Part 4 - The Lord
The factory on the edges of the village is the main reason for the disappearances in the village. The villagers have always known this, and they fear the lord who dwells within. Karl Heisenberg's wit and intelligence is as sharp as the shards of metal he commands, and equally able to stab through a person.
The man's mind is always at work, always thinking, pondering. It's something that always impresses the Duke whenever he does his dealings.
He comes to a halt outside the factory, he is still building up to actually going inside. No doubt it has cameras of some kind around the perimeter, and it doesn't take long for Heisenberg to swagger out.
"You're early," he remarks.
"I believe I've arrived at the same time I usually do," the Duke answers.
"No, you're early. I checked."
The Duke doesn't argue the point further. Along with Heisenberg's quick intelligence, his temper is of similar speed.
"I have some requests, I hear you're the one to go to for them," Heisenberg says, already rifling through the pockets of jacket. "Damn it, where the fuck did I…" He pauses. "Ah, there it is." He finds the errant item and unfolds it.
The Duke holds out his hand, and Heisenberg passes him the note. It is a list of items, surgical tools, mechanical equipment, drills, anything even remotely related to metal. The Duke reads over it, then nods. "These shouldn't be a problem to find for you, Lord Heisenberg," he tells him.
"Good. The sooner the better, preferably," Heisenberg answers.
"Is there anything else I can source for you?"
Heisenberg nods. "Cogs, metal, gears. Anything you can get your hands on." He glances downward. "And let's face it, you do have some pretty big hands."
"Ah, but they are multi-talented, Lord Heisenberg. Useful for not just acquiring items."
Heisenberg chuckles. "No doubt."
Without another word, he turns and walks back into the factory. The doors open with a loud creak that echoes around the area.
The Duke returns to the factory a week later, his carriage jangling with all the metal he's come across and stowed away. He slows Baron to a halt, stopping outside the creaky doors of the factory.
His suspicions about the cameras are confirmed when Heisenberg's voice booms from the speakers on the poles outside.
"You'll have to give me a few minutes," he says, "Finishing up some work." Then it cuts off once more.
The Duke takes this time to gather the scrap metal, sheets of corrugated steel, and other pieces of scrap. He lays them out on his table, ready for inspection by the lord of the factory.
To the Duke, the area has always seemed that much colder than the rest of the village, perhaps because of the metal. He still has not been inside the factory, however he imagines it to be equally as cold, if not more so. Absently, he strokes Baron's nose, the horse scraping at the ground before shaking his head.
The doors creak, drawing the Duke's attention. Heisenberg saunters out, one hand in his pocket, and tips his hat to the Duke. "He have a name?" he asks.
"He does. Answers to Baron, if he's in a good mood," the Duke replies, quickly finding himself with a nudge to his shoulder from his horse.
"Doesn't look like he's in one now."
"He knows I'm talking about him."
"Don't they all. Like women that way." Heisenberg spots what he is after and picks through it. He lifts cogs, gears, the corrugated sheets, wire, despite its rust. He examines each piece, holding the shinier pieces up to the cold morning sun. The scrap metal is gathered into one huge pile on the ground, the corrugated sheets leaning next to it. The cogs and gears are piled on top before Heisenberg reaches into his pocket and hands the Duke his coin.
No further words are spoken, Heisenberg gathering everything together into one ball held together by his mind alone, and he turns, heading back to the factory to finish his work.
On his next visit, Heisenberg takes an interest in Baron, even going as far as to bring apples and carrots for the horse. This surprises the Duke, however it is not entirely unexpected. The lords all have their own particular quirks. Heisenberg's, it seemed, was horses.
"What does he prefer?" Heisenberg asks, reaching into his pockets. He pulls out a carrot from one pocket and an apple from an inside pocket.
"He's partial to apples, though any food is a welcome treat," the Duke tells him.
Heisenberg puts the carrot back, then approaches Baron. He holds out the apple, and the horse starts nibbling on the fruit. Heisenberg strokes the fur on Baron's neck, waits until the horse is finished before he wipes his hands on his coat. He gives Baron a last pet then rounds the carriage to where the rest of the items are set out.
"I have another list," he tells the Duke, while he piles the gears, scrap and everything else in between.
"Ah! A challenge!" the Duke answers with a smile. He holds out his hand and Heisenberg drops the paper. The Duke reads it over, then nods. "These should be fine for finding, Lord Heisenberg."
"Only thing the others were right about was your knack for smuggling items in. And without a finder's fee."
"I consider the thrill of the chase for said item more than enough to cover my finder's fee."
"Really. I'll need to think up something good then."
The Duke gives another smile. "I'm sure that shouldn't be hard at all for you, my lord."
A half smile appears on Heisenberg's face briefly. He turns back to Baron, handing the horse the carrot from his pocket, then hefts his items back into the factory.
