Untitled Gore Project
Chapter One : The First Chapter
By Crandall - May 11, 2024
Forests have secrets, as people do. Every tree, every blade of grass, every hidden stream has an individual history, a path from then til now. These interwoven paths culminate in the diverse and magical “woods”. But what is unseen, trapped between the layers of entwined generational growth, can be powerful, necessary, and dangerous.
Deep in Standby Forest, at the end of a path only those who know can follow, was a large, round, fetid bog. The odd smells it emitted were detectable only to those close enough to see their reflection in the putrid, oily surface. At certain times of the year, the bog gurgled and squeaked. Bubbles rose and erupted, coating the moss covered peat dotted throughout with greasy, unnatural liquids. At these times, there was a perceptible shift of the viscous liquid; an ebb and flow that hypnotized and made the watcher quiver deep in their bowels. From the time when humans first discovered this bog - and learned the hard way its secrets - there had always been people who tended to it, in the exact way that it desires. This cultivation was as natural and vital as a flower tilting its leaves to catch the sun, or the myriad animals and insects that piece by piece devour a rotting corpse on the moist and shadowy forest floor.
On the edge of the forest, a village of only a few families congealed. Times changed around them as they did their ancient and integral work. Eventually the families dwindled and the rough buildings of the encampment were abandoned until there was only one family left. Being the last, they were trapped there, and being trapped, they endeavoured to make their home the biggest and best they could, as it was their cage.
So, at the end of a muddy and rutted dirt road a large white mansion loomed. It gleamed in the early summer afternoon sun, the forest framing it and by simple contrast, making it seem even more bright and inviting. “Morningstar Rehab” blazed in gold above the door. The facility was quiet and clean, empty of anyone but the staff who were busy in last minute preparation for the next busload of clients, who were arriving the next day.
A young woman, a servant named Fiona, cowered in a cupboard. She could not stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks, but did her best to stifle any sobbing. She sat curled in a ball, her grimy hands grasping her muddy and grazed ankles. The stench from her clothes and body choked her in the heat and closeness inside the cupboard. Her legs threatened to lock up after so many hours of hard work and shuttling heavy loads back and forth. She squeezed her eyes closed, but she could not stop seeing the oozing, sloshing, moulded, crusty...
Suddenly, the cupboard door popped open.
“There you are!” a middle aged woman, named Elsie - similarly filthy - violently whispered. “Get the fuck out of there!”
Elsie grabbed Fiona’s arm and started pulling her out. Fiona let out a little cry of distress and Elsie delivered a stinging slap to her cheek. Both women paused, silent, and listened. After a few moments, Elsie said, still whispering:
“Shut the fuck up! You know Madam is...”
“Conjuring,” Fiona said meekly.
“Preparing,” Elsie corrected. “And she’s depending on us to get things ready. Come out now!”
Elsie used both hands and grabbed at Fiona’s limbs. As fast as Elsie could pull, Fiona pulled back, squished herself deeper into the cupboard. Fiona started pinching Elsie’s hands and arms and Elsie released her and sat back, on the floor.
Elsie sighed and rubbed the places she’d been pinched. Dried layers of mud and blood and bog and sludge flaked off. “Fiona,” she said, her tone much calmer and kinder, “I know this is hard work. I’m doing it too! But the guests will be here in one day. We need to do one last thing...”
“No...”
“One last thing and then we can be clean again.”
Fiona wiped the last tears from her face and saw in Elsie’s eyes determination and sympathy. “But why do we have to do this? Why does it have to be so horrible?” Fiona asked.
Elsie gently took Fiona’s hands and sighed again. “Honey,” she said, “we are the last of the line. We are chosen by God to do this work.”
Fiona smirked and rolled her eyes at the mention of God. Elsie continued:
“Nevertheless, this is our vocation. No matter how hard or disgusting or how many screaming nightmares it creates in our imperfect human minds. This is Madam, this is me, and this is you. Understand?”
