CHAPTER FOUR: CAKE AT MIDNIGHT
The pegboard was loaded with a variety of manual saws and hammers. Scalpels, nails, syringes, chisels, and butcher knives were arranged in a neat line on the table below. A large, stuffed duffel bag wiggled in the center of the room.
One year. That's how long she had been in Roanapur as of tonight. She nudged the duffel bag with her foot, then she kicked it. The bag jerked and turned over.
"Now, now, little one, have more finesse than that," Adolph chided as he gripped her arm and pulled her away. "Let me explain my gift to you."
A gift. Adolph had pulled her away from the main cleaning quarters and dragged her to one of the torture chambers. He had said something about celebrating a "cleaning anniversary." Ever since the cannibalistic fiasco, Sawyer was wary.
"You've progressed effortlessly in your time here, little one. All of my assignments, all of my tests... Every instruction, every method, every technique I've shown you has been executed with clinical precision. In the single year you have resided here, you've surpassed those who have worked under me for a decade in both skill and experience. You truly are gifted, little one. Which is why I present you with this." He walked over to the duffel bag and unzipped it.
Unsurprisingly, there was a man inside. He burst out of the bag, bound and gagged, wearing nothing more than his underwear. The man appeared to be in his early thirties, a tattoo of a tiger and dragon on both of his arms. A Triad? Or was it wannabe? The goggles of her surgical attire hid any emotion, but Adolph could feel an almost quizzical aura coming from her. What was so special about this?
"As you know, the Hostel not only provides services for people who wish to experience a torture vacation, but we work for the city and syndicates within. Normally, when a gang brings in a body for us to dispose of, and provided the body is still alive, we put it to use in these chambers before they head to the cleaning halls. However, every once in a while, we get special orders..." Adolph smirked and stroked his goatee. The bound man whimpered through the gag.
"Mr. Chang, you know of him, do you not?" Sawyer nodded. Of course she had heard of the Triad boss, even managed to catch a glimpse of the man on occasion on her more mundane outings in the city. Anyone who had spent even so much as a month in Roanapur had to have at least heard of Mr. Chang. The man was an icon in his own right. Even Sawyer, who normally regarded others as mere objects, had respect for him.
"Oftentimes, he will send a body to us, and it will need to be made example of. Even with a reputation as well established as Mr. Chang's, there are still many fools who try to cross him. Not a good idea," Adolph said with a wag of his finger, "These jobs require an expert's touch, not some businessman on vacation who can't even locate an appendix. I have always taken these jobs, and I have yet to receive a poor review, but...
"Perhaps it's time I share these duties." Adolph grinned as he stepped behind Sawyer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Should you accept this job, of course." Sawyer shrugged. Whatever.
"I will take that as a 'yes'," Adolph grinned. "I want to make this clear, little one. This is not the usual disposal job you are used to. Not used to it now, anyway." He strode leisurely to the bound man again, circling him, but Adolph's eyes were focused on Sawyer.
"This man, he's an idiot. Part of smaller Triad that's just moved in and trying to step on the 14K's toes. Mr. Chang, being a very reasonable man, won't waste time and bullets if he does not deem it necessary. The cleaners are the first resort. The body is dropped off to us, and we give a warning. This will send the message to the receiving party to take their business elsewhere and steer clear of our client. In order to send the proper warning, we must make an example of things like this," Adolph pointed to the gangster on the floor, "However, in order to achieve the desired effect, you must understand the mindset of the people the warning is being sent to. In this case, we're sending this to a lesser Triad."
Never breaking eye contact with Sawyer, Adolph stepped on the chest of doomed gangster, digging his heel into the diaphragm.
"The Chinese, such a fascinating culture with a rich history. I recall a historical record, one of my favorite stories," Adolph lifted his right hand in a grand gesture. "Long, long ago, there was a man who went by the title of King Zhao. He was the last ruler of the Shang dynasty. A good king, a great leader, his kingdom was prosperous under his rule... until he met a woman.
"Her name was Da Ji. King Zhao took her as a concubine, and he was spellbound by her beauty. This infatuation quickly turned into obsession. He dedicated himself to spending every waking moment with her. Da Ji liked animals, so he built her a personal zoo with many rare species. She liked singing and dancing, so he demanded that music accompanied with bawdy dances be performed for her taste. There was a point when he organized an event that gathered thousands to partake in a game of cat and mouse in the nude so Da Ji would be amused. When a maid of honor expressed her disgust at this vile display that Da Ji delighted, King Zhou had the maiden slain and ground her father to a pulp. He proceeded to feed the flesh to his vassals.
