Okay, sorry I'm late, gamers, it was a surprisingly busy day. Who knew a hair cut could take so much time out of the day?
Anyway, this is my favorite chapter so far, I think, and it's one of the longest I've written so far, too. I hope you'll all really enjoy it. As the title implies, we're going to meet a very important character today, so get hype! I'll see you at the bottom of the page!
Gadget (noun): a small mechanical device, especially one that is novel and extraordinary
Gabe - Gabriel (name) (Hebrew origin): "God is my strength"; often linked to the angel Gabriel, who was best known for announcing the birth of Jesus Christ and John the Baptist
The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when Rupert finally exited the tiny airport and stepped into Shady Sea Town. Honestly, it was a mite amazing that there was an airport in this crummy little town at all, especially when he surveyed the extent of its crumminess.
Like the name implied, Shady Sea Town looked like a desolate tourist trap. There were a few dirty buildings that might have once been painted in pretty pastels, but now looked gray and brown under the cloudy sky above. Even the roads looked filthy, with bits of trash and cigarette butts stuck between the cracks in the sidewalks. The roar of the ocean was loud, even from up here, and the scent of rotten fish permeated everything. Not only did the town smell fishy, but the people did, too; any locals Rupert caught a glimpse of were beady-eyed and scruffy, darting between the buildings and peering at him when they thought he wasn't looking.
Rupert pursed his lips as he strode through the town, only vaguely paying attention to any points of interest he passed. Shady Sea Town was situated above the beach on a small hill, and a winding path of grimy cobblestone led towards a fishing pier. Far to the left, perched precariously on an outcropping of sharp rocks, was a lighthouse. A sign he skimmed over seemed to indicate the lighthouse was once the town's pride and joy. Were lighthouses impressive enough to be regarded so highly? Hell if Rupert knew.
He eventually came upon a town square of sorts, surrounded by rotting benches that faced a disgusting-looking fountain. Rupert decided it was as good a place as any to stop for breakfast. He picked the cleanest looking bench and set his backpack down by his feet, pulling out a sandwich he'd bought at the airport to eat. He'd seen a restaurant, but now was not the time to get food poisoning. Besides, his funds were limited; he'd found a cheap wallet to fill with a reasonable amount of cash, and he'd packed lightly, too. His backpack contained a single change of clothes, a simple medkit, a flashlight, and a swiss army knife, just in case. He was currently wearing some camo pants, boots, and a black wife beater under his PT jacket, and his dog tags were tucked safely under the wife beater, in case something happened. Which it wouldn't. Rupert was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and one random bloke in an old lighthouse wouldn't exactly be a long, hard fight. This would be over before the day was done. Nothing bad would happen. At all.
After finishing the bland ham and cheese sandwich, Rupert walked down the path to the fishing pier. He hoped there was a path down there to the lighthouse; otherwise, the most direct path would be along the beach. Rupert didn't like the beach on a good day, but from up here, the beach looked right putrid, covered with crap from the sea and human trash. Was it really so bloody hard not to litter?
The pier was soaking wet, with slicks of red and pink stained into the wood from past catches. It was empty except for a single fisherman tending to his lines. Rupert stared down the shoreline towards the lighthouse and grimaced. The beach was even worse than he thought. It would have been a blessing if it were more rocks than sand, but no; sand was clearly the dominant resident, and it looked just damp enough to stick to his boots and get into any nook and crevice it could, all at once. A film of what he hoped was seafoam covered the lower half of the shore, frothing and spitting slightly whenever the waves slapped against it.
He sighed sharply. Whatever. Sand was sand, muck was muck. He could handle it; he'd faced worse threats before. He lifted his foot to make the first step-
"Oi, landlubber!"
Rupert glanced over his shoulder to see that fisherman approaching him. He looked exactly like what a stereotypical old sea dog would look like: long gray hair and a beard, frayed and stringy from the salty breeze, a deep tan that wrinkled his face in layers, and even a scarred over eye that was just missing an eye patch to complete the look. "Can I help you, sir?" Suspicious or not, it would be smart of Rupert to put his best foot forward.