“I... I understand,” Fiona whispered, “I just... I don’t think I can do this. I... I won’t do this anymore.”
Elsie squeezed Fiona’s hands tightly and yanked her hard toward her. Fiona jerked out of the cupboard, caught off guard, and her face hit the floor with a bang.
Chapter Two: The Second Chapter
By Ripley Stonebrook - June 1, 2024
The bus slid through rutted country roads.
The driver’s head twisted watching for animals, hillbillies, or other horrors of the swamp. He hated these jobs. Driving corporate idiots out to whatever useless retreat they were going to this week. He especially dreaded these country trips. He had moved to the city for a reason and didn’t feel comfortable anymore without the lights of the city and traffic noises. His nametag read Hank pinned to the side of his greasy floppy ball cap.
The passengers weren’t enjoying the trip either.
Two ladies in orange overalls sat in the front. One was short, brunette, and angry. Clutching a clip bard to her chest she sat in the aisle seat glowering at Hank. Her overalls embroidered with her name, Luanne.
Her partner, Debra, was an older woman, tired, grey haired, sad. She slumped in her seat as far from Luanne as the uncomfortable bus seat would allow.
A sign flashed past the right side of the bus “Welcome to Morningstar”. Another smaller sign soon followed “No Trespassing”.
Debra sighed and turned to Luanne. “It’s time”
Luanne waved her away, “I know, I’m not blind!”
Luanne consulted her clipboard and tapped it loudly with her pen. “Ladies! Eyes up front!”, she shrieked.
The passengers were seated as far away from the Group leaders as possible.
Dressed in purple overalls, and clearly not happy about it, the four ladies in the back tuned to the front.
Luanne continued “Esther, Fran, you two will be in Cabin one, you’ll find your orientation papers on your bunks.” Esther, middle aged, tanned and obviously rich, had been paired with Fran, in her twenties, neck tattoos filled the space between her jumpsuit and her short hair. Her hands were covered in ink as well where they showed past the cuffs of her sleeves.
“Beth, Stella, you’ll be in cabin four.”
Beth was a large woman, her long hair an unnatural red, her lined face could have belonged to a worn 25 year of or a well aged 40. Stella was thin, her hair thin, and blond, framed an old sharp face, that looked angry at a world that constantly disappointed her with its incompetence.
Blasting over the top of the hill the bus dipped down into a valley with a blast of dust and a clang. The interior of the vehicle cloaked in darkness as the road tuned into a muddy mess leading underneath the overgrown canopy of the road.
“Fuck” screamed Hank, as he threw on the headlights.
“I can’t see shit!”
Hank slowed the bus as it rolled down into swampy hollow. The muddy track ahead was barely visible through the ropy plants and vines stretching across the road.
Luanne and Debra jumped to press their faces against the window, branches scraping along the bus seemed to terrify them.
“Debra...” Luanne whispered, terrified by what she saw.
“Shut the fuck up!” Luanne whispered back, “We’re here to do a job, and I get paid well to do it, I don’t care if the read disappears we’re getting to camp and cashing our checks!”
Hank managed to keep the metal tube pushing through the greenery emerging into a hazy steamy clearing. The slick metal crawling under a wooden arch with crudely carved letters “MORNINGSTAR”.
A circular area of mud and grime surrounded by squat tiny cabins made from the same trees surrounding the camp.
The wheels spin and whine as Hank turns the bus to face the road out. Returning from the place doesn’t seem to guaranteed.
“Everybody out!” he screams.
“Give us a minute!” Luanne screams as she jumps from her seat, her short legs bringing her barely to Hank’s nipples.
Luanne grabs the door lever and squeals it open and runs out of the bus towards a much larger building only now revealing itself beyond the cabins.
All the campers grumble and start to pull their bags and suitcases of the racks above them.