"But among all this, the one thing Da Ji loved above all things was the pain and torment of others. She would have people dismembered on a whim, chopping off an old man's feet and making him walk on ice, ripping out a heart to examine the chambers, cutting the belly of a pregnant woman to see what happened within, all so she could analyze the situation and indulge herself in their suffering. Da Ji even invented a method of torture. There was a bronze cylinder heated with fire and coal, much like a furnace, and it would be covered in oil. Then a man would attempt to walk on the burning device, struggling to balance on the boiling oil. If he maintained his position on the cylinder, he would be baked to a crisp. If he couldn't find his balance, he slipped into the fire below. He would dance on the coals in agony until he died. Da Ji would laugh, and King Zhao laughed with her.
"King Zhou's obsession with pleasing Da Ji made him neglect his kingly duties, and a rival tribe grew stronger. Despite the tribe's deep seated hatred of King Zhou, Boyi Kao, the first born son of the tribe's leader, Ji Chang, had an affair with Da Ji. King Zhou discovered this and had Kao butchered, and forced Ji Chang to devour a soup of Kao's flesh and blood before he was placed in jail, only to be released two years later due to vigorous bribery. Ji Fa, the youngest son of Ji Chang, carried out revenge against the tyrant Zhao twelve years later.
"The people's own disgust and revulsion of King Zhao and Da Ji allowed Ji Fa to defeat the tyrant with ease. King Zhao knew this was the end of his dynasty, but he couldn't bear to see his empire fall into ruin. He committed suicide and set himself on fire. A fitting end for a man destined to rot in hell.
"And Da Ji? The woman who started it all? Sentenced to death, but her legacy does not end there.
"Da Ji had proven to be such a notorious figure, an epic fantasy novel written in the Ming dynasty portrayed her as the major antagonist. Feng Shen Yanyi, I believe it was. In this literary piece, Da Ji is depicted as the incarnation of a powerful fox spirit. The goddess Nu Wa herself sent Da Ji to trigger the end of the Shang dynasty. Can you believe it? The goddess credited with creating mankind condemning an empire. Da Ji took the form of a maiden by possession and carried out her task, but after the Shang dynasty fell, Nu Wa went back on the promise of immortality she had made to Da Ji. Nu Wa deemed that Da Ji was excessive with her goal, and the goddess had no choice but to put the fox spirit to death. Pity."
"What is... the point of... this story?" Sawyer asked, tired of Adolph's rambling. She didn't see what these tales had to do with making an example of the gangster beneath Adolph's feet.
"I'm getting to it, little one." Adolph's smirk never wavered. "Da Ji is one, if not the most vile of the women recorded in China's history. Her depravity was so grand, so epic, so legendary, she was viewed as a beast with no other purpose in life than to cause corruption, chaos, and destruction. She may not have literally been a wicked spirit, but she will always be remembered as such, and therein lies my point."
Adolph stepped off of the Triad, and the gangster gasped and coughed. Adolph leaned in towards Sawyer, his nose almost touching her own.
"Da Ji sounds to be something concocted from naught more than a nightmare, but she was very real. She is a figure in the pages of China's past, and it is there she will always reside. Stories like those of Da Ji are part of China's history. As such, they are events that are present in the back of the heads of the people from the culture of whence they originated." Adolph tapped the side of his head for emphasis.
"My point is, little one, with stories like that ingrained in their minds, you need to do something very impressive to intimidate a Triad." Adolph got out of Sawyer's face and straightened his posture, clearing his throat.
"Unlike previous assignments, I will not be instructing you here. This is something you must do for yourself. I am giving you this task to test your mettle. I am satisfied with your work so far, but you must be able to prove yourself to others without my guidance in order to advance further in this business. It is a risk letting you do so, as this is putting my own reputation on the line, but I am confident in your abilities. And I don't deem it likely you would botch a job just to spite me. It's not your style." Adolph smiled and pinched Sawyer's cheek beneath her mask.
"If it is an added incentive, you will be paid handsomely if you do well here. You could use that money for luxuries; more books, new clothes... video games." Adolph could not hide the disdain in his voice. He would never understand the appeal of the last items mentioned.
