P. Elrod - The Hanged Man

The prisoner’s eyes were closed and he took no notice of them, even when Brook shook him a little. He tested the chains.

“Miss Pendlebury, will your picks defeat these locks? They’re smaller.”

“Shooting’s faster.”

“And more dangerous. Noise and ricochets, you know.”

“Let me try,” said Fingate.

“You can crack locks?” asked Brook.

“Who do you think taught me?” Alex tossed the ring at Fingate.

The prisoner remained silent, fingers tapping empty air.

The chamber was swathed, ceiling to stone floor, in thick red velvet draperies. Little wonder Dr. Hamish had thought of the opera; they had the look of stage curtains. Alex’s heart thumped. She cautiously approached the wall in front of the dozing man.

A few experimental delvings to find an edge and she pulled a long length of heavy velvet away to reveal a mirror under it. Her startled reflection floated in red-tinted shadows.

The mirror was enormous, four feet wide and twice as tall and encased in an iron grid like a cage which was bolted to the wall. Near the bottom the caging had a thick iron mesh door just over a foot square with a padlock attached. She could have slipped through such an opening, but not a grown man.

She twitched aside another sheeting of velvet and found another mirror, this one without a door in its cage. Alex and Brook worked their way around. The lantern’s light reflected a dozen times over in cage encased mirrors that lined all four walls. They were well made, no warps or ripples in their silvery finish.

Sybil’s cheerful command came fresh to Alex’s mind: Break them. Break all of them and damn the bad luck, think of England!

“How the devil did they get these things down here and why would anyone bother?” asked Brook. “And these bars-?”

“Somehow they interfere with Sybil’s ability. That must be worth much to anyone planning an action that she might foretell. Progress, Mr. Fingate?”

“A few more to go.”

The man in the chair suddenly raised his head, blinking. He shook hair from his wild eyes. “Get out of here,” he said in a high, strong voice. “Kill me and then GET OUT!”

“Let’s get you out as well, old lad,” said Brook in a kindly tone.

“Douse that light for God’s pity!”

Fingate hesitated. “Sir, calm yourself and explain why.”

“You won’t believe me. More of them will come and then you’ll die.”

“Keep at it,” said Alex, holding steady. The man was terrified, but it wouldn’t do to catch it from him.

Fingate bent to the work, not easy when the captive began howling and thrashing against his bonds. “You’ll be killed! Take the light away!” Weakness quickly asserted itself, though. He broke off, coughing and gasping.

“Who put you here?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“You’re Mr. Benedict?”

“Probably, now please have the courage to kill me and then get out.”

“Why do you want to die?”

“I don’t want to, but I need to. You bloody stupid girl! Kill me and get out! ”

Alex made encouraging motions at Fingate to continue, then returned to the walls, pulling the velvet away so she could peer behind one of the mirrors: solid brick, at least in that spot. “Why mirrors in a dark room? Why cage and cover them?”

“They’ll see the light. You don’t want them to see it.”

“Benedict, are you a Seer?”

“I’m a conduit for hell. Will you listen to me? At least get that lantern out of here. They’re attracted to the light.”

“Who?”

“Oh, God, too late, too late! Run, you fools! Run while you can!”

“No one in the hall,” reported Brook.

“Not there!” The man’s gaze fixed on the mirror in front of him. “ That one. It’s seen this side and will come through. You can’t fight, just run.” Tears flowed from his eyes and his voice cracked. “Run!”

Alex went toward the mirror. Something seemed to be moving in it. Gooseflesh raised on her arms until she realized it was simply the kind of deception mediums used to hoodwink willing clients. The silver on the back must have been rubbed away, allowing whatever was behind it to show through the glass. The wall would have an opening and someone in the next room over was playing ghost, probably wrapped up in layers of gauzy muslin yardage.

With caution, she opened her inner senses to whatever might be before her. Just a crack … or the madman’s emotions would flood in and overwhelm her.

Benedict shrieked, throwing himself around, hampering Fingate’s efforts.

As she got closer, the mirror’s surface silently ripped .

She shrank away, staring at the opening-

— and instantly recognized the enormous knotted hand with fingers much too long to be human that came questing out of the darkness.

A simian face, eyes alight with malice, appeared on the other side of the cage. Those iron bars now seemed as frail as straw. Without thought, Alex raised her gun and fired, pulling the trigger until she ran out of bullets.

Glass did not shatter. The missiles connected with a solid body, which swayed, but continued to press forward. The hand grasped at her through the bars, talons brushing down the front of her gown, shredding the silk to rags.

She’d gotten a head shot, though. The top of the thing’s skull was gone, but the vast body kept coming, emerging from the impossible mirror and slamming hard into the iron, bending it. Two of the upper bolts set into the brick wall jarred loose. The great weight against the cage snapped the next two, and then cage, mirror, and the beast in between tipped and tumbled over.

Alex dodged barely in time. The glass was cushioned by the creature’s body, but its own weight cracked it lengthwise in the middle.

She looked to the others. Brook had his pistol ready, but he’d clearly been caught flatfooted. Fingate was in shock, and the madman’s head was bowed as though he were praying.

“Kill the light. Kill me,” Benedict whispered. “This must stop. Kill me. Kill me, damn you.”

Light … bloody hell.

She grabbed the lantern and barged past Brook. He followed her, dragging Fingate. They threw the bolt, but with the padlock gone could not secure it.

“You see?” Benedict cried from the darkness. “You SEE ?”

* * *

“We won’t leave him there,” Alex pronounced.

“We just did,” said Brook.

“I’ll apologize to him about collective panic later.”

Recovery of speech had been tardy in the aftermath of such a horror, but her racing mind made up for it. She’d worked out a plan long before her companions had caught their breath.

“Fingate, you can still crack locks with your eyes shut, yes?”

“My hands aren’t steady just now. What in God’s name was that?”

“We don’t know, but if we keep the lantern away from the mirrors it should be safe enough.”

“ Should be?”

She broke open the Webley and reloaded. “Mr. Brook, I would be obliged if you would watch from the hall in case our noise has alerted anyone to investigate.”

“I prefer to be in the room.”

“Orders, Lieutenant. It’s going to get much noisier and I need to move freely. Sybil gave me orders as well, and I’d rather have our escape clear with someone watching our backs.” Without waiting, Alex worked the bolt and eased the door open. “Mr. Benedict?”

“Fools and blackguards,” he grumbled. “I’m surrounded by fools, blackguards, and monsters from hell’s heart.”

“No doubt. Has another of those beasts appeared?”

“If it had, you’d be dead by now.”

“Why not yourself?”

“They need me to be able to come through. None safer from them than I.”