action. Lucille decided she had better get rid of the
evidence, the body of the boy, until she figured out a better plan.
She picked
up the axe, and swung it at the boy, attempting to cut the body into smaller
pieces. The axe hit his wrist, severing
the hand. The force of the blow caused
the hand to fly up and hit Lucille in the groin. The pain caused her to lose her
concentration, and again the bubbling grounds of doubt ran through her
mind. She began to cry, and once she
started, it quickly erupted into wild screaming, mad at herself for even trying
such an immoral experiment, and mad at herself for possibly failing at it. She needed to hit something. She raised the axe above her head, to swing
at the body again. Tears were streaming
down her face.
“Freeze!”
came the voice of authority through Lucille’s screams. It caused her to stop her swing.
“Freeze, or
I’ll shoot you right here.” It was
Constable Maubery.
Doctor Dewar
saw the Constable, standing about thirty yards away, pointing his revolver at
her. Behind him stood Art Schprengel,
Guy Maddox, and about five other men, all with weapons. There was also a boy. It was Cecil McNeill. He had been the one who saw Newgirl with Birt
Gill, and had run off. He ran to get
help, hence this posse.
Lucille
dropped the axe, and fell to the ground, unable to stand. The strain of her emotional and moral
collapse had caused this physical one.
“Is that the
one you saw?” asked Constable Maubery.
The question was directed at young Cecil.
“It coulda
been,” replied Cecil. “It was kinda
dark’n’all.”
“Well, is
it, or ain’t it?” yelled Art Schprengel.
“Yeah, I
guess it is.”
“Alright,
Cecil,” said the Constable, “you run along home, and mind yourself.”
“Yessir,”
said Cecil, and he ran off. He didn’t
like being there, near that death, the strange death he had witnessed, and he
didn’t need to be told twice to go.
Constable
Maubery looked at the woman on her knees, over a dead boy. He couldn’t quite see who it was at that
distance. “What’s your name?” he yelled.
“Doctor
Lucille Dewar,” came the quiet reply.
The posse
began murmuring at that news, but the Constable quickly quieted them down, although
he never took his eyes off her. He
returned his attention to her. “I’m
coming over there,” he stated.
The Constable
carefully walked towards Lucille and the body.
Lucille never moved a muscle as he approached. He stepped over the boy’s severed hand, which
was lying palm up on the trampled grass, reached down and grabbed the axe. He threw it over in the direction of the
posse. He then grabbed Doctor Dewar by
the arm, lifted her to her feet, and moved her away from the dead body. She didn’t resist.
They moved
down by the lake and sat on a log.
Neither of them said a word for about two minutes, as the rest of the
posse moved as a unit, first over to look at the body, then down to the two by
the lake.
Finally,
Doctor Lucille Dewar spoke. “I caused
that boy’s death.”
The
Constable looked at her. “You’re
admitting that you killed Birt Gill?”
“No,” said
Lucille, “I didn’t kill him, but I caused his death.”
“If you
didn’t kill him,” said Art Schprengel, “then who did?”
“I’ll bet it
was that yellow fornicator what was always hangin’ around her,” yelled Guy
Maddox.
“Shut up,
boys,” said Constable Maubery. “I’m
doing the interrogating here.”
Constable Maubery sounded like he was madder at the
boys than he was at the woman that caused the death. The boys didn’t think that was fair.
“While
you’re interrogatin’ her, Constable,” said Dr. Yeo, walking down to the lake
having finished his preliminary scan of the body, “ask her if she knows who all
raped that boy.”
Constable
Maubery looked at the Doctor Yeo. “You
don’t think someone raped that boy, do you, Doc?”
Of course, the Constable knew that the doctor did think
that, he wouldn’t have said it otherwise.
Still, the information had shocked the stupid question out of the
Constable.
“No, I don’t
think some one raped the boy,” said Dr. Yeo.
He was from
autopsy of the remains of the murdered girls when the Constable asked him to
join the posse. “By the looks of that
boy, the amount of fluids on and around him, I’d say he was gang raped. That’s what killed him.”
“So, what’re
we after, then,” said Art, cocking his rifle, “a wild gang of homo-sexuals?”
“It wasn’t
men who raped him,” said Dr. Yeo. “I’d
say it was women.”
Everyone of
the men, including Constable Maubery, looked at Dr. Yeo. For a moment, it was quiet, as each of the
men imagined themselves as the victim of a sexual attack by a gang of wild
women.
“It wasn’t
women,” said Doctor Dewar. “It was
girls.”
Everyone
looked at her.
“What
girls?” asked the Constable.
“My
daughter, for one,” said Lucille, looking at Constable Maubery. “For one, and for all.”
“You have a
daughter?” he asked, surprised.
Doctor
Lucille Dewar looked at each man in the posse, then said, “I have all our
daughters.”
She then
began to tell the long sad regretful story that was her experiment, her life,
and that had culminated in Birt Gill being gang raped by one person, several
beings.
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Next - Chapter 8 - "The Long Dark Truthful Mirror"
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