Chapter Seven:
Time had long ceased to have any meaning for Zosia by the time she found her first clue - a hidden pressure point that enabled her to twist the Box down the middle. How long had she taken to find that, she idly wondered? It was dark outside now - that was her only clue. She could have checked the time, but the thought of stopping her puzzle solving was not an appealing one - especially now that she'd finally made some progress.
The movement must have triggered something within the Box, as now a tune was coming from it - a simple music box melody. Zosia smiled at her musical reward, and kept working.
Once the first step had been made, the others started to fall into place with growing regularity. A hidden button caused the Box to be twisted into a new shape - a turn of one of the etchings caused it to shift again. Zosia knew she was close to solving it now - she could almost feel it. Now, her movements were flowing together one after the other, the sequence becoming clearer and clearer to her, the end point coming ever closer and closer.
At some point - Zosia wasn't actually sure when - the sound of a huge bell tolling became apparent to her. The sound even made her look up from the Box for an instant - something she hadn't done for many hours now. There were no churches nearby, and even if there were, it was pitch black outside. No church would sound its bell in the middle of the night, surely?
Even that, however, was not enough to distract her for long, and she returned to her puzzle solving. Somehow she knew there were only a few steps remaining, and she smiled to herself as she worked through them, knowing that her task would soon be complete and that the Box would have been defeated.
In addition to the tolling bell, the light in her room was starting to flicker now, but Zosia scarcely noticed as she slid the final etching into place, and the top of the Box flicked open. She grinned as she mentally congratulated herself, but her delight was short-lived as the Box suddenly pulsed with light. She gasped, and instinctively dropped it, fearing that perhaps the inside of the Box was electrical in nature and able to shock her.
As the Box hit the floor, she peered at it cautiously. Blue light was pulsing around the Box, in the black spaces between the etchings. They were just lacquered surfaces, thought Zosia. How could they light up like that?
While she was trying to figure it out, the Box started moving by itself, its pieces rearranging themselves into a new shape. Her bedroom light flickered again. Zosia glanced around her in confusion, and caught sight of a glass of water beside her mattress. The water in the glass was gradually turning red, to the colour of blood. The tolling of the bell seemed to get louder and louder. Her bedroom light flickered again, then went out.
The room was not dark, however. The Box was still pulsing, and in addition to that, blue light was shining in through the blinds, and - impossibly - through the corners of the room, where the walls met each other. At every space where walls met, the blue light shone though the joins.
A cold wind started to blow from somewhere, and Zosia could not take it any more. "What's going on?" she screamed. "What's happening?" But there was no answer, just the tolling of the bell, ever louder and louder.
Just when it seemed that the bell could get no louder, that it had reached its peak, the wind reached a fever pitch of intensity, and the wall that Zosia faced simply blew away. As she gazed in shock, the bricks, the paint, the supports, all flew backwards away from her into a vast, shifting darkness that stretched as far as she could see. Leading towards that darkness, beyond the confines of her room was a familiar sight.
It was the passageways of the Labyrinth. They stretched out beyond the confines of her room, exactly the same as they had appeared in her dream, the same cold blue phosphorescence lighting their walls.
"No," Zosia whispered, clambering back against the wall of her bedroom. "No, this can't be happening."
The passageway wasn't empty. As Zosia watched, three figures strode into her room - she hesitated to call them people, as they were nothing like anyone she'd ever seen before. All three were clad in black leather robes that both covered and seemed to be stitched into their bodies.
The first was obese, the black leather stretched tight over his bulk. A slit in the front of his robe exposed a large vertical gash that was held open by hooks attached to the garment. His head was bald, with rivulets of fat collecting at his neck. He wore a pair of sunglasses that he slowly removed, exposing empty sockets sewed tightly shut with thick black thread.
The second was female, as far as Zosia could tell. She too was bald, and her neck housed a deep wound, allowing full vision into her throat. An elaborate arrangement of metal wires around her head and neck kept the wound open, every turn of her head pulling the flesh one way or the other, exposing the raw redness beneath.
