Chapter 6
When Carl returned to consciousness there was a ringing in his ears and the smell of human dung in his nostrils.
He stirred idly and stretched himself. He was conscious of a tremendous necessity for getting up, but at the same time it was so nice just to lie there, just to lie there and rest. To close his eyes and instantly be back in the woods with Paula, and the two of them were lying on the soft forest floor and making passionate tender love to each other.
Something touched Carl's cheek, and in his semiconscious state he knew that it was Paula's hand. He reached out and stroked it, basking in the delicious feel of the twisted fingers, the warty skin, the smell of dead animals and....
Suddenly Carl was wide awake and bolt upright. He saw the hand that was nestled in his own, saw what it looked like and screamed. He flung the hand away and then got up and ran. He could never get far enough away from that awful hand, that appendage that was human and yet not human, and so horrifying to him because of this very half-humanness.
Carl stumbled over something, and then he was rolling in a thick heap of human filth. He screamed and sobbed and shuddered, and then he was trying to get to his feet again.
It was dark in this place, wherever "this place" was, but even so Carl had the undeniably strong sensation that he was being surrounded, that dozens of someones or somethings were slowly coming towards him from all directions, slithering and crawling and rolling across the surface that his feet rested on. Carl remembered what that hand he had seen had looked like, and he shuddered when he realized the kind of creatures it would take to have a hand like that.
The things were coming closer to him, and now and then soft moaning voices, plaintive little protests cut through the stench-thickened air and reached Carl's ears. Bright pinpoints of light began to appear in the darkness before him, glowing coronas with dark at their centres, and suddenly Carl knew that these myriad rings of light were EYES. Dozens of eyes, all looking at him in the darkness. Green eyes and yellow eyes and red ones, and even a few that looked positively orange. Eyes wide open and eyes half shut. Pairs of eyes, single eyes by themselves, and once Carl was sure he saw three eyes in a row and less than an inch apart quite near. Unable and unwilling to move he merely sat there and blinked, and the eyes blinked obscenely right back at him.
Something reached out and touched Carl in the blackness, something moist and slimy, and in sudden terror and panic he reeled away. He fell over backwards, and then a score of other hands were grasping at him, and in indescribable fright the boy fell in upon his own body, shutting his eyes and drawing his arms and legs tightly against his torso in the hope that this would in some way ward off the demons.
"Who are you?" said a voice. It was a slurred voice, a voice that sounded as though it came from a throat that had never been the possessor of a whole palate. But it was a human voice nonetheless, and all the more shocking because it called out to Carl in such a place as this.
"Who wants to know?" Carl demanded. "If you want to talk to me come out and show yourself. Where are you?"
"We are here, we are here," breathed a thousand voices at once, and then a thousand hands were reaching out from the gloom to touch Carl's naked body. Hands with four fingers and three fingers and sometimes even no fingers, and once a hand that had so many fingers they seemed to brush against Carl's face like fur.
"Wh-where am I?" he quavered, trying desperately not to show the rising panic in his voice. "What am I doing here and where am I?"
"You're in the M enagerie., . .the Menagerie ... nagerie ... " The voices lisped and grunted and croaked out their dry refrain. "The Menagerie ... nagerie ... agerie...."
Carl felt as though he were going to be violently ill. He remembered Veena, and that thought made him realize that he had to get out of here, he had to find Paula and then the two of them would escape.
"You are one of us now," crooned a voice, and it seemed to Carl's fevered imagination that the sounds were uttered by a mouth that did not have a head, a mouth that protruded from a pair of monstrous shoulders and that opened and closed, opened and closed. "Soon Frog and Hernandez will come with their bright shiny knives, and then you will be one of us. You will be Veena's slave, as we are!"
"Why does she put you here?" the boy demanded. It was very difficult to speak to voices that belonged to bodies he could not see, but he realized that if these bodies looked the way he THOUGHT they looked, it would be even harder for him to talk to them. "Why does Veena put you here, what do you do and what do you eat?"
"We are Veena's slaves," hissed a voice from twelve feet above him, and the others echoed: "slaves ... slaves...."
"We do nothing but wait, nothing but wait for Frog and Hernandez to come with their knives. And in between whiles we have sex. And we eat. We feast upon ... human flesh."
Carl knew then that he was going to be sick. He tried to move away from these monstrosities, but it Was like wading through a cesspool of human filth. One of the grasping hands reached out and touched the boy's genitals, and for one awful moment Carl was sure he would die then and there. But he brushed the hand away and started to crawl.
There was no room to stand and no light to see by and no way of telling which direction led out of this place and which farther into its iniquities and filth. But Carl crawled, for want of anything better to do, and for every half-human homunculus that he brushed from his path, a half a dozen more fell into place behind him.
