George Mann - The Immorality Engine

Still holding on to Amelia, the doppelganger’s head lolled back, its eyes rolled up in its sockets, and it began babbling under its breath. “Cracking walls and fire and pain. Brass engines of destruction will tear down the world, and the man with the white face shall come out of the darkness. The one who sits in the chair. She is the key. She is the nightmare at the eye of the storm.”

Amelia screamed. It was describing the contents of her vision. It was impossible. She wondered for a moment if she were already dead, if this were some sort of terrible purgatory, if she were hallucinating because of the fire, or because of her illness. She didn’t know what to think. But she knew she had to get away from the creature, somehow. She couldn’t bear to look at it any longer, with its dark, feral eyes; the way it screeched like an animal.

Acting purely on instinct, Amelia slapped the duplicate brutally across the face once, twice, three times, until the creature’s eyes snapped back into place, its head rocked forwards, and it was once again glaring at Amelia with smouldering, animalistic menace.

Amelia raised her leg and jabbed her foot into the duplicate’s abdomen. It doubled over, howling in shock, emitting a harrowing screech that chilled Amelia to the bone. It lunged at her, its nails raking her cheek as it tried urgently to scratch out her eyes. Amelia flailed her arms in an effort to defend herself, doing whatever she could to keep the crazed thing at bay.

Suddenly she remembered the poker she had hidden in the folds of her blanket. She grabbed for it, feeling its cold, hard shaft beneath the wool. With one hand she fought to extract it while using the other to fend off the mad doppelganger as best she could. She wasn’t strong enough, however. The creature batted her arm away and lurched forward, grabbing her head between its hands and squeezing, as if trying to crack open her skull with its bare hands. “Let the demons out!” it screeched. “Free the spirits! Save yo-”

The words turned into a gurgle as Amelia thrust the poker deep into the duplicate’s belly. Warm blood gushed over her hands and knees. She sobbed as the creature continued its assault, still gnashing its teeth and attempting to prise open her skull. She thrust the poker deeper inside the thing, twisting it, trying anything to get it to stop. She didn’t know what else she could do.

And then, as quickly as the attack had come, it stopped.

Amelia, gasping, peeled open her eyes. Dr. Fabian was there, struggling with the duplicate as he hauled it off Amelia, dragging it back towards the open door. The black shaft of the poker was still protruding from its belly, blood coursing down its legs, staining the front of its white nightdress. The duplicate kicked and snarled, gouging great scratches in Fabian’s arms, but he held it fast, whimpering with pain as he fought to stay upright on his damaged leg.

With an almighty effort, Fabian pitched around and hurled the duplicate out the doorway and into the raging inferno. Amelia heard it cry out, and she caught one final glimpse of it as the hungry flames took to its hair, creating a halo of flickering fire around its head. Then it turned and bolted down the corridor to its death.

Amelia felt nauseated. Her mind was reeling, trying to process what she had just seen. She didn’t know what to think, how to feel. She could hardly believe the atrocity she had just witnessed.

Amelia tried to get out of her chair, but she simply didn’t have the strength to lift herself, not after the attack. Blood was streaming down her cheek in a warm trickle. She turned to Fabian. “You did this,” she said, her tone accusing. “You told me you were trying to help me. You were always there for me, always by my side. I trusted you! And this is what you’ve been doing? Copying me! Experimenting on me! Turning me into a curiosity for your laboratory games.” She sobbed, more out of rage than fear. “Was this why I was so important? Why you had to come here to save me? So you could continue with your disgusting experiments?” Fabian simply glared at her, his jaw fixed. “Get out. Get out of here, now!” She gestured towards the door, then wiped the dripping blood from her chin with the back of her hand. She would rather die in the fire than allow Dr. Fabian to continue to exploit her, to turn her into more perversions of nature like the one she had just encountered. That was a transgression she could never, ever forgive. A violation. An atrocity.

Fabian’s face seemed to darken. His forehead creased into a harsh frown. He began creeping towards her again, but this time she knew it was not altruism that was driving him, but greed. “You ridiculous little girl,” he snapped. “You ungrateful, snivelling wretch of a woman. After all I’ve done for you!” He limped across the carpet towards her, dragging his leg. “You’re coming with me. You’re my way out of all of this. You’re the only one that ever worked.”

Amelia knew then that she had to get away. Out of options, she flung herself out of her chair and onto the floor, landing on her belly and jarring her elbow. She grabbed fistfuls of the carpet in her still-bloody fingers and began to pull herself across the ground, trying desperately to get away from the monster that had once been Dr. Fabian. She could barely believe it was the same man who had been so kind to her, who had helped her through her seizures and spent long hours in the chair beside her bed, ensuring she was safe. Protecting his investment, she realised with a sense of dawning horror. It was all pretence, every moment of it. The very thought of it made her skin crawl.

Ahead, Amelia could see the French doors that looked out over the garden. They were locked, as they had always been locked, and Amelia realised that she really had been contained in a prison, and that Veronica had been kept away purely to prevent her from discovering the truth. She’d been a fool to fall for it, for Fabian’s false charms. All along, the locked doors should have told her what was going on. Nevertheless, locked or not, the French doors were her only hope of freedom. If she could get to them, she might be able to smash them and climb out.

Just as her fingertips encountered the glass, however, Fabian caught her by the ankles and dragged her away from the doors, turning her forcefully over onto her back. She cried out, and he grinned down at her from above, his face contorted into a sneer. She kicked out at him weakly, and he raised his arm and backhanded her savagely across the face. The pain was like an explosion in her head.

“Stay still, you little bitch!”

Amelia fought as he grabbed for her arms, trying to pin them by her sides. She realised she was sobbing, tears of desperation coursing down her cheeks. “Get off me, get off me, get off me,” were the only words she could find, and she repeated them over and over like a mantra. “Get off me…” But Fabian had hold of her wrists now, squeezing them painfully as he forced her into submission.

“We’re leaving,” he said as he stooped to try to pick her up.

And that was when she saw the white-faced man over his shoulder.

Amelia screamed. Mr. Calverton was there behind Fabian, his strange, blue, unblinking eyes staring down at her, just as she’d seen in her visions. Any hope she had left dissipated at that moment, and she ceased struggling. She knew she’d never be able to fight both of them. It was over. She was about to die.

Fabian grinned.

Mr. Calverton, still unseen by the doctor, reached for her as if to help Fabian subdue her. Amelia issued a low, desperate moan. And then, through the veil of tears, she saw something she’d never even imagined in her dreams.

Mr. Calverton had his hands around Fabian’s throat.

Fabian attempted to shout something, but it came out as only a strangled gurgle as Mr. Calverton wrapped his white-gloved fingers around Fabian’s neck and used his thumbs to crush the doctor’s windpipe.