The third offered no clue to its gender at all, so elaborate was its scarification. Its head was scarred beyond any trace of humanity. It seemed to have no eyes or ears. Tight metal wires wrapped around its head, holding open its most distinctive feature - its mouth, although somehow that term no longer seemed applicable. Instead, a large hole rested where the mouth once did, the wires hooked into the raw flesh around the edges, holding it open. In the middle of that bloody mess, a set of teeth remained, chattering - constantly, almost eagerly.
The three figures stopped once they had fully entered the bedroom. Zosia glanced over to the door, wondering if perhaps she could try to make a run for it, or call for help. Her body did not want to obey her, though. She was transfixed by fear, paralysed against the wall.
A final figure strode into the room - their leader, perhaps? The other figures certainly seemed to defer to him, standing back slightly as he strode towards Zosia, stopping just a few feet from her. This one was male - clad in similar black robes to the others, with several exposed panels in the front, showing flaps of flesh held open with hooks, sections stitched through the clothes, and other such body modifications. He was also bald, and his head was completely covered by thick scars in an elaborate grid. At every intersection of vertical and horizontal axes, a thick nail had been hammered through down to the bone. There were dozens of such nails hammered into his skull. His skin, like his three companions was an unearthly pallor, as if it had been dusted down with ash. A scent of vanilla filled the room, but it did little to disguise the smell of rotting flesh that followed the intruders.
The leader spoke, with a booming voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once, and fill the room. "The Box. You opened it. We came."
"What?" gasped Zosia. "I don't...I don't understand."
"Lemarchand's Box. You solved its puzzles, and now you will come with us."
"It's just a puzzle box! I didn't..."
"Oh no." This was the female, her voice a harsh whisper coming from both her mouth and the gaping wound in her neck. "It is an invocation. A means to break the surface of the real, and summon us, the Cenobites."
"Cenobites?"
"Artisans of the twin disciplines of pain and pleasure," said the Lead Cenobite. "Seekers of the most extreme forms of experience, explorers in the farthest realms of desire."
"I didn't mean to," pleaded Zosia. "I just...I just wanted to solve the Box."
"And now you've solved it," rasped the Female Cenobite. "And now we will give you what you truly desired."
"I didn't desire this! If I'd known what the Box was..."
"No time for protests," said the Lead Cenobite. "Now you will come with us. Now you will taste our pleasures."
Zosia could not bring herself to move, so terrified was she. This had to be a dream, a bad dream - like the ones she had been having for the past few weeks. Creatures like this couldn't exist in the real world, could they? "Oh God," she whimpered.
"Save your prayers, child. Believe me - no-one who cares is listening."
How had the Box ended up in her parent's house? Surely her mother would not have bought such an item if she'd known what it was? Zosia's mind was racing, trying to process all that was happening. "Please," she begged. "Please, I don't want this. My mother must have bought the Box by accident - I just found it in her room..."
"Your mother?" asked the Female. "Oh yes - we remember her." She cocked her head to one side and spoke: "Hello, Zoshie. How have you been?"
Zosia's eyes widened in shock. It was her mother's voice - a perfect facsimile. "How did you..."
"Your mother opened the Box. She tasted our pleasures," said the Lead Cenobite. "I only hope your suffering will be as sweet as hers."
"My mother..." Zosia gestured towards the passageway. "Is...is she there? I want to see her!"
The Lead Cenobite smiled joylessly. "Impossible, child. She is in her own hell, as you will soon be in yours. She is quite unreachable."
"I want to see her!" yelled Zosia, finding the strength to take a step forward. As soon as she did, a sharp pain shot through her right hand, accompanied by the sound of chains rattling. She looked over to see a chain, stretching out from the darkness, a hook on the end, speared through the skin of her hand. She moaned in pain, instinctively reaching over to unhook her hand. Before she could do so, another chain shot out, impaling her other hand. Then the chains retracted, slamming her against the back wall, arms pulled taut.
She screamed in pain as the chains pulled against her flesh, the pain almost too much to bear.
The Female Cenobite walked over to her, a hooked tool in her hand. "Such spirit, Zosia," she whispered. "Your mother had it too." She reached the hook up to score Zosia's face, drawing it down her cheek just hard enough to draw blood. At the same time, she reached her other hand up to caress Zosia's other cheek, her ashen skin impossibly soft. "This is just a taste of what you will soon experience," she said softly.