"They will come with the knives," said a voice, said a voice. "You will soon be like us, you will soon be like us, when they come with the knives."
Carl was getting desperate. "What is the way out of here?" he demanded of the hissing things that drifted around him.
"There is no way out ... no way out ... way out ... out. There only are ways further in ... further in. There is no way out ... no way out ... no way out."
Carl was sure that he was going insane. He shouldered a half a dozen twisted figures out of his path and kept on crawling. He kept on going, even though he was sure by now that there was no way out of here at all.
But there HAD to be a way out. If he'd gotten in, he would be able to get out.
Probing, tendril-like hands closed in around his cock and balls, pressed tightly against the smooth round hemispheres of his ass-cheeks and began to spread them apart. The boy squealed in terror and lashed out with both fists at once, and he felt the hard knuckles come into contact with something that was flesh and yet was not flesh. He swung again and again, until at last the gibbering tongues and glittering eyes were a safe distance away. But he knew that he could only hold them off for so long....
"Tell me how to get out of here!" he demanded. Something struck him, and Carl reached out and snatched it with both hands, snatched it and twisted. The thing felt like a head and a neck, and he had the unpleasant sensation that the head had fallen off of the body and was now CRAWLING AWAY into the darkness. Carl felt a wave of sickness climb halfway up his throat, but fought it down gamely.
"Tell me how to get out of here!" he repeated, and the voices answered: "Bun yips!"
"I want to know the way out."
"We are bunyips."
"You're insane!"
"We arc bunyips ... bunyips ... bunyips! Yes, and you're a bunyip too!" And then the eyes were coming closer, leaping and bouncing up and down in the darkness like balloons on a string, and the boy screamed and fell backwards into the darkness. A thousand eyes saw him, and a thousand hands touched him, and a thousand tongues licked him ... "CARL!"
Something was grabbing him, something that didn't feel the same way that these other things did. Carl opened his mouth and screamed to shut out the nightmare. He knew that he was going insane, unless he had gone insane already.
"This way, Carl!"
More hands were grabbing him, more hands were pulling him, and a thousand tiny voices squealed out in protest: "You cannot! He is ours! He is ours, he is ours ... " And then Carl was being pulled along bodily by several hands that felt reasonably human, and he knew that whatever was happening to him now he had no control over it.
"Thank God I found you, Carl!"
With a dazed moan the boy opened his eyes. He was sitting in the middle of a circular chamber, and kneeling in front of him was Paula, a look of tender compassion on her beautiful face.
And behind her were Cyclops, and Tish and Estrogen.
"You bastards!" Carl howled, and hurled himself at the three men that he loathed. But Paula was holding him back. "NO, Carl!" she was saying. "They're on OUR side! They helped you escape from the Menagerie. And now they'll help us both escape from Veena!"
Carl sat down again and blinked dumbly. "Is this true?" was all he could think of to say.
Tish nodded slowly. "Listen to her. She made us realize that we're not interested in Veena. We're going back to the normal world, where we can be free to make love to girls and women as we please." He looked hungrily at Paula as he spoke, and Carl could feel the anger rising in his body again, but Paula held him back with a restraining gesture.
"All right," the boy breathed, reaching up with one trembling hand to brush a drop of saliva back into his mouth. "So you helped me escape. But escape from what? A minute ago I was in a dark crowded room full of God-knew-what. How did I get here so quickly, and where was I a minute ago?"
"You were in the Menagerie," Paula repeated.
"I heard that. And what's the Menagerie?"
A firm hand was rested on Carl's shoulder, and the boy looked up into the single eye of the man called Cyclops. There was a look of infinite sadness on the man's hardened face. "Carl," he whispered thickly. "I want you to promise me that as long as you live you will never ask us WHAT was in the Menagerie, or how you got there. I want you to promise."
Carl was about to protest this, but he saw the expression on Cyclops's face, and somehow he understood. "I promise," vowed Carl, and even though his mind was bursting with questions he allowed them to go unanswered.
Tish, who had just sat down on the floor, now leaped to his feet again and ground his hands together determinedly. "Right, then!" he exclaimed. "And now it's time for us to be leaving."
"And now it's time for ye t' be dyin', " croaked a harsh, guttural voice. The four men and the girl turned to look into the battered face of Frog, who was limping towards them in a lurching, obscene gait. It seemed as though his four limbs all took turns in supporting his body as he struggled along.
Paula was aghast. "I thought you were crippled," she hissed. "I thought you had your legs broken."
