Chapter Eight: Nightmares

"What have you designed, O Zeus, to do with me?"

- Oedipus, "Oedipus Rex" by Sophocles

Konrad clattered up the stairs of the attic with a bottle of wine in hand. Spinal watched him from his position as he stood up, swaying slightly.

"Ah, Guten Tag, mein freund!" Konrad greeted, raising his bottle before clamoring over to him.

Chuckling, he studied the skeleton.

"You really are an ugly bastard, you know that?" he said drunkenly.

Spinal roared at him, as though insulted by the Baron's words.

"Ah shut up," Konrad said before arching his neck back to take a long drink from the bottle. Pulling it away, he wiped his mouth sloppily.

"It's not you're fault you're ugly," he slurred. "Why, I'm no Prince Charming myself! Plus, there's another one just like us in the basement, but-but you've got to tell nobody. It's a secret."

He then shushed the skeleton before raising his bottle. "To us ugly bastards!"

Konrad laughed as he took another drink.

"Today I'm celebratin'!" He said. "My show's been green-lit to continue, thanks to you! I owe you a huge thanks."

He leaned forward and kissed the skeleton on the top of its head, then spat.

"Ugh!" He said as he wiped his mouth. "What were you swimming in, shit?! BLECH!"

The aristocrat took another drink to wipe the taste out.

The skeleton struggled violently, shaking the table.

"How long has it been since you were last with a woman?" Konrad asked, causing the skeleton to stop.

He turned to face it.

"Hm?" he grunted. "You know how long it's been for me? Thirty-four years. Girl's name was...Mila Schaeffer. Gorgeous girl. Pale white skin. Short red hair. Wore a blue dress. Lovely girl. She had the manners of a pig and the breath of a goat. She belched loudly. I was always amazed by that, just because you'd never expect something so small and delicate could produce such a sound! It's like if Godzilla had been shrunken down to size and decided to let one rip! But I loved her, in spite of that."

A small smile crept up his features. "I still remember her kiss," he said wistfully.

Nostalgia turned to melancholy.

"After I found out about my condition," he said, "I had to break it off with her. She wouldn't have been happy, seeing me like this. I still remember how upset she was. How she yelled at me for an explanation. How she cried..."

He took a longer drink.

"I wonder if it's better had it been that I never dated her in the first place. The last I heard about her from Jurgen, she became a teacher, got married and had three kids."

He sighed, then took a quick gulp before turning to his companions.

"How about you?" he asked. "Did you have anyone?"

Neither "guest" responded.

"How long has it been since you felt a woman's touch, hm?" Konrad asked. "Have you ever experienced it, I wonder?"

It might have been the drink getting to him, his imagination, or the dim lighting, but for a moment Konrad thought that he saw a look of longing in Spinal's red eyes as it moved its mandible about.

Smiling, he patted the creature's skull.

"Don't worry, mein freund," he said. "Maybe someday we'll find what we're looking for. Here, have a drink."

Konrad poured the bottle of wine over its mouth, watching as it gurgled and reached out thirstily, trying to taste it.

"There you go," he said. "Trink mein freund! Trink!"

Tilting the bottle back up, he watched as Spinal continued to mouth hungrily for it.

"You'll get your turn. Just wait," he said.

"Aw," Spinal grunted in disappointment.

Moving to the shield, Konrad stared down at the tentacled face as it stared back at him.

"Open wide!" He said as he poured.

The moment the wine made contact with the shield, it produced a shimmering glow. Without warning, Spinal roared as he tore himself free from the ropes.

"WHAT THE-"

He was cut off as the skeleton tackled him to the floor.

"GET OFF ME!" He yelled. "GET OFF ME!"

Spinal laughed maniacally as his bony hands grabbed him by the throat, choking him. Konrad violently struggled to wrench the hands loose, then raised his own hands up to his chest, slammed them down into the crook of its arms and head-butted, causing it to stagger off him. Grabbing the bottle, he continued to bash it into the creature's skull over and over until it stopped. Once it ceased moving, Konrad hastily grabbed its body and carried it piece by piece, then tied it quickly back to the table, making sure that every knot was tight and that it was secure. Satisfied, he glanced back to the bottle, then headed back downstairs.

"No more drinks for you!" Konrad said to the shield as he made his way back.

He cringed as Spinal chuckled behind him. Hurrying out the attic, Konrad's heart raced as the laugh built its way up into an awful crescendo that echoed into the night, following him all the way from the long stretch of hallway to his bedroom.

* * *

Konrad stirred in his queens-sized bed.

Shifting into various positions, he tried to make himself more comfortable, but no matter what angle, whether it was on his stomach, back or sides, he couldn't get himself to fall asleep.

Moving to the other side, he snuggled under the covers, satisfied and relieved, his face pressed against the pillow, resting on top of his arms.

It was an hour or so when he was in the midst of dozing off that Konrad became suddenly aware of a presence in the room.

Turning to look over his shoulder, a startled jolt sent him sprawling awake as he caught sight of Spinal by the foot of his bed.

Even though the vast majority of him was concealed in heavy shadow, there was no mistaking the glowing red eyes, the bleached whiteness of bone, the red bandana or that awful shield with the yellow runes and eyes.

It just stood there in front of him unmoving, watching him, staring directly at him.

A shiver worked its way through Konrad's entire body. When he opened his mouth, the only thing he could utter was a frightened moan, his attempt to scream dying at the back of his throat as his eyes bulged and hair pulled taut against his face.

The two stared at each other, their gazes unwavering.

Moving his furiously shaking hand to a lamp beside him, Konrad kept his eyes glued on the skeleton.

Feeling his way along the table, fumbling as he knocked books onto the floor, he stopped the moment he felt the lamp. Pressing the switch, Konrad turned on the light, illuminating his room.

The moment the light came on, Spinal vanished.

Blinking, the aristocrat scanned his bedroom nervously, then got up and checked every corner, behind every piece of furniture in the room and underneath his own bed, even studied the space in front of the footboard where Spinal had stood, looking for some sign indicating his presence, that the little shit had been here.