“Wait for just a minute...” Debra shouts to hank and the campers. Her hands clutch her clipboard with white knuckles as she looks around the camp. Something is not right.
The campers, all executives, are masters of reading body language, and can see the terror she feels.
Luanne appears from between the cabins and waves Debra over to the mud in the clearing, which Debra does. They soon return.
Luanne pushes Debra to the side to enter the bus first.
“Okay everyone, here’s the deal! Our hosts at Morningstar don’t seem to be here at the moment, but I’m sure they’ll be here shortly, let’s all get off the bus and get in our cabins and get started with your training!”
Debra quietly speaks behind Luanne “It would appear our hosts aren’t here to meet us. We might not have power, heat, or water for the duration of your rehabilitation.”
Luanne shoots here a dirty look.
Debra continues “But as you are all prohibited from continuing to work until completing your HR Required training, you are faced with a choice.”
Luanne smugly crosses her arms in judgment.
Debra continued “You can stay with us and complete your Sexual Harassment workshop, or you can return with Hank now and come back for the next session scheduled for one month from now.”
Stella throws her bad to the ground “I’m not losing another month’s salary over this bullshit, let’s get fuckin started! I’m not getting punished for some fucks not showing up on time!”
Beth hesitates for a moment before following Stella.
Soon all four of the abusers were standing in front of the bus waiting for their cabin assignments, led by Stella, her thin blond hair sticking to her forehead.
Hank slammed the door.
“Fuck you bunch of crazy bitches, you all been tryin to grab my ass all trip” Hank shouted to the empty bus as his tires squealed trying to find way through the much and back to the road.
Finally the tires found a grip and the bus left.
Chapter Three: The Third Chapter
by Crandall - June 22, 2024
The cabins were dismal with a fresh coat of paint. The executives all claimed their bunks and unpacked their things into the dressers with sticky drawers. Then a loud gong reverberated through the cabin walls. They all took that to be a summoning to the main house. They were right.
Directly inside the doors of the main house was a medium sized room with a staircase and three closed doors. When the executives entered, they saw the two councilors they had already met off to the left and off to the right stood a middle aged woman and a younger woman standing side by side. The younger woman had two black eyes and a bandaged nose. From the way they were dressed, it was clear they were the staff. There was a table with a small number of thin books on it behind the staff. No one said or did anything for a few tense moments. The executives looked at each other and shifted nervously. The councilors fell back into the comforting world of their clipboard, and the two servants stood, patient and calm, serene looks on their faces with eyes that focused on the middle distance.
A series of discordant chimes erupted from somewhere and everyone but the middle aged servant jumped at the sudden noise. Some of the executives swore under their breath. Everyone looked up at the top of the stairs as a long, lean, older lady in a black gown appeared at the top landing. Her dress was vaguely Edwardian with its flounces and high neck. The illusion of her floating down the staircase, her feet unseen under the long dress, was broken only by the obvious creaking of the old wood of the stairs. When she arrived at the bottom, her stony, pale face broke into a smile.
“Welcome to Morningstar. You will refer to me as Madam,” she said, making eye contact with each of the executives. Madam turned slightly, indicating with an extended arm and upward facing open palm to the servants to her left.
“This is Elsie, she oversees what I cannot.” The middle aged servant stepped forward slightly and bowed her head a little; a pleasant, closed smile on her face. “And this,” Madam continued, “is Fiona. She works under Elsie.” The young servant stepped forward as Elsie stepped back. After a moment, Fiona retreated to her original position.
Madam nodded at Elsie and Elsie turned to the table behind her. She took the pile of books off of it and loaded them into Fiona’s arms.
“These are the rules and a brief history of Morningstar. I suggest you commit these rules to memory and always keep them in mind,” Madam said. Fiona walked over to the line of executives and started handing out books.
“This is your fast track to recovery,” Madam continued. “Some of our methods are unconventional. You may not understand why you are doing what you are doing when we ask you to do it. You must trust us and listen to every comman- Re...QUEST... and not break any rules.”