"Aye, perhaps they were," Frog muttered, and the words were a dusty rattle in his throat. "But ye see I'm still movin', I'm still hirplin' along. An' there's not a single one o' you who'll be leavin' this room alive."
"That's what you think," vowed Cyclops, and as he stepped forward Paula caught the flash of a knife blade in the man's right hand. "I've' got a knife here, Frog, and I plan to use it."
"I see you've got a knife," Frog countered thickly. "An' I've seen it afore. You've USED it on me afore."
"That's right," Cyclops agreed, and even in the dimness Paula could see his fingers tighten about the blade until his knuckles gleamed white. "That's right, Frog. You ASKED me to use it on you."
"Well, you'll not be usin' it now!" And in the flash of an instant Frog had hurled his battered frame into the air and was streaking through space towards the single eye socket of Cyclops. The one-eyed man saw the inhuman projectile and threw up both hands to ward it away. But a single splay-toed foot found its way through the barrier, and there was an alarming CRACK! as the foot pushed Cyclops's head backwards and farther backwards on the slender support of his neck. The fist that held the knife turned into an open hand, and then the knife was skittering across the cobblestones in a shower of sparks.
Cyclops fell backwards in a heap on the floor of the chamber. His head lay at a very odd angle to his body, an angle that made Paula feel she was going to be sick....
With a shout Tish made a dive towards the knife, the glinting weapon that Cyclops had let fall from his hand. But Frog was shooting towards it too, and a pair of powerful splay-toed feet pushed Tish violently out of the way as a set of gnarled fingers closed around the knife.
"I think I'll be keepin' this now," the beast-man muttered. "And you'll be a-comin' with me to Veena, or you'll be a-goin' nowhere at all." He brandished the burnished blade in the direction of the prostrate Tish. "Get up!" Then the knife was pointing towards Estrogen. "And you too, ye flamin' scobberlotcher! Traitors! That's what ye are: traitors to the Countess of Ravenspur, the Mistress of us all!"
"You're a damned fool, Frog," Paula heard Tish saying. "Why obey Veena just because she wants you to? You're stronger than she is, you're smarter than she is and faster than she is. You do all her work for her; without you she'd be helpless. Why do you let her dominate you like that?"
"Aye, she'd be helpless," nodded Frog, and for a moment it seemed to Paula that there was a strange moistness in the creature's eyes. "And perhaps that is why I be servin' her."
"But you need her more than she needs you, Frog." It was Estrogen speaking now, and he was sidling towards the crouching figure as he spoke. "Because she's the only person who ever treated you like a human being. The only one who didn't treat you like a FREAK!"
Frog's beslimed knuckles were ashen around the handle of the knife. "You wullna be repeatin' that," he hissed.
"You're a freak, Frog!" Estrogen shouted. "You've got a body like an animal and a cock like a battering ram! Your children were freaks, and the woman you loved was a freak! Your parents abandoned you at birth because you were a FREAK!"
Frog was coming forward an inch at a time now. "I'm no more a freak than you be," he whispered. There was a curious catch to the voice.
"Bertie knows you're a freak," Estrogen shouted. "That's why you murdered Gwynplaine! And then you took Hernandez's knife, and Cyclops's knife, and cut up your own body. So that you'd be deformed! So that you'd be a FREAK!"
"You flamin' BASTARD!" Frog hurled himself at Estrogen, and the two of them grappled and rolled in the dust. One flailing limb struck a wall, and a glimmering torch that was suspended above fell, its red tongues of flame licking at the clothing and flesh of both figures.
Paula and Carl stared, mesmerized with morbid fascination, as the two smoke-enveloped figures continued their battle to the death. Only Tish had the presence of mind to move.
"We've got to get out of here!" he said, desperately shaking both the boy and the girl until they were brought back into the real world. "We've got to get the hell out!"
"Huh?" Carl was stammering. "B-but what about Estrogen? What about Cyclops? We can't just leave them here!"
The flames were spreading now, and Tish cast a nervous glance in their direction before he answered. "Forget about them both and think of yourselves!" he entreated. "Estrogen had nothing to live for, and Cyclops was Veena's bunyip. Right now he might rise up against her, but sooner or later he'd succumb once again to her dominating ways. The bunyips always do."
"What the hell is a bunyip?" Carl demanded, putting into words the question that had been gnawing at Paula's brain for hours.
"There's no time, no time!" shouted Tish, herding the two teenage lovers towards the door. By now the body of Cyclops had joined the other two in the flames. "We've got to get out of here before Veena discovers us!"
Ahead of them was a door, a huge oaken affair with leather hinges. An iron ring hung from the centre of the door, and now Tish leaned forward and tugged at this ring to pull the door open. The door creaked open wearily and Paula and the others could see into the dimly-lit corridor beyond.