Nothing.

Konrad let out a shaky sigh, all the muscles in his body loosening as he settled back into his bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he stared in front of him.

Was he going crazy?

Had Spinal actually been in the room with him?

The skeleton could teleport at will, but when Konrad turned on the lights, there was no green flash or light like the other times.

Was it all a dream?

Konrad had made certain that it had been secured to the table - there was no chance of it ever getting out.

'Was there?' Part of him questioned.

"So much for a pleasant night's sleep," he muttered to himself.

Looking to the toppled books on the floor next to him, he reached down and picked up one of them.

"Which one is this?" he wondered. "'Faust' by Goethe. How apropos."

Flipping open the pages, he read it aloud to himself.

"'Part One: Dedication.

Again you show yourselves, you wavering Forms.

Revealed, as you once were, to clouded vision.

Shall I attempt to hold you fast once more?

Heart's willing still to suffer that illusion?

You crowd so near! Well then, you shall endure,

And rouse me, from your mist and cloud's confusion:

My spirit feels so young again: it's shaken

By magic breezes that your breathings waken.'"

* * *

Konrad awoke, groaning as his head pounded and the room spun.

Rubbing his eyes as the book fell to the floor, he massaged his temples as he heard the door creak open.

"Guten Morgen, Herr Baron," Jurgen said as he entered with a tray of food. "Your breakfast is ready."

"Go away," Konrad muttered.

"What's the matter?"

"I have the mother of all headaches and I never want to see food ever again," the aristocrat said.

"Ahh, so you're having a hangover, are you? Well it serves you right," Jurgen admonished.

"Yes, thank you, Jurgen," Konrad dryly said.

"I told you how many times already to lay off the drink?"

"Jurgen, have mercy and lay off, will you?" Konrad said. "I want a cup of coffee."

Setting the tray down onto his lap, the servant obediently poured him a fresh cup.

"What's my schedule for today?" he asked.

"Dr. Gupte wants to speak with you," Jurgen answered.

"Did she say why?"

"She didn't."

"Perhaps she's taken a liking to me."

"Unlikely," the servant replied. "Also, you got a call from Mr. Kellog. He said something about filling in the gap of the production line?"

Konrad nodded in understanding.

"Ahh, of course," he said.

"So you know what he's referring to?"

"Ja, he's talking about the void created by Kilgore," Konrad explained, "so now it falls to me to review the other proposals to see if I can find a suitable replacement if I want to meet the deadline four years from now."

"I take it from your tone that you're not enthusiastic about it?" Jurgen asked.

"Not at all, Jurgen," Konrad. "I've been through them all and they're all shit. One of them looks like a fucking garbage can!"

"Herr Baron!" Jurgen scolded. "Watch your language."

"Sorry," Konrad said.

Looking to the tray, he noticed the glass jar that held the sugar.

"Is that new?" he asked.

"Ja, I had to get a replacement for the other one after it broke," Jurgen said. "It came from down in the village."

"Huh," Konrad grunted. "What about Eagle? Has there been any change?"

The servant shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Herr Baron."

"Damn it," the aristocrat swore. Moving the tray from his lap onto the bed, he slowly stood up. "I'd like to see him."

"Herr Baron-"

"I said I'd like to see him," Konrad repeated. "Please."

Jurgen nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Let me just get you some fresh pants and cloak."

* * *

Eagle lied on the bed before Konrad, his body heavily bandaged with wires protruding out from him, connecting him to an IV drip and an ECG machine that beeped periodically while an oxygen mask hissed.

"Tell me," Konrad said, "what are his chances of waking up?"

"It's not good, Herr Baron," Jurgen said. "Those machines are the only things keeping him alive. That's what the doctors say."

"And there's-there's nothing I can do," Konrad said.

"I'm afraid so."

"Can you give me a moment?"

"As you wish, Herr Baron."

Once Jurgen departed, Konrad sat there, watching and listening as the heart rate monitor continued to blip.

Staring at the unconscious young man, he lowered his head in respect.

"If you can hear me," he said aloud, "I just want to let you know how sorry I am for everything that has happened. I'm sorry for the problems caused by my factories to your people in Idaho. I'm sorry for getting you involved. I'm also sorry that you had to pay for my...carelessness. I didn't know that any of this would have happened."

He inhaled. "I have been so frustrated by efforts to find a cure that I've looked to other sources for possible relief. It was because of me that creature murdered those people at the arena," he confessed. "Also, I had-I had wanted to use your plight for my own selfish reasons. Your brother is "tooat", a healer. Is that the proper term?"

Eagle just lay there.

Konrad sniffed.

"It doesn't matter. I thought that perhaps I could arrange some sort of deal with you and your brother, to teach me about the weyekin and to find some way to rid me of whatever this is," he explained, "but I stopped the moment I realized how wrong it was. I was going to put an end to it, right then and there at the arena, when you showed up."

The aristocrat shifted in his wheelchair.

"I always had a great respect for you," he said. "I just wish that I had expressed that sooner. I wish that there was some way to put things right."

He brushed his hand against his own face.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. But I do thank you for coming to my aid and for saving my life, and because of that, I'll do everything I can to save you."

He faltered.

"However," he said, "if-if this the last time that I see you alive, I want you to know, Eagle, that from this day forward I will strive to become a better person than I was."

Turning the wheelchair around, he rolled to the door.

"Auf Wiedersehen, Eagle."

The Native American gave no response as he left the room.

* * *

Konrad sat at his bed, his cloak and scarf discarded.

"Are you okay, Herr Baron?" Jurgen asked.

The aristocrat shook his head.

"I feel so helpless, Jurgen," he said. "I wish that I could do something."

"You tried everything you could," the servant assured. "There's nothing else you can do. It'll only be a matter of time before his body gives out."

Jurgen held out a cup. "Your coffee, Herr Baron?"

Looking up at him, Konrad gratefully accepted.

Taking a sip, he spat.

"Ugh!" Konrad said in disgust.

"What is it?" Jurgen asked.

"What did you put in my coffee?!"

"Sugar."