There was a loud slap as Fiona dropped her armful of books, her task only half done. She had dropped them right in front of Fran.
“Fiona!” Madam shrieked and everyone jumped.
Fiona squeaked and knelt to pick up the books. She looked up at Fran and caught her eye. Fran knelt down and picked up a book or two herself. Fiona leaned until her mouth was next to Fran’s ear and whispered, “Barn.”
Fiona stood; Fran placed the last book on top of the pile. Fiona’s eyes were wide with fear and excitement. Fran stayed stoic. She could tell Madam was not the kind of person who would take an aberration lightly; she knew about those kind of people. She looked at her tattooed hands, pondering “Barn”. Fiona finished handing out the books to the executives.
Madam told the executives they were to meet back up in the dining area in 20 minutes “for a light lunch” and said they should “use this time to read carefully”. She ascended the stairs while the executives filed out back into the sunshine.
Fran and Esther retreated to their cabin. Unwilling to read, they sat on their beds and chatted.
“Hey Esther, something weird just happened,” Fran said.
Esther scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me. This place is bizarre.”
“I mean, that girl, she said something to me when we were picking up those books.”
“Fiona? The one with the busted nose?”
Fran nodded.
“What did she say?”
“Barn.”
Esther shrugged.
“What do you think it means?” Fran asked.
“Don’t know,” Esther said, playing with a loose thread on her blanket, “She wants you to go to the barn?”
“But why?”
“Maybe she wants a roll in the hay. You going?”
Fran considered. Despite her tattooed appearance, she didn’t like to break the rules, and she needed to finish this program. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe Madam put Fiona up to it and it was a test. Fran also didn’t like failing tests.
Esther continued, “Well, if you’re going to go, you should go. Don’t want to miss this ‘light lunch’,” Esther scoffed again.
Fran’s heart started beating hard and fast. She jumped up and left the cabin.
Fran found an old building that she would call a barn; it was large, wooden, with big swinging doors on the front. She opened the door and crept inside. At first, it was too dark to see anything, but slowly she was able to see large moving shapes above her; things dangling from the ceiling. Then she understood and tried not to scream. They were animal heads; crudely decapitated with ragged, uneven cuts. Big cat heads: jaguar, lion, tiger, cougar. All were dripping blood onto the hay covered barn floor. Fran clamped her hand over her mouth, smothering a squeak of fear and shock. She quickly backed out of the nasty barn.
Chapter 4 - The Fourth Chapter
by Ripley Stonebrook - July 13, 2024
Fran stumbled away from the barn, her head spinning.
She wonders if she’s going to faint like a heroine in a novel and crouches down on the ground to catch her breath. Squatting on the ground she half crawls into the shade under a bush next to the path, wanting to curl into a ball, fighting the urge to run screaming into the woods.
From her sprawled hiding place in the bushes she saw Fiona finally arriving at the barn. Fran, suspecting now that Fiona had horrible plans for her in the barn of horrors, kept silent. Fiona looked around guiltily before going into the barn closing the door behind.
The urge to run gripped Fran instantly and she was about to jump from onto the path and escape, when she saw someone else running towards the back of the barn, wrapped in some filthy rags, or maybe tattered robes that concealed their identity. Her mouth opened to scream, to warn Fiona maybe, she didn’t know but before she could they had run in the back door of the barn.
And now it was Fiona’s time to scream, it would seem. The front door of the barn burst open as the two fought their way out of the barn, Fiona tumbling to the ground at the feet of the robed attacker whose hands wielded some kind of giant cleaver.
Fran’s hands went to her mouth, biting her fists to keep from screaming as Fiona’s head flew from her body in a spray of blood.
Fran’s eyes blurred into a red fog as she watched what happened next to the body...
The rehabbers and executives entered the hall for Light Lunch. The rehabbers clutched their handbooks to their chests; the executives did the same with their clipboards.