Zosia sobbed , indistinct pleas spilling from her mouth as she tried to process all of this. Her mother wouldn't have wanted this. Had she opened the Box by accident too? Did her father know about this? Had her mother been taken one day, and her father had scrambled to deal with it? Or...
Slowly, the answer started to come to her. Her mother wouldn't have bought such an item, not if she'd known what it was. Something the Lead Cenobite had said about pleasures came back to her, and her thoughts turned to her father - someone who lived for various pleasures of one sort or another. She knew he wasn't faithful - she'd known that for a long time. Maybe he was also a seeker of other types of pleasure. Had his search led him here, to this Box? Then why hadn't he been taken?
All of those questions and more - why had the funeral director acted so weird? Why had her father explicitly blamed Zosia for her mother's death? All of those questions combined in Zosia's head, and suddenly, with blinding clarity, she knew. Or at least, she had a theory. A flimsy one, but with it, there was a chance.
"Please wait," she yelled, though the pain.
"Wait? For what?" asked the Lead Cenobite. "For you to beg some more? There is an eternity of begging ahead for you, and we have stayed for too long already."
The Chattering Cenobite and the Large Cenobite both began to walk towards her, the Chatterer's teeth snapping faster in anticipation, the Large Cenobite pulling various saws and tools from his belt. In desperation, Zosia yelled: "You were tricked!" at the top of her voice.
"Oh Zosia," whispered the Female Cenobite, her face barely inches from Zosia's. "Such a fierce spirit to break."
The Lead Cenobite, however, frowned. "Wait." he said firmly.
"Wait?" asked the Female in confusion.
"Wait," commanded the Leader. The Female, the Chatterer and the Large Cenobite duly stepped back from Zosia, leaving her hanging on the chains. "Explain yourself."
"My father," gasped Zosia. "He tricked you."
"Is this a trick, Zosia?" asked the Female with a smile. "Are you teasing us?"
"No one tricks us!" said the Leader angrily. "This is a ploy, to stall us."
"No...no, I swear. My mother must have told you that she didn't open the Box..." There was no reply from the Cenobites. "It's because she didn't...my father did...I think, at least. He must have tricked you...made you think she did...so you'd take her, not him."
"Do you know this, or is this merely guesses?" queried the Leader. "We have little patience for games."
"I know my mother!" spat out Zosia. "I know what she'd do, and what she wouldn't. I know this."
"And if this is true, what then?" inquired the Female. "Maybe we like the toys we already have."
The Leader paused for a few moments, his scarred face unreadable. "We will not be toyed with," he said finally. "If we have been tricked, we must have our revenge."
The chains pulled away from Zosia, tearing the backs of her hands open. She fell to the ground, whimpering in pain.
"Go to your father. Make him confess himself," continued the Leader. "Then we may spare you."
"What about my mother?" asked Zosia through gasps of pain.
"The Box was opened twice," rasped the Female. "We require two souls."
"So, even if I do this...you're not going to free my mother?" demanded Zosia. "You have to!"
"You are not in the position to demand anything, child. Your freedom is all you may gain from this arrangement."
Zosia staggered to her feet. "Wait...you said you needed two souls? Okay...if I do this...you'll take my father...and let my mother go..." She closed her eyes, tears running freely down her face. "And instead of her, take...take me. Let her go, and I'll go with you - willingly. You can do whatever you like to me then."
The Leader smiled. "Such spirit! Knowing your flesh will be such sweet, sweet reward. Very well. Deliver us the trickster, and we will honour this bargain."
"Okay," whispered Zosia. "I'll do it." She sank to her knees again, exhausted almost beyond the limits of human endurance. She took a deep breath, and exhaled, her breath coming out in huge, racking sobs as she realised the enormity of what she had agreed to.
When she opened her eyes again, the Cenobites were gone, and the far wall was back in solid form again. There was no trace of them remaining, no chains, nothing. The only evidence that they had ever been there was the Box, and the gashes on her hands and face.
She ran from her room into the hall, then to Arthur's room. Without knocking, she stormed in and started shaking his sleeping body. "Arthur, wake up!"
Arthur moaned in protest as he slowly came to consciousness. He stared at Zosia blearily, blinking at her in surprise. "What? What's going on?"
"You didn't hear that?" yelled Zosia. "None of it? How could you not?"