Sawyer batted his hand away. Enough. A job was a job. She would do whatever was necessary.
Taking this as a cue to leave, Adolph moved towards the door.
"Remember, little one, this is your first impression for the major syndicates. Make it count!" With nothing more said, he shut the door behind him.
By this point, the feeble gangster was huddled in a corner, shivering, tears streaming down his face. Sawyer reached for the ripcord of her chainsaw, but stopped mid-way and looked at the tools on the table and peg board. Make it count. This was to be a message, not just disposal.
With an empty smile behind the white mask, Sawyer grabbed a butcher knife.
- 0 - 0 - 0 -
"Wonder what ever happened to Ji," muttered a man in Cantonese, throwing down a tile. He and a group of other males were gathered around the table. Other members lounged in the cramped area. The place reeked of cheap incense and cigarettes.
"Heard he went to a whore house not too far from Lachada Street, got kidnapped by a freelancer hired by Chang," commented another man at his side.
"That knife bitch in the red qipao?" asked the third male.
"Probably," answered the first.
"Kidnapped my ass," said the fourth, "Ji probably gave her too much trouble. He always had a one track mind." The man pointed to his crotch.
"But I heard she's allied with the 14K," confirmed the third man. "Got a message not too long ago. If we know what's good for us, we'll stay off of their turf... or else." He didn't sound intimidated.
"How frightening," droned the second with a smirk.
There were loud bangs against the door and what sounded like a large box being dropped. As a truck sped away, they opened the door and saw a large wooden crate with blood leaking out of the bottom.
"Shit," muttered the first male, "I guess we all know what happened to Ji."
"Nothing we haven't seen before. Lee Kwan pulled a trick like this back in Hong Kong."
"Let's pop it open and make sure it's Ji in there. No use worrying over a corpse if it belongs to a pig," said the third man with a crowbar in hand. He placed it underneath the lid and applied pressure. "Really, a box? Amateur at best. They probably just shot him and stuffed him in..."
The man dropped the crowbar to cover his mouth. Vomit leaked out of the gaps between his fingers. The surrounding members recoiled and some lost control of their bladders.
It was Ji, or whatever was left of him. His lips had been skinned off, showing the yellow teeth. There were large cuts reaching from the corners of his mouth to his ears, resembling an eerie smile. The skin around his eyes was removed, revealing the tissue beneath, but the eyes themselves were left intact, staring ahead, the milky white color standing out against the thin, red muscle. His arms and legs were missing, and the torso was slashed open, most of the organs missing, ribs forced apart and sticking out further than what nature intended. The only remaining organs, the intestines, were strewn around his form with obscene purpose, wrapping the mutilated corpse like tinsel around a Christmas tree.
Taped to inner side of the wooden lid was a small note. "HAVE A NICE DAY." There was a smiley face underneath the text.
They got the message.
After placing the lid back on with trembling hands, the men looked at the box in horror.
What kind of sick beast would do something like that to another human being?
- 0 - 0 - 0 -
"Do you want a cup a' tea, Fred-Fred?" chirped a young girl in a pink prairie dress with blonde hair tied in braids. Fred-Fred didn't give an answer. Her head was resting in her folded arms on the table, disinterested. A stuffed teddy bear missing one of its eyes sat on Fred-Fred's right, while a plastic doll with a dress similar to what the blonde girl was wearing sat on her left. They were sitting at a small table in the attic, bones covering every inch of the floor, the poorly preserved corpse of their great-grandmother sitting in a rocking chair in the corner.
"Fred-Fred! I said, 'Do you want a cup a' tea?'" asked the blonde girl with a huff, holding the plastic tea pot. Fred-Fred lifted her head and stuck out her tongue.
"You're mean!"
Fred-Fred blew a raspberry at her cousin Jenny in response. Fred-Fred hated tea parties. It wasn't anything like dinnertime. So boring.
"Ya want some tea, don't ya, Teddy?" Jenny asked the stuffed animal, ignoring her cousin and pouring an imaginary cup. "You, too, Ms. Hardesty!" She poured a cup for the doll. Fred-Fred smacked Ms. Hardesty's cup off of the table into a pile of femurs.
"Get it back," Jenny commanded. Fred-Fred placed her head back on top of her arms. Jenny's nose crinkled. "I'm older 'an you. Ya hafta listen to me!" Jenny was met with another raspberry.