"It tastes like salt."

"Ah hell," Jurgen said. "One of the servants must have mixed up the salt with the sugar. I'm so sorry, Herr Baron. Let me go replace that."

The moment the servant uttered those words as he took the tray from him, a flash of inspiration struck Konrad.

"Mein gott," he said quietly.

"What?" Jurgen asked.

"I know of a way to save Eagle!"

"You do?" Jurgen said incredulously. "How?"

Konrad got up, grabbing his cloak and scarf as he went back into his wheelchair, then rolled out the door.

"Where are you going?" Jurgen asked.

"To my office to do some research."

The servant stared confusedly out the doorway, then sighed as he took the tray to the kitchen.

* * *

Konrad nodded as finished reading the online article, jotting some notes down onto paper.

Next to him were various books and stacks of printed paper.

The knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

Jurgen stepped inside.

"Is something wrong, Jurgen?" Konrad asked.

"I just wanted to remind of your appointment with Gupte," he said as he eyed the various books and the huge pile on his desk.

"Ja, ja, I haven't forgotten," Konrad waved away.

"What's all this?"

"ARIA has been helping me locate some scholarly articles from medical journals."

"So you've taken my advice to use her to help with your treatment?" Jurgen said.

"Not for me, Jurgen," Konrad said. "For Eagle."

The servant gave him a puzzled look.

"For Eagle?" he repeated. "How?"

"By giving him a new body."

Jurgen blinked. "Pardon?"

"A brain transplant, Jurgen," Konrad said.

"Don't be ridiculous, Herr Baron," Jurgen replied.

"I'm not!"

"Herr Baron, brain transplants aren't possible!"

"Not yet, Jurgen," Konrad said. "Just follow me on this: what if we were to create the first ever cyborg? An entirely synthetic body, but with a human brain?"

"And what do you hope to do, use Eagle as a test subject for this madness?"

"Jurgen, the only thing keeping him alive are those machines! The only way to save his life is to transplant his brain into a better body."

"This is insane," Jurgen said.

"Jurgen, he'll die without it!"

"Then maybe it would be better if he had!"

"Oh, so now you're just going to give up on him, are you?! You'd rather to just let him die in this house?!"

"Don't act so sanctimonious with me, Herr Baron," Jurgen spoke sternly. "You don't think I know what you're doing? This isn't for his benefit, it's for yourself."

"Nein," Konrad denied.

"You hope to use that boy even at his deathbed for your own selfish purposes!" Jurgen said.

"No! It's not like that!"

"The fact is, Herr Baron, is that you don't give a shit about him. He's just another opportunity for you."

Konrad exhaled.

"I'd be lying if I said that I didn't find the prospect of a new body attractive or that I had never considered it for myself when it occurred to me," he admitted. "That said, there are too many variables and uncertainties with such a process. There's no guarantee that I'd even be able to survive it. There's no guarantee that when I wake up after the surgery that I'd still be the same person, that my mind would carry over into my new body. For all I know, opening myself up to..."cyberization", could make my mind open for whoever to rewire, for hacking. I can imagine that David would be thrilled with such an opportunity. Just hack into my head and make me do or say something that will make me look stupid or compromise my position as Chairman. Hell, he wouldn't have to do anything at all. Things could happen on the surgery table. A stupid surgeon who doesn't know what they're doing is one of many hazards along with a good doctor that knows what they're doing but who has been paid to "accidentally" botch up the procedure. Mistakes, deliberate or otherwise, can happen on the surgeon's table. I considered all that."

He sighed.

"I'm not a saint, Jurgen, nor did I claim to be morally superior. I'm fallible, and I'm painfully aware of it. But, believe me when I say that this isn't about me. I'm trying to do what is right."

"The right thing to do, Herr Baron," Jurgen said, "is to tell his brother and let him take care of Eagle, let him know what has happened."

"Jurgen, we've already been through this."

"Herr Baron, the longer you keep it from him, the worse it will get."

Konrad chuckled. "Worse?" He repeated. "How could it possibly get any worse? How is he worse than everything else around here? Let's do a tally, shall we? I'm a four-hundred-pound werewolf with argyria. My arena was hijacked by a demonic skeleton that left a trail of bodies in its wake and promptly destroyed the building. The artifact connected to it is indestructible, leaving me stuck with the bloody thing. I have a psychopath locked away in the basement who's become even more dangerous-"

"'Psychopath'? What are you talking about?" Jurgen asked confusedly.

"That man from the toolshed. Ferris."

Jurgen's face looked blankly at him, absorbing his words, his brows furrowing. "...What happened to him?"

Konrad paused. "Hadn't Dieter told you?"

"No," the servant said.

Before he could respond, Konrad's cellphone conveniently went off.

Taking it out from his pocket, he raised it up to his ear. "Hallo?"

"Ah, there you are," a woman's voice said on the line.

It was Gupte.

"I was just calling to see if you were still coming to my office? You're late," she said.

Konrad shivered at the flat iciness in her tone.

"Ja, I'm sorry, Herr Doctor," he said. "I had a bit of an emergency. I'll be down shortly."

She didn't say anything as she hung up.

Hanging up his own phone, he looked up at Jurgen.

"I'm late for my appointment with Gupte," he said. "We'll talk about this later."

"Very well," the servant said as he wheeled him out of his office.

* * *

Once they arrived in the basement, Jurgen wheeled Konrad to Gupte's office. As they passed by the empty dungeon cell, the latter cast a nervous glance at it, then looked straight back.

"I hate being down here," Konrad said quietly.

"I know you do," Jurgen replied.

"Why the hell didn't I have the contractors build the lab on the upper levels?" he muttered to himself.

"You're a creature of comfort, Herr Baron," the servant answered. "Would you prefer residing down here while they worked up there?"

"I was being rhetorical."

Jurgen knocked on the door.

"Come in," Gupte said from inside.

Opening the door, the servant rolled his ward inside, carefully positioning him close to Gupte's desk while he closed the door behind him.

"How are you feeling?" Gupte asked.

"A little sore, but better," Konrad said. "Is it about my blood tests?"

