Darkness Girl: Trickster God

Chapter Ten: Puppet Show

The multi-storey building across the street had been gutted for demolition. It had been a copying company once, then a loans office, then, as the economy turned, it was partitioned into separate offices before finally being abandoned. Now, the doors and windows had been stripped away so all that remained was the mournful brick skeleton. Someone had tried to block off the entrance with tape. Torn pieces of it hung from the sides of the gaping doorway. 

Regan sat at a sticky plastic table in the takeaway across the street, watching and waiting for nightfall. Kessler's note had told her to come; it hadn't specified a time.

'Can I get you anything else?' asked the man behind the counter. 

He looked pointedly at the untouched cup of coffee sitting on the table. Not a wisp of steam rose from it. 

'No,' said Regan, and turned back to the window. 

There was a dull fizzle as an unfortunate fly strayed into the bug zapper over the man's head. He sniffed disapprovingly and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. 

There was no one else in the shop. The extractor fans above the deep fryer filled the room with a constant whirring noise, but failed to remove the thick, clinging smell of stale frying oil from the air. 

As the streetlights outside flickered to life, the building remained resolutely dark. Regan waited until the twilight faded and rose from her chair. She crossed the street and made her way into the building. There was evidence of human activity even in a condemned building; there were soiled sheets in one corner, where one of the city's homeless had slept, and scorch marks on the floor from the teenagers who sought out these places to hold parties. Regan knew how to avoid those people when she encountered them, but tonight the building was silent. 

She climbed the concrete fire stairs, passing floor after deserted floor. At the top was a chipped red-painted ladder that led to the roof. She clambered up it into the night. 

There was a light breeze blowing. Boxy ventilation ducts emerged from the concrete roof in a sporadic pattern that formed regular shapes in the darkness. Regan crouched in the shadow of one and listened. For a moment, the only sounds were the breeze and the occasional sound of a car passing far below. She was about to move when she heard something -- a laboured breath that was almost a sob. She froze and waited. The struggling breath came again. Regan slowly walked around the duct until she could see the bare expanse of the roof.

In the middle was a woman sitting rigidly in a chair. 

As the woman saw Regan, her eyes widened. Regan could hear smothered screams through the heavy tape around her mouth. Someone had put a white wig on her head, apparently as a joke. It was sitting slightly askew. 

Regan touched the hilt of her sword and listened. The woman continued to make muffled noises. 

'Shut up!' Regan snapped. 

The woman went silent. 

Regan listened again. The wind whistled slightly as it passed over the edge of the roof. If there was anyone watching, they weren't making a sound. Regan approached the captive woman cautiously. The tape had been heavily wound around the bottom half of her face. Regan sharply tore it away. 

The woman slumped forward and let out a series of wracking sobs that shook her body. Her mascara ran down her face and made black tracks through the foundation on her cheeks. She looked like a masterpiece that had been hit with a bucket of paint thinner. 

'Who the hell are you?' said Regan. 

'Please...' the woman said. 'Please...' 

'Listen! How did you get here?' 

'Please help me.' 

Regan hit the woman with a vicious backhand that cracked against her cheekbone and whipped her head to the side like a doll. She let out a choking noise. 

'Let's get one thing straight. I am not your friend. Pull your shit together. How did you get here?' 

'She caught me,' said the woman. Her voice quavered, but she held back the sobs. 'I couldn't move! Please, you have to help me!' 

'I don't think so. You can stay tied up until I know why you're here.' 

'I'm not tied up!' 

The woman lurched out of the chair like she was being pulled by invisible hands. There was a flash of metal. Regan felt a sharp pain stab through her thigh as the woman drove a long needle into her leg. She shoved the woman away. The woman stumbled backwards and fell over the chair. Regan reached down and winced as she pulled out the needle. It was a wicked, double-pointed shard of metal about eight inches long. She threw it aside. Warm blood trickled down the side of her leg. 

'Please,' the woman whimpered. 'Please help me. She's in my head! I can't stop her!' 

Regan watched as the woman was lifted back to her feet, her arms outstretched. Her muscles were tensing as if she was fighting against invisible bonds. Her arms dipped to her sides. When she lifted them again, there were two more needles in her hands. 

The woman ran forwards, her movements sudden and jerky. As Regan stepped aside, she turned on the spot impossibly quickly, almost catching Regan with a needle to the neck. 

'It's not me!' the woman screamed urgently. 'I can't control my body!' 

Regan tried to evade and stay beyond the range of the needles. Stinging pain was coursing through her leg. She could feel the drop in her speed and agility.

'Listen,' she snapped, as she dodged another slash. 'This is important. What happened when you lost control?' 

'I don't know! I felt my fingers go numb, then my arm. It feels like there's a worm in my brain!' 

'Did anyone touch you?' 

'I don't know.' 

Regan drew her sword. The woman's eyes widened. 

'I told you, it's not me! Please don't kill me!' 

The woman raced forward again. Her movements were erratic and unpredictable. Regan focused on keeping her footing and forced herself to ignore the pain. Two steps away, the woman jumped. She came spinning through the air with vicious speed. The needles flashed. 

Regan stepped in to close the distance and felt the jolt through her arm as her sword found its target. There was a wet tearing sound. In one cut, her blade sliced through the flesh and bone of woman's wrists, severing her hands and a good portion of her forearms. 

Drops of blood hit the concrete as the screaming began.