"You're retarded, just like yer dad," Jenny giggled derisively, grabbing Fred-Fred's teacup and giving it to the doll. "Bet ya don't know how to talk."
Fred-Fred glared. She wasn't retarded. She knew how to talk, and thanks to the nightly visits to her mother, she knew the entire alphabet too. It's just that she only spoke around her parents. Cousin Jenny wasn't worth the words.
Fred-Fred grabbed Ms. Hardesty by the hair. Jenny gasped.
"Fred-Fred, you put her down, right now!"
Fred-Fred gripped the doll's body with her other hand and Jenny began to panic.
"No, no, no, no, no! DON'T DO IT! SHE'S MINE!"
With a small smile, Fred-Fred pulled off Ms. Hardesty's head with pop. There was a body without a head and a girl beginning to cry. Now the tea party felt just like dinner.
"NOOO!" Jenny wailed. Fred-Fred rolled Ms. Hardesty's head back and forth across the table. With a sniffle, Jenny spat at her.
"Y-you're just jealous a' me," Jenny taunted, "My daddy isn't retarded and my mommy isn't in the shed, like a... like a... like a bitch-hog. That's what yer mom is, a bitch-hog. That's why she's locked in a pen."
Fred-Fred's smile disappeared. She threw the doll head aside and pounced.
Uncle Charlie and Uncle Drayton snapped their heads to the ceiling as they heard a high-pitched screech.
"Sounds like Jenny," Drayton muttered, stirring the pot full of his special chili.
"Must 'afta do with Fred-Fred. Goddamnit, that girl..."
Sheriff Hoyt, a.k.a. Uncle Charlie, left the kitchen and went into the living room. He proceeded to storm up the stairs and stomp across the second floor of the house before going up more steps that led to Fred-Fred's room, the attic. He slammed the door open and saw Fred-Fred on top of Jenny, her small, pale fists coming down, one blow after the other as Jenny screamed.
"Damn it, Fred-Fred!" The fake sheriff ripped her off of Jenny and the blonde girl dashed out of the room crying. The man hit Fred-Fred across the face with the back of his hand.
"The fuck is wrong with you, girl? You don't beat the shit outta family!"
She looked to the side, avoiding eye contact with her uncle. It wasn't out of shame, it wasn't out of regret. It was anger, resentment. Her lip had cracked open from the hit and blood dripped down her chin.
With an exasperated sigh, Uncle Charlie set her down on the floor and left the room. Jenny probably did something to piss her off, but he knew the problem ran deeper than that. He needed to do something about this.
"Jenny's cryin' like hell down 'ere! The fuck happened? Don't wipe yer nose on me, ya lil' bitch!" Gunny Tom shouted from the living room. Uncle Charlie came down the steps and shook his head.
"Gotta do somethin' 'bout Fred-Fred," Uncle Charlie drawled, "The girl's cravin' blood. Can see it in her eyes. Gettin' worse every day. Even that dumbass Nubbins sees it when she's helpin' him with his art projects." Uncle Charlie pushed a mobile of human bones hanging from the ceiling out of his way.
"We gonna kill 'er?" Gunny Tom cackled. He yowled in pain as he felt something run over his foot.
"We're not... doin' that..." Mama Sawyer rolled into the room, confined to a wheel chair and being pushed by Uncle Tech. The speaker Tech had installed in the stoma in her throat allowed her to talk. "Her birthday... is gettin' close..."
"She's only gonna be five," Drayton said, poking his head out from the kitchen. "You sure she's ready for that?"
"Blood initiation doesn't start 'til at least ten years," Charlie pointed out, "But... Fred-Fred's been gettin' antsy lately. Has a downright creepy look when she's at dinner. Doesn't just wanna watch. Almost as bad as her daddy. I say we let her get her first kill this year. Maybe drawin' blood'll calm her down some. Tech, get a gizmo ready. She ain't strong enough to handle a saw all by herself yet."
- 0 - 0 - 0 -
Adolph whistled a tune as he sorted through the papers on his desk. Rolf was utterly dumbfounded.
"WHAT?"
"Quiet, Rudolf, it's a secret."
"Are you aware she has only been in Roanapur for... n-not even two years?"
"One year and eight months as of next week," Adolph specified, "All this time has passed and I'm still impressed by the work that marked her one year assignment. Work from Chang has been more frequent. He's quite impressed with the impact 'the Cleaner' has had on his enemies and clientèle. Word is getting out around the city as well. I need some way to celebrate this."