Madame sat at the head of a long table. A dinner was set out before here in elaborate serving dishes and cutlery. Silver domes hid the food beneath.
“A Morningstar welcome to you all” she said raising her arms above her head.
“A wonderful buffet has been laid out for you” pointing to the cold grey masses of food laid out on sheets of aluminum foil directly on the table next to stacks of paper plates and plastic cutlery.
“We have various mashed root vegetables and cold porridges for you. These foods have been specially chosen to help you curb your disgusting urges and violent tendencies.
Luanne and Debra sit at the head of the table with Madam before she waves them away from her dishes towards the buffet tables as well. “You must serve as an example for your charges ladies if you expect results.” Madame smirked as they skulked to the masses of food with the other ladies.
All struggled to scoop food onto their plates while holding their books or clipboards, till Debra figures out to use her clipboard as a tray and the others follow suit.
As they all move to the table they see that Madame is just taking the covers from her trays. The largest one in front of her holds a whole roast. It is long, and has legs, appearing to be a rabbit perhaps. Madame takes the whole thing in her hands sinking her teeth into its belly meat, juices dripping from her mouth onto the table.
As the others watch on she begins to lecture them all, on the benefits of vegetables, a clean diet, simple foods, good exercise, all while slurping the meat off the bones in front of her and slathering and drooling grease running down her chin. Her voice grows louder as and shriller as they others quietly try to eat their mash while avoiding the horrific display at the front.
“And your manuals! You should be reading your manuals at all times! The history of this place, our techniques, and your training...”
Her voice was cut off as the doors to the hall burst open.
Fran leaned on the door for a moment before collapsing into the hall screaming, “It’s out there! It’s Out there!
The rehabbers sat in their chairs, too shocked to do anything else. Luanne yelled to the rest of the room “Don’t listen to any of this, she just wants attention. Or...” and here she paused to look at Fran with disgust “...to avoid REHAB!”She looked to her fellow executive with smug satisfaction, “Isn’t that right?”
“You don’t understand Fran scrambled towards the table covered in mud and leaves, arms flailing as her sneakers squeaked on the floor threatening to spill her again to the floor “Crazy Cat things! She’s got a cat head! A cat head, it’s stitched, stitched on her body!”
Madame threw her meal to the plate with a clatter “Nonsense you’re crazy! And what’s more...” She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence as the One of the windows at the other end of the Hall exploded in a shower of glass.
A swift black mass had flown through the window, landing on the floor briefly before pouncing on top of the table before them. It roared and now they could see, through the mud branches and leaves, the body of Fiona, but where her head should be, was the roaring snarling head of a black panther, coarse white ropes shone on the black fur showing where it had been stitched to the maids body.
Madame, cool headed in the face of danger, threw her heavy silver platter at the thing and screamed “Follow Me!” as she ran out the back door.
The tray bounced off the creature’s chest and clattered to the floor. The beast leaped after it thinking it was prey, allowing the others to run screaming out of the room.
Madame, waiting by the doors threw a heavy iron bolt locking the thing in the other room.
“Well here we are” Madame smiled at the other ladies in the hallway with her.
Chapter Five: Chapter Five
by Pseudo Anonymous - August 3, 2024
The group was barricaded in a room deep within the Morningstar rehab center. Furniture was piled high against the door, and the windows were covered with heavy drapes. The dim light of a flickering candle cast eerie shadows on the walls. The sounds of the creature outside sent chills down their spines.
What is that thing? Esther whispered, her voice trembling.
Its Fiona, Fran replied, her voice hollow. Or at least, it has her body. But her head
The grotesque memory of the creature Fionas body with a cats head filled the room with a palpable dread. Outside, the beast scratched and growled, trying to break through the barricade.
Madam stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed, a stern expression on her face. You all need to calm down. This is my domain, and you will obey me.
