Balance - Book 2 by Marc Dickason
*****
Next it was back to Defence and Countermeasures, and my second surprise for the day. Delaney was not only on time but had cleared the hall for practical lessons. The other Cadets were already pairing up, Anderson glimpsed among them.
Quickly realising where the situation was headed I made a desperate attempt and approached a few Cadets, but they walked immediately in the opposite direction. The last two paired off and I looked at Delaney. He smiled and gestured for me to join him.
“I see you have your Active status,” he said.
“I do, sir, yes.”
“Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He eyed me for a moment, then turned and addressed the others.
“What makes you afraid?’ he asked, looking around at sombre faces. “That is a question to which you are all going to give much thought today. There are a few common culprits relied upon by many when answering this question, and indeed spiders, snakes, cockroaches and rats seem like a logical answer, at least to the average person. And yes, I suppose creepy crawlies are effective at least an acceptable percentage of the time, but they cannot be relied on. Why is this?”
He pointed to a random Cadet.
“Not everyone is afraid of creepy crawlies, sir,” the Cadet replied.
“Correct. These things address only surface fears; ones that may be overcome. It is, after all, useless to attempt scaring a person who works with insects for a living with images of spiders. And, in fact, some may even feel you are presenting them with a gourmet buffet. Certain groups of Venezuelans, for example, are known to hunt and eat large spiders. However,” he paused for emphasis, eyes moving from face to face, “Understand that just a few small details can make a spider terrifying even to an entomologist and you begin to embrace the true nature of primal fear.”
There was a murmur of interest.
“Are you fond of dogs, Clarence,” he said, gaze returning to me.
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?”
It was something I had never given much thought. “I guess because they’re cute and friendly, sir.”
“Indeed, dogs are cute, which is odd when you consider many have enormous teeth that would easily crush your throat. But they also wag their tails when they are happy, whimper when they are anxious, and growl when they are threatened. Which other animal acts in similar ways?”
I shrugged. “Wolves?”
“Human beings,” he said wearily, “We share not only the same emotions as dogs, but express them in unmistakably similar ways. It is the recognition of these human qualities that make dogs such beloved companions. The fact that they are fluffy and enjoy being petted indeed helps. But, how can a dog, previously so adored, become something not only unsettling, but terrifying?”
My mind threw up an image of a snarling dog, teeth bared. “When it intends us harm, sir.”
He nodded. “Yes, a random angry dog is indeed scary in a survival instinct sort of way. But imagine this dog has been your pet for a decade, only to suddenly turn feral and attack you without restraint.” He turned to a female Cadet. “Would this be more or less terrifying than if it were a stray dog met in the street?”
“More,” the girl said.
“And why is that?”
“I’m not sure, sir. Because the animal is a friend turned enemy?”
“Exactly, my dear,” he said, smiling, “Something that has already been associated with human qualities, suddenly stripped of them, is an assault to our very natures. So wired are we to recognise sentient attributes that we see faces in clouds where there are none, and so wired are we to respond to certain sounds that almost all act in a similar fashion to a crying baby or fellow human in distress. Do you all understand?”
There was general nodding.
“Good. You will find that the opposite is likewise true, that bestowing recognisable characteristics on objects that have no business being human are equally unsettling. You may point out that a singing teapot once captured your heart in an animated film, but you will find that much has been done to make that teapot more human then inanimate object. Think instead of the discomfort felt around mannequins, and then imagine how delightful it would be if that mannequin blinked its eyes and addressed you by your first name.”
He turned to me again. “So, how would you make a spider terrifying to an entomologist, Clarence?’
I thought for a second. “I guess I would make the spider cry like a human baby, sir.”
“Yes, Clarence,” he agreed. “The image of a spider, a real one, not animated to be more human then insect, crying like a human baby as it writhed in agony is deeply unsettling. Even a person who has spent time being acquainted with spiders would agree. And thus one of the primal weak points in the human mind is exposed. There are others, of course, loss of basic sense in the world, such as up and down being switched, but this being the accelerated class I will touch on this only briefly.”
“What about Body Horror?” a Cadet spoke up.
Delaney frowned. “Body Horror is an outlawed technique for a reason, Cadet. Very simply, because it can, and often does, result in lasting mental trauma for targets. Only humane alternatives are utilised by the D.O.M, techniques that handicap temporarily. But trust me when I say these techniques are more than effective when used correctly. So then, shall we get in some practical experience, Cadets?”
He again turned to me, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek.