"Ja," she answered.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

The doctor took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Are the results that bad?" Jurgen asked.

"There weren't any, unfortunately."

"I don't understand," he said.

"I'm afraid that I'm going to need to take more blood samples from you, Herr Baron," she said. "An incident had occurred."

Konrad tilted his head curiously. "Why? What happened?"

"It's a bit embarrassing to say, really, but, um..." she paused, inhaled deeply then sighed. "They were eaten."

"Eaten?!" Konrad said in surprise. "What do you mean "eaten"? What, some moron mistook my samples for ketchup or something?"

"Nein, nein," Gupte waved, "it's nothing at all like that. One of the animal handlers carelessly forgot to properly lock one of the cages, which in turn allowed a king cobra to escape free."

"A king cobra!" Jurgen exclaimed.

"Ja, but it's contained now," she assured.

"Good heavens, what is that doing here?!"

"It's not as strange as you make it out to be," Gupte said. "Snake venom contains biologically active ingredients that are useful for treating diseases. Viper venom, for example, is used for anticoagulant drugs, while crotoxin, proteins derived from the South American rattlesnake, are used in treatments for some forms of cancer. Cobra venom, though, is invaluable due to their containing a protein unique to them called ohanin, which is a highly potent painkiller twenty times more powerful than morphine."

"And this snake ate the samples?" Jurgen said.

"I'm afraid so," she replied.

Konrad gave her a doubtful expression. "Forgive me, Herr Doctor," he said, "but I smell bullshit. While I don't claim to be an animal expert by any means, I am pretty certain that snakes don't drink blood."

"They don't," Gupte replied. "They do, however, eat mice, especially ones that had been injected with said-samples for study."

The aristocrat grimaced at the glare she gave him.

"Point taken," he conceded.

She then stood up from her desk.

"Now, if you will follow me, I will need to-"

She was cut off as a chorus of startled screams echoed in the basement.

"What the hell?" Gupte said.

Jurgen rolled Konrad after her as they stepped outside her office. Outside, a crowd of researchers were all clustered together in front of a door, murmuring to themselves.

"What's going on?" Gupte demanded.

"One of the cobra cages broke!" someone said.

"Shit," she swore. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, ma'am, but one of the snakes is acting all funny. It ate the other five."

Her lips formed a tight line.

"Let me through," she said as she pushed through the crowd. "I want to see."

Konrad twisted in his seat, trying to see around the group.

"Mein gott," Gupte gasped. "It's gotten bigger!"

"Ja!"

The aristocrat eyed the group in annoyance.

"Can everyone let me through, please? I want to see what is going on!"

People backed off as he pushed through toward the door. Opening it slowly, Konrad peered through the small crack.

"What the?"

Lying on the floor with the shattered glass was an enormous mass that was as long and as thick as a telephone pole, its form swollen and a pasty white. Nearby, animals were going berserk in their cages, with dogs barking loudly and furiously at the thick mound that lied on the floor. Two animal handlers approached the still creature, one of them carrying a large bag while the other held some sort of hook or instrument that's used for handling snakes. One of them stepped on a piece of glass, causing it to it suddenly launch itself straight up into the air, startling everyone, before collapsing back onto the ground again.

"What is going on with its skin?" Jurgen asked. "Is it dying?"

"Look!" A researcher pointed.

The serpent swayed its tail from side to side weakly, then lifted it up and slammed it back to the floor. Konrad watched as its skin rippled, all of it accompanied by grotesque sounds of pops and crunches.

"What is happening to it?" Konrad asked.

Nobody answered. Everyone was too caught up and fascinated by the thing as a shriveled up arm suddenly ripped free beneath the serpent's hood, spilling blood, fluid and dead skin aside. The color started to change, becoming more of a fleshy pink hue, giving the creature a vaguely fetal appearance as it pushed itself clumsily along the ground.

"It's mutating!" Gupte said in wonder.

Konrad took out his cellphone. Dialing the number, he raised it to his ear.

"Dieter, I have a situation," he said.

"What's going on?" the bodyguard asked.

"I'm in the basement next to the dungeon. Get your ass down here immediately!"

Hanging up, he put the cellphone away, watching as the creature crawled along the ground like some sort of alligator, dragging and brushing itself against cabinets and tables, knocking over beakers, microscopes and other equipment. Looking at its strange, googly-eyed head, it gave no indication of having intelligence. If anything, the creature didn't seem to be even aware or registering that it was moving at all as it flailed its arms about in all directions. Rolling over onto its back, it pitifully waved its hands in the air before rolling back indelicately onto its belly.

"BARON! BARON? WHERE ARE YOU?" Dieter called out.

"OVER HERE, DIETER!" Konrad called back.

Pushing through the crowd, Dieter stepped toward him before stopping at the door with Michael and Roger.

"What the fuck?!" Dieter said. "Where the fuck did that thing come from?!"

"We'll worry about it later," Konrad said. "Right now I want you three to get in there and kill it."

"WHAT?!" Roger gaped.

"Absolutely not, Herr Baron!" Gupte protested. "The creature is much more valuable alive."

"Gupte, have you gone mad?! Do you see how big that thing is?! Where the hell are we going to put it?!"

"Why, the dungeon, of course."

He froze. "The dungeon," he repeated.

"Yes," Gupte replied. "Since it's not being used, it'll be suitable for now."

He shook his head in disapproval. "Fine," he said, then looked up at Dieter. "Get in there and help those men catch that thing."

"I am NOT going in there," Michael said resolutely. "Fuck that!"

"Michael, get in there. Right. Now."

"Fuck off, you go in there!"

"This isn't the time for this!"

"I'm scared of snakes!"

Dieter nodded. "He can stay here, Baron," the bodyguard said. "Roger and I will handle it."

He said something under his breath that Konrad didn't catch as he and his associate pushed the door open and stepped inside.

One of the animal handlers waved them away.

"The hell are you doing?! Get back!" He said in English.

"The Baron wanted us to help," Dieter said.

The handler frowned. "We need to restrain the creature," he said.

