Necros Laboratory: Mortis & Lucy

On cold days like this one there’s nothing quite like curling up in dressing gown with the fire on. I’m bundled up in my chair along with my darling child. She snores gently, like a kitten. The way she wriggles from dreaming in that sunshine yellow onesie warms my heart on a winter’s day like this one. Her presence seems to also have caught the attention of Maurice, who’s peering gently over at Lucy in my arms. His large frame barely stays settled on the couch as it is and it’s reaching the point where I’m concerned he’ll topple himself over. In spite of this, his focus seems solely set on little Lucy. Not even the cartoons on the television have his attention. When he’s not with Nigel I can usually plop him right of the thing so as to keep him out of trouble. Lord knows what problems would arise if he were without supervision. That childlike glimmer of curiosity in his eyes is starting to play into my motherly instincts however.

I cave in.

“Would you like to hold her Maurice?” I ask, speaking gently and clearly so he’ll understand. 

Maurice erupts into a small bout of excitement, grinning and nodding enthusiastically.

“Alright but you need to sit still” I reply. Slowly, I stand up, taking care not to shake Lucy and wake her up. As I make my over Maurice shuffles back on the chair, arms outstretched. A little stiff from the cold, I shuffle over and slowly place her down in his burly arms. Almost instinctively he curls them back to hold her against his chest. Tight, but so as not to crush her. You could call it a protective embrace. He rocks her a little like the way he’s seen me do it. I chuckle. As I watch the two of them it feels like a toddler big brother meeting his baby sister for the first time.

Wholesome. Incredibly so. I should take a picture for Nigel. I’m sure there’s space somewhere on his desk for another photo, and I know this is one he’d greatly appreciate.

I scrabble around my pocket for my phone, drinking in the warm aura.

Intoxicating.

Hazy.

Dreamlike.

“Would you like to play?” The sweet voice echoes from an unseen speaker. 

I barely made it out of that room, away from that psycho doctor. This place gives me the fucking creeps. All those dark hallways and weird buzzing machines. I swear to fuck I saw another person in one of those side rooms, but they had no skin!

I don’t want to remember that. It’s why I ducked into this one, so I could vomit out my shock. That’s when I was besotted by the sound of a little girl. She keeps referencing the delipidated dollhouse in the room’s centre. She wants me to play with it. What, did daddy dearest leave his microphone unattended in the presence of a lonely daughter?

Her voice is so gentle, I’d be tempted to humour her. However, when I look at the naked plastic dolls beside their clothes I remember the skinless horror in the other room and finally let out the vomit.

“Oh dear, we need the clean up that mess. Mortis!”

The desperate squeals of metal hinges snapping draws my attention. I spin around on my heels, finding myself squirming in the shadow of a towering hulk of man.

“Could you hold onto our guest until someone cleans this mess please, Mortis?” she gleefully asks.

The big man reacts immediately. He stretches those tree trunk arms closer and closer to my neck…

I bolt. A boost of adrenaline propels my legs straight through his legs and back out the door I came from. As I turn one way, an image flashes up of the fleshy man. Instinct pushes me down the opposite direction of the corridor. Behind me the floor shakes, thumping with earthquake level footsteps. The damned beast is after me!

I don’t know where I’m going. The further I go the darker the hallway seems to get. Come on, I’ve had enough of this horror movie shit. Still, I’m better of running blind than into the beast.

Or perhaps I was never supposed to win.

My feet trip over nothing. A ledge that leads to nowhere. Lost, I feel lost!

Hurling down a pitch-black shaft. Just hurling, hurling who god knows how long. Over the rapid thudding of my heartbeat there is a rusted whirr of engines. Something scraping its way up the shaft towards me. For about five seconds, I feel the push of rough metal against my body before-

SQUISH.

“Mortis, the elevator needs cleaning as well!”

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Characters created by Josh Troke