Page 116 of Monsters within Men
“Looks safe,” Noah broadcasted, sarcastically. “Squad E, we’re first, Bates and Fleming at the back.”
Beside him, Frankie scoffed. She didn’t like being mollycoddled still. He felt for her—Frankie could now hold her own when compared to the others.
Someone set up a surveillance drone, and it hovered over Noah’s head as he pried open the door at the top of the ladder with a crowbar. Half-expecting a swarm of types to explode out of the roof, Zeke tensed. But the door swung open to reveal a seemingly empty, dark abyss. They sent the drone through and the live video feed revealed a small space—just enough height to stand up in—containing a sea of wooden rafters, but not a lot else. Squad E didn’t hesitate on the dubious rungs. Zeke, following at the very back, tried to match their pace, but winced as he put weight on his injured ankle.
The attic quickly became crowded when C and K joined them. Helmet lights flashed left and right, illuminating small patches with dim beams.
Noah nodded to the other side of the attic, which was open and seemingly fell down to the ground floor. “Permission to lead on, ma’am?”
“Granted. After you, Forrest.”
The platoon was at ease as they crossed the floor, taking care to step over the wooden beams. The attic was large enough that it seemed to take an age to reach the other side, and an odd sense of suspense bloomed within the group. He held a fairly good idea of what could be down there, since Noah had filled him in somewhat—although there was definitely information Noah was withholding from him.
“What’s that noise?”
“Doesn’t sound like types.”
Noah turned back to look at him as they neared the edge, trying unsuccessfully to communicate something.
“What?” Zeke hissed.
“Just… be careful,” Noah whispered back.
Zeke fought to keep the bite out of his voice as he replied, “As if I would be anything else right now?”
Noah shook his head and removed a heavy-duty flashlight from his belt, casting it over the edge. “No ladder down, so we should be safe.”
Almost immediately, everyone formed a line against the drop, many crouching or even lying down on the floor to look at what lay below.
And what a sight it was.
Acid pooled in Zeke’s stomach even before his brain had time to process the grisly scene before them. Naked bodies—humans, for certain, as none of them displayed any visible RONS transformations—hung suspended by their arms, chained to raised poles. Dangled above animal troughs, their ruined bodies were displayed almost exhibition-like, patches of grisly raw flesh scattering their skin like blotches of spilled ink.
Around him, Zeke was distantly aware of the noises the others were making, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the monstrous scene below them. The nearest person—captive? meat slave?—twitched as she became bathed in multiple beams of light. Her eyes flickered open, and she flinched away from the light as if it hurt her. For a fleeting moment, he thought she would not look up at them, that perhaps she was brain-dead.
But then she did.
Recognition shot through her expression as her jaw dropped open.
She began to scream.
At least, she tried to. The woman writhed in her chains, strange, gurgling sounds emanating from her mouth as her face contorted into pure agony. Her raw, throaty cries reduced quickly to animalistic noises.
Aoife murmured a prayer. “What’s wrong with her?”
Blood poured from the woman’s lips, running down her chin: two tandem crimson rivers that produced a harrowing sound as it hit the metal trough.
“Sh-she’s got no tongue,” someone whispered. “Did screaming hurt her mouth?”
Zeke dragged himself away from the edge, turning to Frankie and Noah who’d done the same, their mouths pressed in grim lines. “But… why?”
Multiple hysterical babbles of animated conversation began, soldiers shouting over each other to be heard, despite Lowenna and Noah’s shushing noises. Had the types chosen the tongue as an easy source of flesh? Or were the types aggravated by their screams? Had they cut the tongue from every victim? Surely most wouldn’t have survived the blood loss, even if they hadn’t drowned in their own blood?
Zeke stumbled away to a quiet corner, his mind spinning, his pitiful breakfast threatening to resurface.
A firm arm snaked around his back as he curled into a ball. He looked up, expecting Noah, but found Frankie’s concerned face instead.
“Hold it together. This is almost over,” she said, knocking her helmet against his. Dragging him to his feet, they stumbled back towards the group, with him feeling less than ready.