The man scowled at him. "Ye ain't headin' fer that there lighthouse, are ye?"
Rupert glanced between the man and the lighthouse. "I am, sir."
"Not the brightest fish in the sea, eh?" The man shook his head slowly. "The lighthouse ain't what it used to be, boyo. It's not safe there, especially nowadays."
"Nowadays, sir?"
The fisherman's scowl deepened. "Some loony moved in last year; claims to be a great inventor. The only thing he's invented is this town's bankruptcy!" He spat in the direction of the lighthouse. "Things were slow here, but with that freak having his way, th' whole town's doomed to sink."
Rupert recognized that this was a serious and perhaps even sensitive topic to the man, so he did his best to hide his excitement. A crazy scientist holed up in an abandoned lighthouse? He hadn't come to this crap town for nothing after all! Still, it would be smashing if he could make sure it was the right scientist before he made the trip along the beach. "That scientist," he said as casually as he knew how, "is he called 'Gadget Gabe', do you think?"
The man barked, though Rupert couldn't tell if it was a laugh or a sound of anger. "That's what he claims, but that scallywag's 'gadgets' are only good fer puttin' this town in danger. T'was bad enough when he locked us out of our own property, but then his experiments…" His eye drifted toward the sea, looking at something Rupert couldn't see. "Hell on Earth," he finally said. "That loon will bring Hell on Earth. Ye don't want to go to that lighthouse, boyo."
Rupert bit the inside of his cheek, glancing again at the old structure across the beach. Gadget Gabe had managed to get his military phone number, something that should have been a highly kept secret, and he did claim to know things the government wasn't aware of. If this fisherman was right, then Rupert might be in for a tougher fight than he thought.
He shook his head and fixed the fisherman with a firm but hopefully reassuring look. "Don't worry, sir. As it happens, I plan to give that bloke what for. I can handle it."
Another wad of spit in the direction of the lighthouse. "Good luck, boyo. Poseidon help ye." And with that, the man turned back to tend to his fishing line once more.
*Line Break Wheeee*
The hour-long trek across the shore was every bit as unpleasant as Rupert had expected. He was hot, sore, and he could feel every single grain of sand that had wormed its way into his socks. Top that all off with the climb he'd had to take up the rocks, sharp enough to leave cuts all over his hands as he'd gone… Well, he was ready to be done with this whole thing.
The lighthouse, surprisingly, didn't seem that tall once he was standing under it. It was only about as tall as a two story building, and the peeling black and white paint seemed cliche. There was a short series of stone steps leading up to the door, which was rotting and practically hanging off its hinges. It creaked loudly when he nudged it open with his foot, and Rupert reached into his backpack to transfer his knife to his pocket.
The inside was dark, made of clammy gray stone, and a staircase spiraled upwards without a handrail of any sort for safety. The more interesting thing to note was the door descending into a dark basement, which ended at another door. Rupert retrieved his flashlight, took a deep breath, and began to walk down.
The room at the bottom of the steps smelled awful, but for very different reasons than Rupert had expected. Trash and dirty laundry littered nearly every available inch of the floor, aside from a vaguely path-shaped line that led towards a hallway. The trash mostly consisted of empty crisp bags and takeout boxes, and it was clear that whoever lived here had never heard of deodorant. He wrinkled his nose as he tiptoed through it all. People didn't choose to live this way- or at least he hoped they didn't- but how on Earth could anyone let things get this bad?
There was a click behind him, and he whirled around to see that the door had shut behind him. Instantly, his hackles raised, and he put away his flashlight and drew his knife, keeping his stance low and slow as he crept further inside. The hallway that the path of laundry led to rounded a corner into a very different looking room, made of dark metal and mostly empty aside from a single wide window on the far wall.
The window looked into a nearly identical metal room, though it was filled with strange machines and cables that were aimed at a slightly raised platform. Under this side of the window, a long row of blinking buttons, switches, and dials hummed and beeped rhythmically. And at the very center of this apparent control panel was a chair, turned away but very clearly occupied by a single person.