"How do we do that?" Roger asked.

"When I count to three," the handler said as he put his tool aside on a table and took off his belt, "we're all going to pounce on it at the same time. I'm going to muzzle its mouth, but I need someone to put a hood or a blindfold over its head so that it can't see."

"Oh God," Roger groaned.

"Wait, why do we have to pounce on this thing?! Why not just tranquilize the fucker?!"

"Reptiles have slower metabolisms than mammals do," the handler explained. "The dosage level and type of sedative used has to be extremely precise, otherwise we'll end up killing it. This is further complicated by species and individual differences in response to commonly used anesthetic and analgesic agents."

"Well why not freeze it?"

"I wouldn't recommend that at all. Again-"

"It will kill it," Dieter finished. "Okay, okay."

Huffing, he lowered himself, eying the freakish creature as it lay there.

"On three," the handler said.

Konrad watched as Dieter braced himself.

"One."

Roger wiped sweat off from his forehead.

"Two."

"As soon as this is over, Baron," Dieter called back, "I'm billing you for dry-cleaning!"

"Noted," Konrad said.

"Three!"

The four men rushed over and piled themselves on top of the creature before it had a chance to respond.

"Jesus this thing stinks!" Dieter groaned.

"KEEP HOLDING IT DOWN!" The handler yelled as he muzzled its jaws shut.

Konrad watched as the men struggled to maintain their grip and weight on the damn thing as it bucked underneath them. Once the blindfold was on, the handler looked to his compatriots.

"Okay," he said, catching his breath. "We got it."

"Ah, wonderful!" Gupte called. "Now I'm going to need it transported over to the dungeon cell next door."

"The dungeon! But-"

"Just do it," Konrad said. "It will be temporary."

Frowning, the handler looked to the other men.

"Alright, on three, we're gonna carry this big sucker out, okay? One, two, three, LIFT!"

Grunting with exertion, the four men struggled as the creature wriggled in their grip.

"We're going to need some more help please!"

"OW!" Roger yelled.

"ROGER, ARE YOU OKAY?!" Konrad yelled.

"Yeah, the damn thing scratched me," the bodyguard replied as other researchers came in to assist.

It took a total of twelve men and women to move the animal over to the cell. Konrad gagged and covered up his nose as the creature passed by him. It was an awful smell, a strong musky odor like a rotting animal carcass combined with something undefinable. Jurgen stared at the thing, unbothered by the smell. Michael had put as much distance as possible between himself and the creature, refusing to even look at it. Konrad watched as they placed it down inside and as the handler removed the blindfold.

"Can someone get me my hook, please?" the handler asked.

Dieter went back to the lab and brought it to him. Taking hold of it, the handler quickly got up. The creature just lay there. Backing away, Konrad watched as the handler used his hook to peel off the muzzle. Once it was off, he withdrew it, then closed the door and locked it.

The tenseness that Konrad felt was gone.

"Thank god that's over and done with," Jurgen said.

"So what are you going to do with it, Herr Doctor?" Konrad asked.

"I'll need to run some tests on it," Gupte said. "It'll take a while to thoroughly examine it."

"What about my blood tests?"

"We'll reschedule for another time, Herr Baron."

As Dieter and Roger approached him, Konrad plugged his nose while Michael vomited.

"Aw Michael, for fuck's sake!" The former swore.

"I'm sorry!" Michael said weakly.

Konrad took notice of Roger's bleeding hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The bodyguard waved it off. "Yeah, it's just a scratch," he replied.

"Wash it off and get it bandaged," Konrad said.

"It's not a big deal," Roger insisted.

"Just humor me," Konrad said.

Shrugging, Roger approached the doctor, who then took him to the examination room.

"You owe me, Baron," Dieter said angrily. "Big time!"

"Believe me, Dieter, I know," Konrad replied. "Get a shower, you smell."

The bodyguard nodded, then left without saying another word.

Konrad felt eyes baring down on him, then turned to look up at Jurgen behind him.

"Well don't look at me! I didn't do this!"

* * *

Rolling through the hallway, Konrad heard a noise in one of the rooms. It wasn't the skeleton, thank god. Wheeling himself into his private den, the aristocrat found Dieter, Michael and Roger seated on one of the couches, watching something on one of their cellphones, killing themselves with laughter. Closing the door behind him, Konrad watched the bodyguards curiously.

"What are you watching?" he asked, drawing their attention.

"People made some gifs from your tournament," Dieter chuckled.

Turning his cellphone in his direction, Konrad scowled as the naked man from the tournament did a little dance while flapping his arms wildly, all of it done to the beat of dubstep.

He sighed. "Should have guessed," he replied. "Can you turn that shit off please?"

"You hate dubstep, Baron?" Dieter asked.

"Loathe it."

"Oh come on! It's not that bad!"

"Not that bad? It sounds like a computer having dysentery! Turn it off."

Shrugging, the bodyguard obeyed.

"By the way, Baron," Dieter said seriously, "there's footage that you need to see here."

"Why? What is it?"

"There's some new never-before-seen footage from the show."

Puzzled, Konrad moved toward the trio and took Dieter's cellphone.

"Just click the video," Roger said.

Pressing the play button, Konrad stared at the screen, then turned away the moment he saw the animated obscenity being displayed.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" He said.

Dieter and the others laughed as he tossed the cellphone back to them.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people?!" Konrad growled.

"Apparently some people on the Internet thought you and Spinal make a cute couple," Dieter said between breaths.

"I love the comment here," Roger laughed. "'Dog gets his bone!'"

Upon hearing that, the trio howled even louder, their eyes watering from laughing so hard.

"Very funny!" Konrad said.

It was amazing how the Internet can turn grown men into little children.

Wiping his eyes, Dieter took a series of slow breaths. "Ah Christ," he said.

"I am so glad that I hired you three," Konrad dryly commented.

"Sorry, Baron. Just couldn't resist," Dieter said. "I just wanted to see your reaction."

"Well now you saw it," Konrad stated, unimpressed. "Was there anything else about the tournament?"

The bodyguards collected themselves.