"Schnapps is a way to celebrate. Don't you think this is excessive? You're talking about giving her a business. I don't even think she's eighteen."
"Age is but a number. By the time the date of the event comes to light, she will have the experience, skill and knowledge necessary to carry it out. I placed budgeting and financial management into her work sheets. She's not fond of it, but she does it well."
"It would be one thing if you were talking about expanding the business, but this is a completely separate matter," Rolf placed his hand on his forehead.
"Rolf, there are very good reasons for this. Wonderful as it is having her work here, I feel she needs to move on. The chick can't stay in the nest forever. That abandoned abattoir is perfect for her."
"You're going to let go of your best cleaner in a few months because of that?" Rolf asked skeptically.
"No, not entirely,"Adolph admitted, "I'm getting old, Rolf. My hands hurt. The arthritis is getting worse. The medication is wasted money. All those years of using power tools as implements have taken their toll. I cannot hold a scalpel without there being an ache in my joints. How ironic is it, brother? Picking up a torture device brings me pain.
"It is also getting increasingly difficult to balance the business that comes in through the murder vacations and the business that comes from the city and criminal factions. The sole purpose of the Hostel is the vacations. The gangs and street cleaning are just extra change. It would be better for my health if the duties of the former were passed onto another individual."
"We're going to lose money if you do that, Adolph."
"It will not be an enormous loss, and we will still be connected. The Hostel and the plant will stand as separate businesses catering to different costumers, but the plant will still have the support of the Hostel. And as I mentioned before, it is difficult enough as is to balance the business of the vacations and syndicates. It will be much easier to keep track of the finances and paperwork if we stick to one side."
"You keep me around to manage the financial aspects. Why would this ever be an issue? I'm here," said Rolf.
"Yes, you are, Rolf. You are here... now."
Rolf swallowed and quickly excused himself from the room, immediately dropping the conversation. He didn't like his brother's tone.
As Rolf shut the door, the air in room became unnaturally cold as Adolph's lips stretched in a slow, maniacal grin. Rolf... He had a very special plan in mind for Rolf.
Adolph laughed uncontrollably at the thought. It would be Sawyer's final gift.
- 0 - 0 - 0 -
The Sawyer family was gathered around the table. Fred-Fred's leather-faced father was sitting beside her. The grotesque centerpiece of a preserved human head and torso on the table stared at Fred-Fred as she sat in a chair made of bones. The family sang to her off-key as they presented her birthday cake. Fred-Fred tugged at the string that tied the hat to her head. It was uncomfortable.
There was a compound miter saw beside her, the arm longer than standard models due to Uncle Tech's modification. An unfortunate young man who had wandered onto the homestead was tied down on the table, screaming. He had a bright red ribbon tied around his neck.
Fred-Fred blew out the candles and the song came to a halt. She adjusted the arm on the miter saw so the blade was lined up with the man's neck. She had seen it done so many times by her family during dinner in the past, she knew it all by heart.
"The saw... is... family," Mama Sawyer said, giving Uncle Tech the hint to start the blade.
The Sawyers stayed quiet, observing closely, eagerly. Gripping the metallic arm, Fred-Fred slowly inched the whirring circular saw towards the man's neck. When the spinning blade was barely a centimeter away from biting into flesh, Fred-Fred halted it from moving further.
The man looked up at her pleadingly, crying, begging for her to stop.
Blood splattered across her face as she pushed the blade down and took off his head.
The Sawyer family howled and cheered, some members moving in a wild dance while Fred-Fred's father clapped and laughed giddily.
The only family member who did not show any overt joy was little Fred-Fred. While her family celebrated, she stayed seated, silent, looking at the decapitated head on the table. The corners of her lips moved up, but her eyes were stoic, unfeeling. There was only one other person on the Sawyer ranch who shared such an emotion, or lack thereof.
Back in the shed, Fred-Fred's mother sighed as she heard the celebration. She knew what had just occurred. The first drop of blood had been shed.
It was midnight for Frederica.
A/N: The accuracy on the cruelty of Da Ji and King Zhou is debated since the historical records were written by their enemies. Though you have to admit, it makes for one heck of a story.
I feel bad for making Sawyer kill at such a young age, but it was necessary for symbolic and relative reasons. It was also a gift for Amigodude. I did promise him cake.