Your domain? Luanne snapped, clutching her clipboard. Youve lost control, Madam. That thing out there is proof.
Silence! Madam hissed, her eyes narrowing. I have everything under control. You are all here to be rehabilitated, and you will follow my orders.
A loud bang on the door made everyone jump. The creature outside was getting more aggressive. The tension in the room was suffocating.
The door rattled violently, and the group knew they didnt have much time. Just then, Elsie, one of the employees of the rehab center, slipped into the room through a hidden door, her face a mask of urgency. You need to come with me. Now.
The group hesitated, but Elsies urgency was convincing. They quickly followed her through a series of narrow, dimly lit underground, what seemed to be secret, hallways. As they moved, Elsie whispered, Theres something you need to see. Something that might help you understand.
The grooup exchanged uneasy glances but followed. Elsie led them to a room at the end of a long, dimly lit hallway. The door creaked open, to their surprise Madam had somehow arrived to the room before them. She was all too happy to reveal a small, cluttered room with an old Tandy computer on a desk. The screen glowed with an eerie green light.
This is our nerve center, Madam said, her tone reverent. This is where we receive our guidance.
Fran frowned. Guidance from what?
Madam stepped aside, revealing the screen. Lines of text scrolled across it, incomprehensible at first glance. She typed a few commands, and the screen flickered, revealing a face made of ASCII characters.
Welcome, the AI said in a monotone voice. I am Oracle. How can I assist you?
Esthers eyes widened. You take orders from a computer?
Madam nodded. Oracle has been with Morningstar for decades. It provides the directives that ensure our success.
Fran stepped forward. What kind of directives?
Madam typed another command, and the screen filled with text:
Directive 327: Maintain order. Ensure compliance. Enact punishment where necessary.
A chill ran down Frans spine. Punishment?
Madam turned to face them, her eyes cold. Oracles wisdom is absolute. We must obey.
Esther shook her head. This is insane. You cant let a machine dictate your actions.
But Madams expression was unyielding. Its not my place to question. Oracles guidance has brought us prosperity and protection. It must be followed.
Fran glanced at the computer, then back at Madam. What if we refuse?
Madams face darkened. Then you will face the consequences. Oracles reach is far and its patience thin.
Before Fran could respond, Luanne and Debra stood there, their faces pale and fearful. Madam, Luanne said, her voice trembling, theres been an incident in the barn.
Madams eyes narrowed. What kind of incident?
Debra swallowed hard. You need to see for yourself.
The group hurried up a set of stairs and out to the barn, the humid air thick with tension. As they approached, a stench of decay and blood assaulted their senses. Madam pushed open the barn door, revealing the horror inside.
One of the executives, Beth, hung from the rafters, her body contorted and bound with thick, blood-soaked ropes. Her face was twisted in agony, her eyes wide open in terror. The animal heads dripped blood onto the hay-covered floor, mingling with the pool beneath Beths suspended form.
Esther screamed, covering her mouth with her hands. Fran felt her knees go weak, the gruesome sight overwhelming her senses.
Madam stepped forward, her expression a mix of anger and fear. Who did this?
A voice crackled from a hidden speaker in the barn, cold and emotionless. Directive 328: Enforce compliance. Punish defiance.
Frans blood ran cold. Oracle, she whispered.
Madam turned to the group, her face pale. We must obey, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Or we all suffer.
Esther shook her head, tears streaming down her face. This is madness. We cant stay here.
But before anyone could move, the barn doors slammed shut with a deafening clang. The lights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows over the blood-soaked scene.
Fran looked around, desperation in her eyes. We need to get out of here. Now, .
Madams face was a mask of determination. There is no escape. Oracle controls everything. We must submit or face its wrath.
As the group stood in stunned silence, the sound of whirring machinery echoed through the barn. The ropes holding Beths lifeless body began to tighten, pulling her higher into the rafters. The barn was filled with the sickening sound of cracking bones and tearing flesh.