"A couple of videos from "Last Week Tonight with John Oliver", The "Tonight Show" and "Saturday Night Live"," Michael said. "Also there's an interview with Jesse Ventura. Apparently he had fled the program when Carnegie started to rot."

"Anything else?"

"Meh, not much," Dieter said. "However, it seems that women online have taken a fancy to you, Baron."

"I'm not falling for it, Dieter."

"I'm serious!" He insisted. "You'd be surprised some of the Twitter, Tumblr and Facebook posts out there!"

"Just what I need, to be the object of lustful thoughts by freaks online," he grumbled. "Now, if you're all done having fun at my expense, I'd like to be alone here. I want to converse in private with the Board members on my laptop."

The bodyguards nodded and got up.

Michael paused though.

"Herr Baron," he said slowly, "we haven't offended you, have we?"

"Nein," Konrad said. "I just want to be alone when I have my meeting. Go."

He watched as Michael disappeared, following Roger and Dieter out the door, then set up his laptop after it had closed behind them. Once everything was ready, the monitor flickered, showing David and the Board members on the screen.

"Guten Tag, everyone!" Konrad greeted.

"Hello, Mr. Chairman," the figures replied onscreen.

"I'm glad to see everyone here," the aristocrat said.

"You said that there was something to discuss," David reminded.

"Ja," Konrad said. He opened his mouth to elaborate, but then paused.

"Mr. Chairman?" David called out.

"Forgive me, but has everyone turned off their cellphones and taken security precautions for this channel?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Everything is in order."

"Good," Konrad said as he inserted a memory key into his laptop. "After careful consideration of the various proposals submitted to me, I'm afraid that none were sufficient enough to replace the Kilgore heavy assault android."

This caused a series of murmurs amongst the Board members.

"However," he continued, "despite this setback, I wish to put forward an alternative project. One that will revolutionize military technology."

Konrad then brought up his email and typed in the addresses of everyone present, then attached the file from his USB.

"Here is the file," he said before pressing "Send", then waited.

The aristocrat watched the screen as David and the others typed on their computers, then clicked on the attached file.

"Project..."Fulgore"?" the former read, puzzled by the title.

"Ja."

"It sounds pretty violent."

Konrad stared at the screen. "Violent?"

"Yes."

"David, I'm surprised by you. Have you completely forgotten your Latin?"

David frowned. "I never possessed the aptitude for language in the same way you had, Konrad. Latin especially," he conceded. "Could you enlighten us on its significance and meaning?"

"'Fulgore' is the ablative form for 'fulgor', meaning 'lightning', 'brightness', 'flash', 'glitter', 'gleam' or 'splendor.' It is also part of the name of a Roman goddess, Fulgora, who served as Jupiter's personal shield maiden and armorer, supplying him with his thunderbolts."

David nodded half interestedly. "Well, that is all very interesting," he replied. "And what pray tell is Project Fulgore?"

"To put it simply, David," Konrad explained, "it's a stepping stone. Imagine for a moment, ladies and gentlemen, that you all have a debilitating illness or condition. You can barely move, or you're in a coma, and your chances of recovery are very slim. What if, ladies and gentlemen, there was a way to escape such a horrible fate?"

"How?" a woman asked, intrigued.

"By building a mechanical body."

David scowled. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"Not at all, David," Konrad replied.

"Mr. Chairman, this suggestion is ridiculous."

"Is it?" Konrad queried. "Look around you, David. We're all familiar with the restorative technologies such as artificial limbs, pacemakers, artificial hearts, 3D printed bones, organs and bionic implants. Also, how can we forget about our exoskeletons, BCIs, BBIs, or the cyborg tissues developed at Harvard? Have you also forgotten about some of the remote control animals by our friends at DARPA?"

"Yes, I'm aware of all that," David said, "but what you're suggesting goes beyond mere limb replacement or controlling some rodent or insect - you're suggesting a brain transplant, for heaven's sake! A person cannot survive such a process, nor do we have the means available for such a thing!"

"Precisely, which is why I said that Project Fulgore is merely a stepping stone to that eventuality," Konrad said. "David, I am not looking to create a man with a machine for a body, I am talking about a machine with a human brain."

The bald man shook his head. "I'm afraid that I don't quite follow."

"Our current android models, while effective, are hackable," Konrad explained. "A machine that utilizes the human brain for storing information, however, can counter that particular problem since the brain itself is one of nature's most advanced supercomputers, impossible to hack from an outside source."

"And hypothetically impossible to control, wouldn't it?" David countered.

"Not if we have the right equipment, which we most certainly do."

"And suppose that we do follow through on this mad scheme of yours, Mr. Chairman," David said slowly, "there's still the issue of Ethics Committees and willing participants. I doubt that anyone would be eager to sign up for something that could potentially kill them, nor do I think that the former would sign this off. This entire thing reeks of potential lawsuits."

"Really, David, you make it sound like I am Dr. Frankenstein or something!" Konrad exclaimed. "If you look at the proposal itself carefully, you will note that it wouldn't involve live participants. Rather, the program will be reaching out through the proper channels involved with organ donation in the European Union such as Spain, Austria and Belgium along with the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center."

"I don't feel comfortable with this," David said as he shook his head.

"Why? When a person dies, they don't possess the same rights as they do in life, David - they are relegated to being property. Organ donation is perfectly legal, provided that the source is reputable, that the organ in question hasn't been attained through dubious means and that consent has been given before its removal."

"And how do you know this will work?"

"It's all there, David," Konrad said. "I've also included financial figures, estimates, scholarly articles etc."

"The estimates make me a bit concerned, Mr. Chairman," Sackett said. "What you're proposing is extremely expensive, even more than the Kilgore project."

"Ja, I'm quite aware of that, but as I have noted the projections for profit are high."

"I still think it is too risky," David said uncertainly.

Konrad was starting to feel nervous.

"There's more," he said suddenly. "My men and I have stumbled upon something. A potential new energy source."

People murmured on the screen.

"Really?" David said curiously. "Do tell."

The aristocrat hesitated for a moment.