Standing there was Bertie.
"You will come," he commanded, and even as his voice spoke his mouth did not move, it merely continued its jackal grin upon his pumpkin-headed visage. "You will come to Mistress Veena, who will mete out swift sexual punishment for your rash disobedience." The hands reached out towards Paula with fingers that were like ice.
There was a howl of anger, and then Tish was attacking the ghoulish form. Suddenly Bertie's limbs snapped out of their paralysis and began a series of spasmodic, angular movements, as he struggled to overpower the babbling Tish. And there was no doubt in the minds of either Carl or Paula as to which of the two would emerge the victor. It would not be Tish....
"Let's get out of here, darling!" Paula begged, tugging at the arm of her naked companion.
"Not yet!" In a trice Carl was at the opposite wall and snatching a glowering torch from its bracket. He whirled the gleaming firebrand once, twice, three times, and then brought it down with, a crash on the top of Bertie's head.
Instantly the man's body was a mass of writhing flames, and the infernal heat was overpowering the body of Tish, who squealed and cried out like a dying animal. A strong odor of burnt flesh assailed Paula's nostrils....
"NOW we go!" shouted Carl, flinging the torch back into the chamber and taking his beloved by the hand. Then the two naked people were racing down the corridor and towards ultimate freedom, freedom from the Countess of Ravenspur and her demented minions....
"Which way is out of here?" Paula demanded, hot tears of fear stinging in her eyes as she ran.
"This way!" Carl rejoined. "It's the only way there is!" And the corridor they were running through was indeed the only way out. Until they came to a turn or a branching there was no choice to make regarding which way to run. There was only one corridor....
Ahead of them was a door, a door like the first with an iron ring and leather hinges, but a door that opened outward instead of inward. Carl pushed his full weight against the door now, and roughly shouldered it open until he and Paula could step into the room beyond.
They were in a torchlit chamber, and the floor of the place was in flames. In one corner lay the fire-blackened body of Cyclops, while elsewhere Tish lay dying and Estrogen appeared to be already dead. There was no sign of Bertie, and it was hard to believe that the throbbing mass of protoplasm against the wall had once been known as Frog....
Paula screamed. "It's the same ROOM!" she shouted. "We went the wrong WAY!"
On the other side of the chamber was a door, a door with an iron ring and leather hinges, and now the naked girl and boy were running towards it and opening it. Paula was ready to scream in case when the door was opened they saw Bertie standing there.
Ahead of them was a stone corridor, and now they were both racing down it towards the freedom that lay beyond.
At the other end of the hallway was an oaken door, a door with leather hinges and an iron ring dangling from its centre, and now the boy and the girl were pushing this door open and stepping into the room beyond.
They were in a torchlit chamber, and the floor of the place was in flames. In one corner lay the fire-blackened body of Cyclops, while elsewhere Tish lay dying and Estrogen appeared to be....
Paula screamed louder than she ever had before, louder even then when she had received the anal assault at the hands of Veena and her lash. "There's no way out!" the girl whimpered. "We just run out of the room and run back into it, over and over! There's no way out at all!"
"There's GOT to be a way out!" Carl vowed, pulling the long-haired girl across the room and towards the oaken door that lay beyond. "I'll bet that this door is it!" He opened it, and both lovers breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that what lay beyond was not the same familiar corridor but another room. They stepped into it eagerly.
They were in a torchlit chamber, and the floor of the place was in flames. In one corner lay the fire-blackened body of....
"I can't STAND it!" the blonde girl moaned. "I'M GOING CRAZY! LET ME OUT OF HERE! SHOW ME THE WAY TO ESCAPE!"
"There IS no escape," said a voice ever so softly. A woman's voice.
Carl and Paula were standing in the middle of a vast expanse of sand. The sky above and the sand below were identical in color, were both the same flat tone of everlasting greyness.
Standing before them was Veena, and she was the only patch of color in this colorless world. Her voluptuous body glistened black and crimson in the dimness. Held high aloft in one black-gloved hand was her spear, and her flail was in the other. The leather bats' wings on the back of the woman's garment flapped in the wind as though they were a part of her body, and perhaps they were....
"There IS no escape," Veena repeated, and there was no attempt to mask the obscene cackle of triumph in her voice. "You have been chosen as the sex-slaves of Veena, and the sex-slaves of Veena you must remain. You shall be forced to spend the remainder of Eternity performing degrading sexual acts for my pleasure, and the more pain that you receive at my hands the more I will enjoy it. I promise you both that there shall never be any escape from my dominion.
"There is no way out of Ravenspur...."