Spawn of Man

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Authors: Terry Farricker
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from heavy, dark wood. Although time had ravaged the black paint there was no fire damage either on the door or anywhere in the chamber. This room must have been locked from the outside before the fire had taken hold of the institute. Robert sensed an oppressive texture to the atmosphere that might slowly crush him if he lingered too long. It did not feel like this force was intrinsic to the chamber but rather the chamber housed it, imprisoned it, and just for a fleeting moment, Robert felt something very old was present, something clamoring to be set free.
    As he alighted from the stairs and cautiously approached the first cell, he heard the noise again, the dull thump that pulsed through his body like a second heartbeat. Robert’s head collided with one of the lights that were slung from the low ceiling. The interiors of the cells were hidden from view, as there was no illumination in any of the six cubicles. But the fitting Robert had disturbed now swung back and forth, brightening the first cell on either side of the room with the sequence of a pendulum. Robert reeled as the grotesque contents of these cells were revealed to him. The stark light washed over the bones of two skeletons, one in each cell, bones bleached in the harsh glow from the bulb as it washed over them briefly, before plunging the cell back into darkness. In the lighted interludes Robert made out manacles secured to the anklebones of the skeletons, oversized and disproportionate now the corpses were stripped of flesh.
    He wished he had brought a torch now, if the lights failed he did not relish being alone in the dark with these specimens. Robert assumed they were inmates of the asylum from around the time of the 1922 fire and he concluded with a shiver of revulsion that they had probably died of thirst after around a week of delirium. Was their death made more pitiful by their nature, or could it be judged more merciful because of it? Their death agonies would manifest in the same forms of madness as their “normal” behavior and that made it all the more macabre.
    Robert noticed there were cables stretching from the cells, lying across the central passageway and converging to enter a small room at the end of the chamber. The door to that room was open and the trunks of cables ran through, to be tethered to what looked like a machine. Reaching up, Robert held the wire cage of the second light and shone it into the middle cell on the right, empty, the manacle open. Then the middle left cell, another skeleton in the dark interior, again chained to the far wall.
    Robert almost crept passed these middle cells, apprehension lightening his steps as if his footfalls would rouse the wretched bundles of bones and re-animate them, still thirsting and still demented. He stopped at the last cell on the right. The lamp here was off centre due to the intrusion of a supporting ceiling beam and it spilled a cone shaped spotlight into that cell. Robert noticed a small table just outside the cell against the far wall. There was a bowl for washing, a shaving kit and a small drawer built into the base. The drawer was open and glass debris was strewed around the feet of the table, reaching into the cell itself.
    Because the ceiling light here was positioned off centre, the last cell on the left was in total darkness. Robert suppressed a shudder as he imagined eye-less dead sockets watching him from the inky blackness of that cell. The configuration of the lights also meant that the last cell on the right was fully illuminated and Robert saw the now familiar shackle on the far wall of the cell, restraining the bony foot. However, this skeletal specimen was not connected to a body as the bone was truncated just above the restraint and the procedure looked uneven and brutal.
    As Robert peered harder into the cell, trying to decipher what this strange deviation indicated, his hand suddenly rested on something hard and nodular. He looked down and jolted, retracting his hand

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