Dominic stuck his head around the door. "Zosh? What's going on?"
Zosia whirled her head around to look at him. "You didn't hear it either?"
"Hear what? Zosh, are you drunk?"
Arthur reached for his glasses, and frowned as he slipped them on. "Is there...is there blood on my sheets?" He saw Zosia's face, then her hands. "Oh my god...Zosia, you're hurt!"
"What?" Dominic walked over to her to inspect the wounds as well. "Zosh, you're bleeding! What happened?"
"I...I..." Zosia took a step back. What could she say? Clearly Arthur and Dominic hadn't heard the Cenobite's visit. Was it only reserved for those who solved the Box? She couldn't tell them the truth - they'd think she'd fully lost her mind. "Nothing..." she said nervously.
Arthur flicked on his lamp, and took her hands, examining the cuts in greater detail. "We need to get these cleaned up. Dom - get the first aid kit."
"Got it." Dominic rushed to fetch it.
"Okay...just come with me," said Arthur gently, leading Zosia into the kitchen. "Why were you trying to wake me so badly? Was it because you'd had an accident? Though..." He shook his head. "I'm not really sure what kind of accident could cause these."
Zosia said nothing, and let herself be lead to the kitchen table, where Dominic was waiting with the first aid kit. She remained silent as the two men cleaned her wounds, and applied dressing. She ignored all of their questions, and tried to work out her next move.
"Finished!" said Arthur with a small flourish. "Not bad, even if I do say so myself."
"I helped, remember?" interjected Dominic.
Arthur ignored him. "Luckily they were just...ah...surface cuts for the most part. Not very deep - plus they didn't harm anything vital. Just flesh wounds, really. Although...still quite mysterious flesh wounds. The ones on your hands look like they came from...well, from hooks of some kind."
"Zosia?" said Dominic softly. "We're worried about you, sweetie. Tell us what happened."
"Did you..." Arthur paused and took a deep breath. "Did you do this to yourself, Zosia? On purpose?"
Zosia looked up and met his gaze. "No," she said firmly.
"Well, you have to admit it's kind of odd," said Dominic. "We're not accusing you of anything, but...you have to admit that you've been acting..."
"Very erratically," finished Arthur. "And I...we just want to help you. I mean, get you the help you need."
"I know what I need to do," said Zosia quietly. She rose from the table. "I'm sorry for waking you both, but I need...I need to go to bed. Big day tomorrow - I'm going back to work."
"Wait, is that it?" asked Dominic. "We deserve an explanation, Zosh."
"And is going back to work really such a good idea?" added Arthur. "Plus then there's the fact that you just walked out several days ago without permission and haven't shown up since, which could complicate your return a little."
"Thank you for patching me up," said Zosia gratefully. "I mean it. You two are the greatest friends anyone could ask for." She turned and walked back to her room, ignoring the protests behind her. She needed her rest - she knew what she had to do now.
The next morning, Zosia did indeed return to work, or at least, she returned to the hospital. She had more important things on her mind than her job. After a quick detour to pick something up, she strode through Keller ward with purpose. Her head was clear now, for the first time in days. She had a job to do, and nothing would get in her way.
Sacha Levy spotted her, and walked over. "Ah, Doctor March - glad to see you back! I have to say your disappearance had us all worried, and it is something we need to talk about..." He tailed off as he realised that Zosia wasn't stopping. "Doctor March?" he called after her. "Zosia? Come back - you can't just ignore me like this..."
"Doctor Levy?" It was Arthur, Zosia could hear. "I need to speak to you...it's about Doctor March..."
Zosia wondered what they might be talking about, but she had no time to wonder, and certainly no time to stop and see. She continued her journey, and presently arrived at her ultimate destination - the CEO's office. Not bothering to knock, she strode in. Her father and Colette were there - neither seemed surprised to see her, oddly enough.
"Good morning, Zoshie," said her father calmly. "I've just had a very interesting phone call about you. How are your face and hands?"
"Don't Zoshie me!" said Zosia. She took a deep breath - she needed to remain calm. "I need to talk to you."
"Of course, darling," said her father soothingly. "Can I just make one phone call, please?"
"No!"