Rupert carefully slipped his knife into the sleeve of his PT jacket, where he could easily reach it at a moment's notice. "Oi, you," he called, keeping his voice firm. "Are you Gadget Gabe?" The chair turned slowly, revealing…
…the grossest little man Rupert ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes on. He was short and greasy, his lab coat stained in multiple places while there was an obvious smear of food near the corner of his mouth. If he had to guess, it was from a meal that happened days ago.
He wore thick, round glasses that were so fogged up that Rupert couldn't see his eyes, he was bald except for a single curly hair sticking out of the top of his head, and his thick lips were quirked into a very dubious smirk. The little wanker was even tapping his finger tips together like a comic book super villain.
"Gadget Gabe was expecting you, Rupert Price," he said in that same nasally voice Rupert had heard over the phone.
He bit the inside of his cheek and widened his stance. It figured that someone who'd gotten his phone number would know his name, but it was still extremely off-putting. The man continued, "Gadget Gabe knew it was only a matter of time until you sought Gadget Gabe's help. Gadget Gabe knows many things…"
Rupert had never met this man in his life, he was certain of that now, which made the fact that he'd managed to put a business card in his room all the more confusing, which in turn made him angrier. "How did you get into my room? And how did you get my phone number?"
The man chuckled. "One of Gadget Gabe's great gadgets. The teleporter has many uses, yes…"
"Teleporter-?"
"And as for the number…" He was silent for a moment, leveling Rupert with a frown. "Gadget Gabe googled it. Obviously."
Rupert stared at him, blinking once. Twice. "...You can't just google a private military phone number; that's classified!"
The man shrugged. "Gadget Gabe googled it."
Rupert ran a hand through his hair. He'd have to unpack that later. "You said you knew about my- my friend, yeah?" His hands turned to fists. "If you're smart, you'll surrender him safely, now, before I beat the hell out of you-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Gadget Gabe waved his hands frantically, a hint of fear in his voice. "Let Gadget Gabe ask just one question."
Rupert lowered his stance, ready to pounce. "Just one. Go."
The man shoved his glasses up his nose hurriedly. "30.75 degrees, -150.82 degrees."
Rupert blinked. "...Come again?"
"30.75 degrees latitude, -150.82 degrees longitude. Do these coordinates sound familiar?"
Rupert was not a navigator by any stretch of the word, but he did know those coordinates. How could he forget? The attack on the Toppats had been somewhere around those coordinates, just before Galeforce had given the greenlight to board the airship. When his hopes of finding Dave had been at their highest.
Gadget Gabe giggled, an altogether unpleasant sound. "Gadget Gabe knew it. Gadget Gabe knows many things…"
Rupert felt his face flush. Letting his thoughts and feelings show on his face was a huge no, especially when facing an enemy. The little freak was getting the upper hand; he needed to get back on top right quick. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Gadget Gabe will explain, if you give Gadget Gabe some time. Will you listen?"
Rupert's eyebrows twitched. He really, really wanted to crack the man on the nose- he'd come all this way, after all. But he also knew that there were things that he didn't understand quite yet, and unfortunately, this gross little wanker was the one with the details. It was fine. Rupert could be patient. He nodded and gestured to Gadget Gabe to keep talking.
"Gadget Gabe has many experiments," he began.
Bloody hell, here comes the monologue.
"Gadget Gabe has particular interests in the manipulation of time and space; the teleporter is Gadget Gabe's most successful- and most volatile- gadget. However, there is more to be done."
He shifted in his seat to rest his cheek in one hand, the other lazily patting his leg in random rhythms. "Gadget Gabe seeks to create infinite storage with the power of pocket dimensions; for Gadget Gabe's own use, mostly, but selling it to the world governments could prove quite profitable." He chuckled to himself. "Recently, Gadget Gabe's gadgets detected a spike in energy. For a single moment, a pocket dimension opened high above those coordinates. It is possible that anyone near this energy spike- perhaps your friend, for instance- may now be trapped in that very pocket dimension." His thick lips curled into a crazed smile. "Gadget Gabe calls this place… the Backrooms."
And just like that, Rupert was out of patience. "Are you arsing me right now?!" He exploded. "You made me come all the way out to this shite town to spew this internet garbage? I've had enough of this! I'll box your ears, and then some!"