The thrill of the chase takes the Duke longer to acquire Heisenberg's requests, though find them he does. He feels a certain amount of pride at having acquired them, something he did briefly wonder if this was a test from the lord. Thus far, Heisenberg has been civil, and the Duke has no reason to suspect Heisenberg's motives for this particular list of items.
He brings Baron to a halt outside the door, clambering off of the driver's seat at the front of the carriage.
"You'll need to make your way inside today," Heisenberg tells him, "Got my hands full."
The Duke goes to the back of the carriage, gathering items together, placing them into a cart ready to be pulled along. Between the usual requests of scrap metal, a large part of Heisenberg's order includes drills, a propeller from an aircraft and various generators. The generators are at the bottom, metal piled on top of it, the propeller placed precariously at the top. The right stone or pebble will bring this tower of metal down in seconds, and it takes the Duke longer than expected to bring everything inside.
"Come into the elevator, I'll bring you down."
The Duke does as he's told.
Once in the lift, the true horror of the factory can be seen all around him. People on harnesses, attached to a conveyor belt of sorts are transported to the lower levels of the factory. In the brief glimpses he manages, the Duke can see they are all dead, pieces of metal burrowed deep into their skin. Now he knows just why Heisenberg has asked him for every cog and every gear. Even the drills make sense when he sees one where the man's arm should be, spinning on a wheel on the floor below him.
The factory stinks too. The floor reflects rainbows from the oil and petrol spilt, the gate of the elevator greasy to the touch. Steel doors look welded shut, large elaborate locks on the front to keep anyone and everyone out. Tiles climb the walls, some broken, some missing entirely. Pipes roam the ground floors, steam hissing out of a few, while a large gulf of steam bellows out at the other end of the floor. The conveyor belts ferrying the poor souls attached to it, reach the length of the factory. The entire place is a nightmare come to life.
The elevator shudders to a halt, Heisenberg leaning on the pillar outside of it, hammer resting on his shoulders. "Fancy meeting you here," he says, with the hint of a grin.
The Duke gathers himself. Despite the horrifying sights he has witnessed on the way down, it does not do well to let the customer know of his outright revulsion of it all. That is not part of the service after all.
"Your items, as requested," the Duke tells him, waving to the cart.
"Well, well. Wonders will not cease." He goes to the cart, moving the propeller from the top, then rummages through the rest of it. He picks out some of the items, the generators in particular, nodding at them in satisfaction. "Yes, these will do."
"Ah, good. They looked to be the specific type you requested."
Heisenberg pulls out a cigar case and takes one out. "You smoke?"
"It is one of my unhealthier guilty pleasures." The Duke will not admit to his newfound appreciation of classic romance films, as well as books.
Heisenberg hands him the case. "Your finder's fee."
"I couldn't."
"I insist. I wasn't expecting that you'd find all of them."
The Duke takes the cigars from him and tucks them away.
Heisenberg walks into the elevator, gazing to the reams of bodies suspended on the conveyors. "Look at them. One day, soon, I'll use them to take out Miranda. They still need some adjustments, they're not quite ready yet."
"Miranda is the formidable foe."
Heisenberg snorts. "Don't I know it. The others are too busy crawling up her ass to notice." He turns back to face the Duke. "Stupid bitch did start me off with the means to create all this."
"The Cadou?"
Heisenberg nods. "The Cadou implanted into them, then metal attached from there. Makes them the perfect soldier. Doesn't matter if they fall either, I can make more."
The Duke feels his stomach take a sickening lurch in the wrong direction.
"One day, Duke. One day I'll be free of her, free of all of them. Just watch." Heisenberg picks up his hammer, reaches into his pocket and hands the Duke an apple. "For Baron. Tell him it's from me."
With that, Heisenberg leaves, taking the cart with him.
When the Hound Wolf squad make their way into the factory, the Duke knows there's only way this will end. Despite his utter revulsion of the place, and the way his stomach flip flops over itself whenever he sees the corpses, Soldats, Heisenberg told him they were called, the Duke will miss the lord. Heisenberg never fails to remember an apple for Baron, nor an extra case of cigars for any other scrap metal the Duke finds either around the village or on his expeditions for items.
Ethan Winters causes Heisenberg to mutate completely, just as Moreau did. He's more metal than man, a disfigured face somewhere at the top, in amongst all the metal welded to him. Even though he cheers Ethan on silently, there is a small pang of sadness.
The last time he sees Ethan, the man gives him both Heisenberg's hammer and the crystalised shape of him. The Duke places both him and the hammer on his shelf with his brethren. At the back of his mind, he thinks Heisenberg will chide him for this, that even in death he can't escape Lady Dimitrescu, nor Angie with her irritating voice as he often complained.
The lords are gone, Miranda soon will be too. The village, where he has spent the better part of half a century serving them, and retrieving their items, will now become but a memory. He is confident at least, that he made sure both the village and the lords received a first class customer service.