“Here we are again, Clarence. Are you prepared to defend against my attack this time?”
I felt my tongue dart out and apply moisture to dry lips. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
The Cadets craned their necks as Delaney fixed me with a look of determination. I took a breath and delved inward, rapidly attempting to secure my Place of Calm as vertigo descended.
‘Holy shit he’s fast,’ my brain commented indignantly.
For thirty seconds nothing more occurred. Delaney stared with an unflinching gaze. The Cadets watched on. There was silence.
‘Not this time,’ I told myself, ‘Not this time. I can wait as long as you can.’
The vertigo deepened. I remained focused. More time ticked by. Delaney continued to stare.
It gradually dawned that the surrounding silence was strange; disorientating, somehow too thick and complete. Unnatural. I could not hear a cough or throat clearing from the Cadets, nor even the distant sounds of activity in other halls of the Academy. As I registered this anomaly another sensation began to take hold. Detachment. I was somehow out of place, in the hall but not part of it. A new thought immediately followed; I was dreaming. Damn it, I was dreaming. Probably on the floor in the real world, unconscious while the Cadets stared down at me in silent pity. That son of a bitch Delaney, somehow he had disabled me and I hadn’t even seen it coming.
My eyes darted from Delaney to the Cadets. They were indeed still present. However, there was something strange about the cluster of deadpan faces, as if they were not looking at me, but through me.
It was then I noticed the hall was larger. And in fact appeared to be expanding in size. But, alarmingly, every time I tried to process how much larger it was by comparing its space to my own perceived size, I realised that in fact it was not expanding at all; I was getting smaller.
My brow furrowed. I fought to maintain logic under the barrage of disorientation. I returned my gaze to Delaney and my heart lurched. Where he had stood was now a glistening female body; pale, bloated, and with skin sagging like crumpled plastic sheeting. A gawking face loomed at me, glassy eyes imitating those of a dead fish. White hands clawed for my face.
But the shock lasted only a second; calm was maintained. Anyone watching a few modern horror movies had seen more disturbing, and in fact part of me was even a little disappointed.
“This all you got?” I muttered. “What happened to crying spiders?”
Then something happened.
For the briefest moment I could have s
The flame was in my stomach, raising its head and snapping with bared teeth at a cage door. A slumbering beast roused from temporary lethargy.
I realised I was backing away.
But… the hole in her cheek. A black hole oozing pink liquid. It was not Liza Clarence, it was Brent. His eyes stared off in opposite directions, air whistling through the moist hole.
Wait. The black hair, delicate mole below the corner of the mouth, potent brown eyes. It wasn’t Brent; it was Selena; hands reaching with murderous intent.
Angry black roots shot out and buried themselves in my head. Vertigo crashed in from all directions like a tidal wave. I was terrified.
My brain yammered, screaming at me that Brent was my demon, and not Benny’s, that I would have a second ghoul to deal with. And I deserved it, had earned it. A demon of Pout, Sunglasses and Conrad would soon follow, perhaps one of Selena, and they would haunt me until I snapped and melted into screaming insanity.
But no…
In a Herculean effort some brave part of me rose up and breached the chaos like a life preserver.
It’s not Brent… it’s not Selena…it’s not Liza Clarence…
…it was not any of these people, I knew. It was a zombie dreamed up from the mind of Delaney.
I took a deep breath and fought against adrenalin that flushed into my limbs. The black tentacles were seized and pushed away.
The creature took a shuffling step forward. Its glistening hands clawed at the space where my face would be. Its mouth opened and I braced, anticipating a discordant zombie groan. But the sound that emerged instead was the shriek of a housecat in distress.
“Oh God, Critter,” I muttered.
The poor fat feline. He hadn’t deserved it. He hadn’t deserved what I had done to him. Twice.
The creature took another step forward and moist fingertips touched my face. Critter’s shriek warped and transformed into words.
“Jet, mommy loves you. How could you ever doubt mommy loves you…?”
I reeled. My Place of Calm shattered and the black tentacles slithered in to ensnare my brain. The flame burst from its cage and went shrieking about my head like a banshee. But the ghoul did not desist. The voice emerged again.
“Jet. Partner. Help me…”
It reached for me. Wet fingers fumbled at my cringing face. I felt my legs go out and body hit the ground. I braced, ready to fend off another attack, breath hissing between teeth.
But only Delaney was looking down at me, his grin so smug you would have sworn he was receiving a standing ovation.
“Catch you off guard again, Clarence?”