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" Gadget Gabe shrieked. "Gadget Gabe can explain! It's not what you think!"
Rupert reached into the sleeve of his jacket, flashing the knife but not pulling it out. "You get sixty seconds. Talk."
Gadget Gabe whined like an injured puppy, a mental image that was not improving Rupert's mood. "The internet stole the name from Gadget Gabe, yes they did! But the Backrooms are real, they are! Gadget Gabe can prove it!"
Rupert rotated his wrist. "Well? Go on then. Prove it."
The little man scrambled to press a button on the control panel behind him, and a screen popped out of the ceiling above his head. After a second, a series of video clips began playing; mostly from security footage, based on the quality. And during each of these seconds-long clips, things would simply… disappear. People, objects, even an entire car, seemed to slip through the ground as easily as if they were falling through thin air. Rupert studied the clip of the car in particular, which phased through a section of a highway in a flash, only for the following cars to pass over the road just as quickly.
After the last clip, a picture was displayed on the screen that drew Rupert's attention completely. It was the room behind the window, capturing every strange device aimed at the center of the platform. Under the photograph were the words "Doorway to the Backrooms".
"Open it," he said before he could stop himself. "Open the door and prove you're not making this up."
Gadget Gabe sighed shakily. "The doorway takes much planning and power to open, let alone keep open. HOWEVER-!" He threw his arms over his head when Rupert shot him a glare. "Gadget Gabe knew, yes he did, that you would come to find your friend! So Gadget Gabe prepared for your arrival, prepared to open the doorway once more!" He slowly lowered his arms. "Gadget Gabe just needs one more day before the doorway can be opened. Just one more day…"
Rupert glowered at him. "'Just one more day,' innit? More like one more day to run when I'm not looking! If you're lying-"
"Gadget Gabe can do it! Honest!" The man shouted, sounding firmer than he had up until now. "That is not the problem!"
Rupert squinted. "What are you on about?"
Gadget Gabe sighed in frustration. "Gadget Gabe has sent many subjects through this doorway, but Gadget Gabe has never seen one come back. They all just disappear."
Rupert's brain stalled at that last sentence. Then a hot rush of indignance opened his mouth, on behalf of the people this man had murdered-
"Not people!" The man insisted, as if reading his mind. "Lab rats, house pets; nothing of value." Rupert stared at him in horror. This seemed to irritate the man more than anything.
"Blow up a dozen rats, no one bats an eye. Set one basket of kittens on fire, everyone loses their minds…" he grumbled to himself.
This did not make Rupert feel better in the slightest.
Gadget Gabe cleared his throat and continued. "Gadget Gabe cannot enter the Backrooms, you see, for Gadget Gabe must keep the door open from our world. Now, though…" he smirked once more, pointing directly at Rupert. "You need to enter the Backrooms to find your friend. Gadget Gabe needs a live subject to understand the Backrooms. Do you see?"
Rupert crossed his arms. "You want me to be your guinea pig."
The little man leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and holding his hands out to the sides. "If you are unsuccessful, Gadget Gabe gets one subject to analyze. If you succeed, Gadget Gabe gets two. And if you die, well… Gadget Gabe can still get valuable data. Gadget Gabe wins, however this turns out."
"And what makes you so certain that I'm going to agree to this at all?" Rupert asked.
The man looked at him for a long moment, still in that stupidly cocky position in his chair. Then, he shrugged.
Rupert blinked. "What?"
"Gadget Gabe cannot make you take this deal," the little man said with another shrug. "Gadget Gabe cannot make you do anything. But," he leaned forward, glasses gleaming dully in the light. "Gadget Gabe knows things about the Backrooms, what lies in store for those who get trapped there. Things that your friends might not survive."
A chill ran down the back of Rupert's neck.
Gadget Gabe didn't seem to notice, instead counting off his fingers lazily. "Most likely, your friend will die of thirst or exhaustion- so painful! Your friend could lose his mind in a never ending maze- so sad! Your friend might even be driven to beat his own head against a wall until he dies-"
"Stop." He had to force the word, nearly choking on it. "Just- stop, okay? I… I need to think." Rupert turned his head away from Gadget Gabe, eyes clenched shut.