Guy ignored her. He picked up his phone and dialled a number. "Yes, it's me," he said after a minute. "She's here."
While he was on the phone, Colette leaned towards Zosia. "Zosh? Do you want to take a seat? You look like you're ready to explode..."
Zosia angrily swung her head to look at Colette. "If I find out you knew..."
"Knew what?" asked Colette, looking genuinely baffled.
Guy hung up. "Sorry about that, darling. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Zosia tried to remain calm, even though every fibre of her body wanted to burst with rage. "I...I know what you did. What you did to Mama."
"I don't understand..."
"Liar!" Zosia pulled the Box from her pocket and slammed it down on the table. "Recognise this?"
Guy's expression did not change. "You took that from the house, right? I thought you didn't take anything else. Any other surprises I have to look forward to?"
"What is it?" asked Colette.
"A trinket. Something Anya picked up on a holiday once. A puzzle Box, I think." Guy looked at Zosia. "What does it have to do with anything?"
"Oh, it's more than just a puzzle Box, Dad - as you well know! I know that you opened this, and I know what you did afterwards." Zosia shook her head. "How could you do that to Mama? I thought you loved her..."
"Guy?" asked Colette, clearly very confused.
"I'm as lost as you are, Colette," said Guy calmly. "Now, why don't you sit down, Zoshie, and we can talk about this..."
"You killed her!" screamed Zosia, causing Colette to jump back in shock. "You killed Mama, and then you made me think I did it!"
"Zosh," said Colette, her voice a little unnerved now, "Guy didn't kill anyone. I know that you're hurting, and that you miss Anya, but you have to know that."
"How can you be so calm?" yelled Zosia at Guy, ignoring Colette. "How can you sit there, knowing what you did? You play the grieving husband, the...the...beleaguered father so well, but I know what you are...I know!"
"I'm calm," said Guy, standing up slowly, " because I know that you're not in your right mind, and that your mind is making up ridiculous fantasies, and that you don't really believe any of this. I only want to help you."
Zosia was trying her best not to lose it, but it wasn't working. How could he be so calm? He knew what he'd done, didn't he? At least, what she heavily suspected he'd done. Could she be wrong? Could her mother have actually opened the Box on her own after all? Could her father be innocent?
No. No...Zosia knew her mother. She knew what her mother could have done, and what she couldn't. She would never have opened the Box - it had been her father, and now he was denying it. Clearly, her current approach wasn't working - it was time for some added incentive. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the item she had made a detour to collect - a scalpel.
At this, Colette leapt to her feet. "Jesus! Zosia, what the fuck..?"
Guy held a hand out to stop her. "It's okay, Colette." He turned to Zosia. "Zoshie, listen to me. You're ill. You've been harming yourself - Doctor Digby told me all about last night, and your behaviour over the last few days. You're not well, darling."
Zosia brandished the scalpel towards him. "Don't give me that! You tried to blame me for Mama, now you're trying to act like I'm crazy! Why won't you just admit it? Set her free! If you ever really loved her, then just..."
Guy stepped around from behind his desk, taking a few tentative steps towards her, despite Colette's panicked warnings. "Zosia...just listen to me. I don't know what you think happened, but whatever it is - you're wrong. I loved your mother. I would never have done anything to hurt her."
He took a few more steps towards her. Zosia waved the scalpel in his direction. "Stay back!" she yelled. "I mean it - you can't talk your way out of this!"
"I'm sorry," he said, his tone utterly sincere. "I was wrong in the way I talked to you the other day. You're probably just feeling guilty..."
The reminder of that particular conversation caused Zosia to finally erupt. She was unclear at the exact order of the events that followed, but she knew that right after he said that, she had screamed at the top of her voice, and he had tried to make a lunge for the scalpel. She had slashed at him to keep him at bay, and sliced his arm, causing a spray of blood to hit against the wall of the office and drip down onto the baseboard.
Then Colette had started screaming too. After that, it was all a bit of a blur - her father had been yelling in pain, Colette was rushing to his aid, Zosia was ranting and threatening - the exact sequence of events was unclear. All Zosia was sure of was that at some point security had burst in and tackled her to the ground, while she screamed accusations and obscenities at her father. She had kicked and bit, but could not break free. Then there had been a pin prick, and the world had gone dark.