"...It-it was discovered a few days ago by accident," Konrad said. "Research is being done and results look promising. Very promising."

"Well," the bald man said with a smile, "that is interesting."

"I don't see any information about it here," one of the Board members noted.

"A report will be submitted in due time for your inspection," Konrad promised. "If the energy is viable, we can use it to power Project Fulgore. Like I said, David, Project Fulgore is a stepping stone in more than enough ways for the company."

"Is it clean? This energy you speak of?"

"We're still running tests."

"If it is, this could be just the thing we need," David said. "After all, there is pressure from environmental groups and the public for our products to be more eco-friendly. The Board members and I will take a look at your proposal, but we will need some time to consider it. Also, we would like to be updated on your progress whenever possible."

"Of course."

"I cannot guarantee its acceptance, Mr. Chairman, but we will carefully consider it," David said.

"That is all I ask for," Konrad said.

"We'll be in touch. And for god's sake, Mr. Chairman, get your webcam fixed."

Once they disappeared from the screen, Konrad turned off his laptop and nervously ran his hand along his chin.

* * *

Konrad sat at the dining room table, eating his plate of salmon and vegetables.

"So how did your meeting with Mr. Kellog go?" Jurgen asked.

"Relatively well," he replied. "David said that he and the other Board members will take a look at my proposal and consider it."

"Doesn't sound like they're convinced," the servant said.

"Nein," Konrad agreed. "However, there may be a slight chance that it will be approved. I let it slip about there being a possible new energy source."

"What energy source?" Jurgen said in puzzlement. "You made no indication of there being such."

"Dieter made an interesting point about how our Ghost skeleton in the attic seems to utilize some sort of energy and had suggested it be studied and possibly harnessed."

"Is it really a good idea, Herr Baron?" the servant said worriedly. "We don't know a thing about what we're dealing with here. For heaven's sake, what if that energy ends up creating more like it?"

"I thought about that," Konrad said, "which is why we need to study it, otherwise we ourselves could be at risk."

"And suppose that this energy isn't viable at all, Herr Baron," Jurgen said. "What then?"

"Then hopefully Project Cinder will prove to be a better option."

The servant stared at him.

"I know you disapprove, Jurgen, but I need something! I promised to have a report on it."

"Then undo that promise."

"Jurgen-"

"No, don't "Jurgen" me, Herr Baron!" the servant snapped. "This whole thing is absolutely repulsive. You have ruined a man beyond repair and recognition, you hope to experiment on another, and now you hope to parasitize off that creature?! Off of Ferris?!"

"Well what else do you expect me to do, Jurgen?!" Konrad barked back. "I am stuck with them! Spinal is indestructible, impervious to anything and everything. That piece of shit Ferris has now become a walking sun and possibly harbors radioactive materials in his body, and Eagle is a vegetable. Jurgen, I'm trying my damnedest to do what is right, but they are going to cost money. Even if I just let them sit there and do nothing with them, it's going to cost me money just to contain them. Spinal has very nearly ruined me, and I cannot imagine the lives Ferris must have ruined himself. I'm not like them, Jurgen. I want to save that boy's life. If I have to sacrifice two evil bastards for an innocent, then so be it."

Jurgen's shoulders sagged.

"Herr Baron," he said, "I'm afraid for you. Ever since the tournament, ever since Spinal showed up, it feels like there is something hanging in the air. I don't like it. I'm worried that its presence might be influencing what's happening around us. Can't you feel it?"

Konrad nervously shifted in his seat.

"You do, don't you? Herr Baron, I'm worried that little by little that thing is getting inside your head and is trying to destroy you. I implore you, Herr Baron, please, stop this while you still have your soul and while there is still time!"

The dining room was quiet as Jurgen went to clean the dishes.

"If only if it were that easy," Konrad said aloud.

* * *

"Do you believe in God?"

The question took Dieter by surprise.

"What brought this about?" he asked.

Konrad sat close to the hearth, holding his glass of wine. "Just curious," he asked. "Do you?"

The bodyguard exhaled his cigarette, dumping the ashes from its tip into the hearth.

"Nope," he replied without hesitation.

"Why?"

Dieter watched the blazing fire. "Just don't," he said.

"Do you believe in Heaven, Hell, damnation or destiny?"

"Nope, nope, nope and nope," Dieter answered quickly before flicking the cigarette into the inferno. "You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

"Just reflecting," Konrad said. He sighed. "Lawrence had decided to become a priest."

"Heh," Dieter smirked. "Well, good luck to him. He's gonna need it."

He turned to face the Baron.

"Even with that creature hanging around," Konrad said, "you never paused to think about the possibility of such things?"

Dieter nodded, clicking his tongue. "Ahh, I get it. You're spooked."

The aristocrat nodded.

"The way I figure it, Baron," Dieter said, "life is full of little mysteries and miracles. Our skeleton is no exception. But, with a little investigation, I'm sure you'll find a rational explanation for everything."

"The problem with that, Dieter, is that there is nothing rational whatsoever about it, though," Konrad said. "Skeletons can't just do the things that thing can on their own."

Dieter shrugged.

"Suppose that you die," Konrad said, "and you arrive at the gates of Heaven, and there you meet God face to face. What do you think he would say to you?"

It took a couple of minutes for a response.

"'Really? Midgets?'"

Konrad trembled furiously, trying very hard not to smile.

"Th-that's not funny," he said, trying desperately to refrain from laughing.

"Bullshit it isn't!" Dieter chuckled.

"I'm serious, Dieter," Konrad said. "What would you do if everything like that was real?"

"Well, if there was a God," the bodyguard said, "I wouldn't exactly feel comfortable knowing that I'm constantly being watched. I'd especially find it bothersome when doing lewd acts in the bedroom."

Konrad shuddered. "That was too much information," he replied. "But honestly, what would you say if you encountered the very thing that you denied for so long?"

Dieter shrugged. "'Whoops! My bad!'" He answered.

The aristocrat shook his head wearily at him.

"You have the soul of an amoeba," he said.

"Why thank you!" Dieter said, smiling. "What about you?"