The little freak was manipulating him, he knew it. He could practically hear him problem was… if there was any truth to it...
Dave was plenty capable- they'd been partners at West Mesa before the layoffs- but that was mostly when he was with others. When he was alone, he overthought, doubting himself and his abilities. Getting distracted, jumpy, resorting to freeze over fight or flight. Dave was aware of this problem, and when they had to get new jobs, Rupert had suggested being a night guard in the museum. Dave had been unsure, so afraid of being alone when a thief could break in at any moment, but Rupert had assured him that he'd never be without his fellow security guards.
Rupert had told Dave about the job, convinced him to take it despite his worries, and then all of this happened. It was his fault that Dave had gotten into so many messes. Rupert had to help him, to prove that Dave could trust him again, even after that grave error in judgment.
There was hardly even a question.
A rustle of movement drew his attention back to Gadget Gabe, who was now holding out a small piece of paper in his direction. Rupert skimmed it quickly; it was a contract. "If you sign this," Gadget Gabe said, "you consent to everything and anything this experiment entails. Physical health, mental health, everything in between… and you cannot claim that you were forced into this against your will. So… will you sign?"
Rupert slowly took the contract and read it more carefully. It seemed almost word for word as Gadget Gabe claimed; he couldn't see any obvious loopholes. The whole thing was suspicious as hell, of course. The man was lying about all of this, he had to be, but… did that matter?
Johnny had died in a car accident while on the job; Rupert had witnessed the whole thing as his police partner. That, combined with Dave's disappearance that same night, led Rupert to quit the force and join the military. He hadn't been able to save Johnny, but there'd still been the possibility of saving Dave… until he disappeared after the Toppat airship raid. If Gadget Gabe was lying, then all evidence pointed to Dave being dead. If he was telling the truth, then there was a chance, small as it was, that he could still be saved.
Dave was all he had left. Most of his family had passed away or were scattered across the vast countryside of England, and he certainly didn't have any friends in the military. He'd lied to Galeforce to his face; he was certain the other soldiers mocked him behind his back; and even if Charles Calvin hadn't intended to manipulate him, he was still a superior. They could never be friends. Why would Charles even want to be friends with a failure like him, anyway?
If he found Dave, though, he could start over. They could find an apartment together, get new jobs, live out their lives like they'd planned after West Mesa.
It could be perfect.
He wordlessly took the pen and signed his name on the dotted line. "We have until tomorrow, yeah?" He asked as Gadget Gabe shoved the contract into his lab coat. "What do we do until then?"
Gadget Gabe hummed a laugh. "We have just enough time to establish your baseline- your heart rate, blood pressure, other vitals- so Gadget Gabe can see what changes occur during your time in the Backrooms. As such…" he reached out and made grabbing motions with his hands. "Gadget Gabe would like to start with a… thorough examination…"
It's for Dave's sake, Rupert thought as he grimaced. This is all for Dave.
It was always for Dave.
Dun dun duuun! Looks like Rupert's in for a rough night. Press F to send him your prayers.
Gadget Gabe is here at last! He's such a freak, I love to hate him. Of course, no one knows the the canonical Gadget Gabe is like (and all things considered, he's probably not a scientist; just a product reviewer), so that means I get to have fun making a screwy little guy. He's so gross and selfish. I hate him. I want to dump him in a river.
Shady Sea Town was a lot of fun to create, too! I thought about what I like about being near the coast, then flipped that on its head, followed by adding all the stuff I don't like about the coast to make the worst possible beach town you ever did see. The town was probably nice enough at some point, but things change, as they say. People leave, someone comes in, strange things drive the rest of them away... That's just life, baby.
I only realized after giving him the knife that an airport shouldn't have allowed Rupert to carry that on his person (or at all). Maybe being in the military grants him special privileges or something, I dunno. Suspend your disbelief for a moment; we've got bigger fish to fry (courtesy of the fisherman on the dock. How kind of him to share!)
Alright, next week, we're jumping back to Dave! What's he been up to, I wonder? Only good things, I hope! So leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I'll see you next Monday. Until then!