Back The Fourth Closet
Chapters (19)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. CHAPTER ONE
  3. CHAPTER TWO
  4. CHAPTER THREE
  5. CHAPTER FOUR
  6. CHAPTER FIVE
  7. CHAPTER SIX
  8. CHAPTER SEVEN
  9. CHAPTER EIGHT
  10. CHAPTER NINE
  11. CHAPTER TEN
  12. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  13. CHAPTER TWELVE
  14. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  16. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  17. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  18. ABOUT THE AUTHORS
  19. COPYRIGHT

“Everyone dies.” Jessica blinked; the adrenaline was wearing off, and she was beginning to feel exhausted. Afton reached up and touched the mechanical girl’s cheek, then turned his attention back to Jessica.

“The most terrible accidents sometimes bear the most beautiful fruits,” he said, as if to himself. “Re-creating the accident—that is the duty and the honor of science. To replicate the experiment, and obtain the same result. I give my life to this experiment, piece by piece.” He nodded at the girl, and she approached Jessica with deliberate steps. Jessica backed away, fear surging again.

“What are you going to do to me?” She could hear the urgency in her own voice.

“Please, enough. As a woman of science, at least try to appreciate what I’ve done,” Afton said.

“I study archaeology,” she said in a flat tone. He didn’t respond; the girl stepped closer, giving her an unreadable stare.

The plastic tarp slid from the table, and Jessica startled and stared at what was underneath, but her terror turned to confusion in an instant. There wasn’t a body, not human or machine. Instead there was a melted scrapheap, whose extensions could be interpreted as arms and legs, but with no defined mechanism of movement. There were no joints, no muscles, no skin or coverings, just masses of undefined tangles and cords, melted into one another and fused together. Most of it seemed fused to the table, burned and blackened at the edges where it touched the table itself, melting into it and seemingly inseparable from it.

“I don’t understand.” Jessica’s mouth hung open, and she sat down again without thinking.

“Good girl.” Afton smiled thinly. Jessica clenched her jaw. The animatronic girl went back to the table and took up the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. She started with her fingers again, methodically wiping down each one. “Get on with it,” Afton said impatiently. The girl did not break her deliberate pace.

“I touched you; I have to start over,” she said.

“Nonsense, just do it. I’ve survived worse than this.”

“The risk of infection …” she said calmly.