Chapter 10: Disco Diva, Dead on the Dance Floor
The breathing soft and shallow. Her nose like a river delta, the air like water, flowing in, and out, mixing to form a nosy brine. The police station silent. The horse brayed, sound like waves from a dropped stone, spreading out into a lake.
"We do not yet see anything," Bella Black stated, her brow in furrows.
"There is usually present at least some reserve force, though I dispatched of the good cop from the routine. His name, James K. Vogt, is now dead, lying facedown on the floor which is beneath his supple form." The horse carried them slowly through the empty hallways. The empty hallways were like the small intestines of some giant beast, and the police men's Marilyn Manson posters stood on the wall. Some of them fell on the floor as the sticky stuff wore off. They never sell very good sticky stuff for hanging posters up; they are always falling or ripping.
Many of the walls were white with paint, and many more were not. Many did not have posters on them. Every now and then, an indentation in a wall led to a fancy water fountain which shot its contents directly into your face, no matter where you stood. Technology has advanced in at least the 31 years since the year 2011, Bella Black observed wisely.
After many hours wandering about inside of this labyrinth, the woman Bella Black intoned, "What is this place?" She did not know, for the deceived James K. Vogt had given here a drugged cup of water, and the last thing remembered before the interrogative location was that police car's have extremely well designed logos, with a sort of weave pattern like the popular hair style of the day, and then a V cut right into it. Maybe a bit of an X as well, for she could barely discern what she knew.
"Many years ago, in perhaps 2020, they built many large subterranian complex to house the most offensive criminals. All manner of scum lay here, where they attempted to reform them: multiple murderers, repeat rapers, criminals with white collars, and aggressive atheists." Sophia Loren's face swept the scene, alert for changes in movement. Her eyes were looking out of her face and swiveled on an axle. "Here they wasted their ways, and slowly the system gave up on their resignation. Fitting, then, that they were housed close to hell, which is traditionally thought to be inside of the earth, and this complex is inside of the earth. It completes its sufficiency alone using geothermal energy and very hot lamps that make the plants grow. They even have a pig farm."
"How to escape?" Bella questioned.
"I am not sure. After my sex symbolism faded and my skin became like loose pillow sheets, I sold myself to here for a day job. I have not seen the skylights yet for over a baker's dozen of years." Sophia Loren saddened, her face melting into a frown like a hard boiled egg shelled before its prime, with the albumen liquidated. Many years were added to her face. It was just like in the Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, when that king guy for Rohan had his old guy makeup fall off, but instead it was in reverse.
"Thank you for sharing you," Bella sympathized, her hand stretching out of her arm socket and she patted Sophia Loren's on her back. But all the patting could not change her, for she was permanently like a prune.
Many hours later, they came across a door which offshoot from the main hallway, its frame standing in the wall. They removed their horse and felt the door up, looking for a handle but there was none. The door was likened to an elevator, so Bella Black made a guess. "UP. DOWN." she said, but there were no noises within its Dracula deeps. It was not activated by speech like normal elevators.
"Over here!" shouted Sophia Loren from the position of her face on Bella's left. Bella inclined her head. Small round objects were embedded into the wall, each with an error shape. A key hole gaped into the wall below. "I remember these, for they are what we used to use for elevators!"
Bella Black did not understand, but Sophia Loren place one finger solely upon the upwards pointing arrow, and applied pressure until it slid marginally into the wall. Her finger flexed underneath the flaccid skin. The liver spots on her hand were a momentary distraction for Bella, but then the door sprang open and went ding.
Time to go, thought Bella Black, but to where and from where? Why does life present us with obstacles, when often it does not present us with what lies beyond them? Is it really worth it, to enter this device? To keep calm and carry on, when the world is anything but friendly, and when all that is and all that ever was has been taken from me? Do I believe in the power of the human soul?
They entered the door and left the horse outside, where it saddened. "An elevator is no place for ponies," Sophia said, "move along." The horse galloped onwards as the door slid shut of its own accord. Sophia pushed another embedded circle which lay on the interior elevator, and they could feel the barometric pressure differential and the resistance to the movement of the elevator box pressed their inertia downwards.
It took several seconds, maybe more, before the door opened and they exited into what remained of an old Disco Saloon, like many others that were set up in the 2020s. A binary ball hung from a thread, its wires snapped. It had many reflective surfaces but unlike its cousin the disco ball the binary ball was also a speaker. Its two functions loaned the name binary for the audiovisual components thereof.
Lights emanated out of the ceiling lamps. The light seemed quavery, like water on a windy day, and yet it was only a feeling. It was ominous. The ceiling and the floor and walls were situated in the peculiar way that one often finds ceilings, floors, and walls. Only several doors were placed within the walls to lead out onto other rooms or hallways.
Holding up the ceiling were several stuccoed pillars, square in shape. The chairs were haphazardly placed around tables which surrounded the periphery of the disco stage. Very few were pushed in, and even those that were not occupied by dehydrated, mummified corpses were not properly stacked in the chair containers which lined the back of the room. A skeletal disk jockey lay splayed on his disk container. The same noise emanated the room of a song playing the same ten seconds over and over. It must be dubstep, Bella concluded to herself.
"What is," said Bella, "this place?"
"I am not relatively certain," whispered Sophia Loren's face.
The two forms began to huddle in the center of the room below the binary ball, their fright palpitating.
"Sophia," whispered Bella urgently, "I need to ask you something. I need to know, before it's too late. Do you believe in the power of the human soul?"
The lights flickered, then fell. All was dark. Silence and breathing dominated the scene. And then, somewhere in the distance, an inhuman noise, halfway between a scream and a howl.
"Was that you?" Sophia Loren asked.
To be continued...
AN: My roommate sexiled me this week so I've had more time to write but still I want to know how I'm doing, so please review. Jesus bless you this holiday season.