Chapter 41
Irma Vep woke up but could not move; her arms, legs and virtually her entire body was clamped down inside a glass sarcophagus. Her head could move a little but there was a buzzing electrical device attached to her cranium: matter of fact there was not a single square foot of her body that did not have a wired electrode plugged into her skin.
Glowing power coils were everywhere, helping the electric lamps light up the windowless room. There was a lot of machinery about. The only decoration she could see on the gothic walls was a pentagram. There was a large bubble flask, above a Bunsen burner that had simmering red liquid in it.
A tall figure wearing a rubber apron and black gloves moved across the room and turned a switch that activated a mounted turbine, then he turned to her. The man was middle-aged with medium length grey hair, some of it frazzled, obviously by contact with electricity. The eyes showed malevolence, if not madness, and an extended look at his face told Irma that he never smiles.
She tried to speak, demanding explanations, but she could not vocalise anything. If the scientist had seen that she was conscious, he didn't seem to care; going about his business, he placed a corded element in the bubbling red liquid.
Glass tubes had streaks of lightning within, shooting from one end to the other. The man adjusted a series of dials and pressed a button. A dark glass screen underneath the bubble flask suddenly lit up as a ball of light flared up then danced around the square field, no bigger than a regular window.
The buzzing got louder; not just in her head attachments but throughout the laboratory. All apparatus was powering up for something big and it involved her. Elecricity began to run through the wired electrodes into her body. It gave a mild sting but was bearable.
Irma tried to locate the aproned figure, wondering what he was going to do next; her gaze caught a brown metallic figure sitting on a throne. The figure seemed to be a female mannequin made of shiny metal. Then its head moved. This was no mannequin, it must be an automaton, Irma thought.
The feminine figure continued turning its head till it faced the curious captive. Whatever passed for eyes in that metal head glowed bright for an instant then slowly turned back. The throne she was sitting on had six attached cords on each side. The man gestured to her and she nodded. What! Is that thing alive? Irma asked herself.
A switch was pulled by the man, then two rings of light formed around the throne; one high, one low. Each ring traveled both up and down, never meeting, they kept to their half of the subject.
Forked lightning spewed out of a transparent sphere above Irma; each continuous streak touched an end of the glass sarcophagus, sending a fierce charge through the wired electrodes. Irma had felt electric shocks before but this was a strong continuous one. The buzzing resonated loud and the bubbling red liquid boiled with a frenzy, the light rings around the throne multiplied as did the forked lightning above her. Electricity surged through her with cruel ferocity. She couldn't scream or thresh about, just observe the metallic woman's chest glowing, then getting brighter all over her as Irma's consciousness seemed to fade.
One final look at this pain's author, and she saw the cold malevolent stare of the aproned man as he placed his hand on a lever. Sweet oblivion overcame Irma.
She woke slowly, still clamped down and unable to speak or even mutter. The electrical torture had stopped and all machinery seemed to have powered down, there was no longer any buzzing.
Her hold on consciousness was weak, she could tell she was going to black out again soon. That was convenient, the pain echoes were still hurting her.
The cruel scientist was tending to his machinery. A glance at the throne revealed it was vacant, the rings of light gone. Where was the automaton? Irma wondered. A female figure approached the sarcophagus, she was naked. Where did you come from? was the unasked inquiry.
Recognition gave Irma Vep the horrid half proof that her mind had cracked under the electrical abuse. The female figure was herself, it was a mirror image of herself. As Irma's consciousness slowly sank into darkness, the staring doppleganger partially closed one eye giving a look of sheer wickedness the criminal sociopath could only hope to achieve.