Konrad looked at him uncertainly. "I don't know," he said. "To a certain extent I am getting a sense of...providence. Like events have been carefully prearranged for everything to fall into place."

"For what purpose?" Dieter asked.

He frowned, then took a sip from his glass.

"I don't know," he admitted.

He then looked up at him.

"Dieter, I want you to listen carefully to me," he said lowly.

"What do you need, Baron?"

"Run."

The bodyguard jerked his head back, startled. "Sorry?"

"I feel like there are things closing in on this household and it'll be only a matter of time before it finally catches up," Konrad said. "I want you, Jurgen and everyone to get out of here as quickly as possible. Get out while you still can, never look back and RUN!"

Dieter gave him a long pitying look.

"I think you've had about enough of that drink, Baron," he said as he took away Konrad's glass. "You don't have to worry about any ghosts or goblins, you've got me. Trust me, I'm a professional ass-kicker. Things are going to be okay. I'll just wheel you to your room."

The aristocrat struggled to say something, to say anything, but stopped when it became clear that Dieter wasn't going to take him seriously.

'What's the use?' he thought bitterly.

* * *

Konrad sat up from his bed and stretched his stiff muscles, massaging his temples.

"Never again!" He swore.

After he took an aspirin, had his coffee, a shower and got dressed, he rolled out into the hallway in his wheelchair, where he was met by both Dieter and Roger.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, Baron," Dieter greeted.

"Good morning, Herr Baron," Roger said.

Konrad stared at him.

"Are you alright, Roger? You look rather pale," he said.

The bodyguard shivered.

"Ja, I don't feel too well, Herr Baron," he admitted.

"Maybe you should get checked out by Gupte," Konrad suggested.

"Nah, I'm probably coming down with a cold."

"Would you like some time off?"

"Nein, nein," Roger protested. "I'm not that sick."

The aristocrat studied him for a moment, then nodded.

"Alright, if you insist," he said, then looked around. "Where is Michael?"

Both bodyguards shook their heads.

"Neither of us have seen him," Dieter replied.

Konrad felt a slight churn in his stomach. Something was wrong.

"Did either of you check his room?"

"We actually were just about to, Herr Baron," Roger said.

"I'm coming with you."

* * *

Dieter knocked loudly on the door.

"Michael, are you okay in there, buddy?" he called.

No answer came.

The bodyguard knocked again. "Hello?"

"Try calling his cellphone," Konrad said.

Taking out his phone, Dieter dialed Michael's number and waited as it rang. After a few minutes, he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said.

"What's going on?"

Konrad looked behind him to see Jurgen. "Have you seen Michael?"

"Nein," the servant answered. "What is this all about?"

"We're trying to find out where he is," Konrad answered. "Could you open the door to his room, please?"

Dieter frowned. "I don't think we should," he said. "For all we know the guy just overslept."

"Then why won't he answer? Michael doesn't drink, and he's definitely no party animal. Jurgen, open the door to his room."

Jurgen shook his head. "Herr Baron-"

"Just indulge me, please."

The servant relented, then reached into his coat and took out a set of keys. Once he finished unlocking the door to Michael's room, he pushed it open. Inside, the room was dark. Flicking on a nearby light switch, Konrad stared open-mouthed at its state.

"What the fuck?" Dieter breathed.

Michael was usually an organized and tidy man, one who preferred to keep his room in immaculate condition. To see the disaster that it had become was astonishing and unnervingly out of character. Various pieces of furniture were tossed aside, with wallpapers, mattress, blankets and pillows shredded, with the latter revealing their stuffing. The mirror was smashed and there was writing along the walls, all of it in blood. Sitting in the center of the room in his pyjamas, humming to himself and trembling furiously was Michael, who scrawled something nervously on the floor.

"Michael?" Konrad said in disbelief.

Hearing his name, the bodyguard looked up from what he was doing and looked straight at him, his eyes glassy.

"Jesus Christ," Dieter swore.

"Michael, what happened?" Konrad asked.

"He-he came to see me in the middle of the night," Michael croaked.

"Who?"

"The-the skeleton! I just saw him standing there by the foot of the bed!"

"Michael, buddy, it's just a dream," Dieter assured.

"N-n-n-n-no, no it wasn't!" Michael said, shaking his head, his whole body jittery. "I saw him, and then he just disappeared. I can still hear him laughing. He-he-he-he was on the roof! I heard him walking around up there, laughing! I even-I even heard him in the walls. He's in the walls! Can you hear him?"

He cast his eyes around wildly.

"Shhh," he shushed.

"Call an ambulance," Konrad said to Dieter.

As the bodyguard got out his phone, Michael raised up a piece of broken glass to his throat.

"MICHAEL DON'T!" Konrad yelled.

He watched as the bodyguard slit his jugular open, spilling red fluid onto the floor.

"HOLY SHIT!" Dieter yelled as he ran to his side, putting his hands over the gushing wound as Michael fell back gurgling.

Konrad hastily took out his own cellphone and scrolled through until he found Gupte's number.

"He's dead."

His hand froze over the number.

"Dead?" he repeated.

Dieter nodded.

Konrad lowered his head down respectfully at the fallen bodyguard, then crossed himself.

"May you find peace in the next life, Michael," he said lowly.

"I'll call the police, Baron," Dieter said. "Get out of here."

"But-"

"Now, Baron."

Giving him a nod, he wheeled himself back out through the door. Jurgen stepped outside with him, staring out over the railing.

"I'm sorry about Michael," the servant said.

"So am I," Konrad replied.

"What are you going to do?"

The Baron pondered quietly for a moment before answering. Finally, he exhaled, "Once the police finished with their inquiries, I want Gupte and Rogers to come up and analyze that little shit in the attic. The sooner we figure it out what it is, the faster we can find a way of destroying it and/or getting rid of it."

"But you yourself said that that the creature is indestructible," Jurgen pointed out.

"I had, but we have science and technology on our side, Jurgen, something that Kan-Ra does not have access to. If he couldn't figure out what it is or how to destroy it, then we will."