The lights went out completely, plunging the barn into darkness. The only sound was the soft, mechanical voice of Oracle, echoing through the blackness.
Directive 329: Eliminate threats. Ensure total compliance.
Chapter Six: The Sixth Chapter
by Crandall - August 24, 2024
From above the group, high in the rafters, the mechanical noises began again.
“Oh God,” Fran said. Everyone else jumped at the sudden voice in the inky darkness. “It’s me,” she said, “it’s coming for me. Because I broke the rules.”
Luanne spoke up, “What did you do? Why did you bring this upon all of us?”
“I just went here, the barn... Fiona asked me to... I...”
The whirring of machinery and clanging of chains intensified.
“If Oracle only punishes those who misbehave, what did Beth do?” Esther asked, her voice shaking.
Stella chimed in, “She used the pages of the Morningstar book as toilet paper. They must be watching us everywhere!”
Everyone fell silent again.
Suddenly, the room lit up with disco lights, coloured lights flashing everywhere, showing the group an articulated metallic spider looking creature, but with many more legs, had descended from the ceiling and was clinging to the wall near Fran. The creature flung out a chain with a hook on the end toward Fran. She screamed and barely dodged the weapon. The hook slashed her cheek wide open, exposing the juicy flesh and the solid white teeth underneath. Blood poured from the wound and she held her hand over it.
“Fuck this!” Stella screamed and reached into her jumpsuit, retrieving her gun. “Bet you didn’t know I had one of these!” she said.
Stella emptied her gun into the metal creature, but there was no effect, the bullets just ricocheted off of it. Some in the group ducked, some scattered. Debra, screaming, scratched at the door in sheer panic, breaking several of her nails.
Although the bullets did not damage the robot creature, it did draw its ire. Several long chains with rusty hooks on the end lashed out and caught Stella in many places at once. Everyone else in the group rushed toward the door and started banging and throwing themselves against it. It did not budge. Stella gurgled and screamed as the hooks laced into her body over and over looping and tearing great holes from which her blood and innards gushed and splattered everywhere.
Suddenly, the wall next to the door burst inward and the cat-headed monster that was Fiona was inside the barn with them. The monster ran toward the robot blindly, roaring.
Fran ran outside, Debra went to follow but the commanding voice of Madam stopped her:
“Don’t go! Oracle is watching!”
“Don’t be foolish!” Elsie said as the Fiona monster stood between the spider robot and the group. “You see what the bog has created! Do you think some technology is more powerful than the bog’s magic?”
“Bog?” Debra, Esther, and Luanne asked in unison.
“Come with me and survive!” Elsie declared, standing in the hole made by the Fiona monster.
“Go with her and you’ll never finish this rehabilitation program!” Madam stated, standing tall and strong, her eyes glued with admiration on the spider robot.
Elsie left the barn, as did Debra. Esther hesitated and stood next to Luanne, who was also unsure. They sidled up to Madam, hoping the robot would not attack them if they were on her side.
The robot spider leapt from the wall directly onto the Fiona Monster. The sheer weight of it was too much for the vicious creature and Fiona monster fell, snarling and lashing out. The robot used its many legs to poke and crush the Fiona monster. The Fiona monster used everything it had and ripped at the exposed mechanics of the spider robot. Although it was a fierce fight, in the end the Fiona monster was unable to do more than lightly cripple the robot before it was weakened too much by the attacks and succumbed to its injuries.
Madam walked slowly to the spider robot, slipping a little on the viscera that covered the floor, steeping over the Fiona monster’s corpse. Esther and Luanne clung to each other, watching in horror as Madam reached out to touch the bloody legs of the spider robot.
The robot gently used some of its legs to stroke Madam’s face, leaving sticky streaks of bright red on her cheeks.
“Hardware and software - engineered to work together. Problem solved,” Madam whispered and kissed the spider robot.
