Post by Altus on Dec 12, 2016 3:47:46 GMT -6
It all started with a letter.
"Donald
I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you any more.
My father is back in town and he's asked me to join his clinic.
Please give Kinks my regards.
Thank you
-Meryl Feelgood"
Yorke perused it multiple times and idly wafted a breeze across his face as he considered what the letter was telling him. There was the obvious, that Meryl was leaving her post as a mortician at the NYPD, but he couldn't but help shake the feeling there was something more there. He sat at his desk, the sun gently setting behind him and casting his office in a burning orange light while he pondered... and pondered...
--
Meryl stared blankly at the screens in front of her, picking at her nails through the rubber gloves she habitually wore, and listening to the muted screams echoing through the hallways of the building. She mustn't show fear. She knew that she mustn't. Emotions were not to be allowed, they must be constrained and neutered, it was the only way to ensure that they could assess and analyse each subject correctly. Meryl didn't want to watch the experiments, but she had little choice. There was a hiss of an automatic door sliding open and the thud of footsteps as the cold presence of her father washed over Meryl.
"One of the subjects is close to expiring," he intoned, "the child in Room D. You will repair them."
Meryl's hands clenched together as she tried not to shiver at the icy feeling growing behind her.
"Yes, father."
Warmth gradually returned to the air around her as the man who called himself her father left the room. Meryl breathed deeply, trying to steady her heart rate and willing the hot prickle of tears at her eyelids into submission. She must learn to accept this; this was her life now. She got up and left to head to Room D...
--
"Why sign her last name?" Yorke finally asked out loud. It was unusual, Meryl wasn't overly fond of her family name and rarely used it even in more formal settings (which Yorke had noticed multiple times but never commented on) and it was that which finally caused him to cave in on something he'd long resisted. He actually looked up her family on the internet. It felt like betrayal, like he'd given up and was now pitifully using the internet of all things to research. He may have felt like a rank amateur but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to help Meryl. It didn't take very long to find an odd post in a forum about conspiracy theories, alien abduction, ancient civilisations in pillars and the like for him to find what he was looking for. It was surreal, exceptionally unlikely and bordering on the impossible. Yorke had already sent an e-mail to Kinks to meet him at the place he knew they had to be.
--
Amidst the neon lights of the theme park, with Kinks doggedly following at his heels, Yorke began to recite what he had learned.
"There's an urban legend about a roaming medical center cum haunted house that roams the United States searching for people possessed by ghosts. Some say the clinic is purely a show, a bunch of special effects that show people emerging from machines or causing items to spin about the room. But those who say they can SEE the ghosts... they always vanish before the end of the tour. The missing people have never been found. Now, what makes this so interesting for me is the name of this haunted house. Feelgood Inc. Co-incidences are natural events but for the clinic to have been sighted in town at the same time Meryl leaves to be with her father. I doubt that very much."
"Is Meryl in trouble?" Kinks asked, a frown of concern on his face.
Yorke blinked at the question, "Oh. Probably, yes," he replied with a wave of his hand. The two of them slid between a shooting gallery and corn dog stand to stand before the false fronted haunted house. A clear hospital aesthetic adorned the wall that faced them, grey squares with red lit windows and a large red cross with a dripping blood aesthetic. The words "Feel Good Inc" were written in glowing green letters above the door and occasionally flickered as a scream emitted. Yorke took a moment to analyse the timings. Either they had a very LONG track of fake screams. Or the flickering was intended to mask that the screams were indeed quite genuine.
The detective smiled slightly to himself.
"We should wait here a moment, Kinks," Yorke said, seeing Kinks' eagerness to get inside and rescue Meryl, "I'm waiting for re-inforcements."
"Huh? But who else do we know who could come and help?" Kinks asked with a confused frown.
Yorke said nothing, wondering how many of the Stand Users in New York had their social media calibrated to track sightings of The Cutter. Yorke prudently decided to make sure NOT to let on it was a red herring in order to summon re-reinforcements he hadn't earned. Instead he waited by the entrance and keenly watched everyone as they walked by, doing his best to look natural without arousing the suspicion of the guard they doubtlessly had inside the building...
"Donald
I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you any more.
My father is back in town and he's asked me to join his clinic.
Please give Kinks my regards.
Thank you
-Meryl Feelgood"
Yorke perused it multiple times and idly wafted a breeze across his face as he considered what the letter was telling him. There was the obvious, that Meryl was leaving her post as a mortician at the NYPD, but he couldn't but help shake the feeling there was something more there. He sat at his desk, the sun gently setting behind him and casting his office in a burning orange light while he pondered... and pondered...
--
Meryl stared blankly at the screens in front of her, picking at her nails through the rubber gloves she habitually wore, and listening to the muted screams echoing through the hallways of the building. She mustn't show fear. She knew that she mustn't. Emotions were not to be allowed, they must be constrained and neutered, it was the only way to ensure that they could assess and analyse each subject correctly. Meryl didn't want to watch the experiments, but she had little choice. There was a hiss of an automatic door sliding open and the thud of footsteps as the cold presence of her father washed over Meryl.
"One of the subjects is close to expiring," he intoned, "the child in Room D. You will repair them."
Meryl's hands clenched together as she tried not to shiver at the icy feeling growing behind her.
"Yes, father."
Warmth gradually returned to the air around her as the man who called himself her father left the room. Meryl breathed deeply, trying to steady her heart rate and willing the hot prickle of tears at her eyelids into submission. She must learn to accept this; this was her life now. She got up and left to head to Room D...
--
"Why sign her last name?" Yorke finally asked out loud. It was unusual, Meryl wasn't overly fond of her family name and rarely used it even in more formal settings (which Yorke had noticed multiple times but never commented on) and it was that which finally caused him to cave in on something he'd long resisted. He actually looked up her family on the internet. It felt like betrayal, like he'd given up and was now pitifully using the internet of all things to research. He may have felt like a rank amateur but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to help Meryl. It didn't take very long to find an odd post in a forum about conspiracy theories, alien abduction, ancient civilisations in pillars and the like for him to find what he was looking for. It was surreal, exceptionally unlikely and bordering on the impossible. Yorke had already sent an e-mail to Kinks to meet him at the place he knew they had to be.
--
Amidst the neon lights of the theme park, with Kinks doggedly following at his heels, Yorke began to recite what he had learned.
"There's an urban legend about a roaming medical center cum haunted house that roams the United States searching for people possessed by ghosts. Some say the clinic is purely a show, a bunch of special effects that show people emerging from machines or causing items to spin about the room. But those who say they can SEE the ghosts... they always vanish before the end of the tour. The missing people have never been found. Now, what makes this so interesting for me is the name of this haunted house. Feelgood Inc. Co-incidences are natural events but for the clinic to have been sighted in town at the same time Meryl leaves to be with her father. I doubt that very much."
"Is Meryl in trouble?" Kinks asked, a frown of concern on his face.
Yorke blinked at the question, "Oh. Probably, yes," he replied with a wave of his hand. The two of them slid between a shooting gallery and corn dog stand to stand before the false fronted haunted house. A clear hospital aesthetic adorned the wall that faced them, grey squares with red lit windows and a large red cross with a dripping blood aesthetic. The words "Feel Good Inc" were written in glowing green letters above the door and occasionally flickered as a scream emitted. Yorke took a moment to analyse the timings. Either they had a very LONG track of fake screams. Or the flickering was intended to mask that the screams were indeed quite genuine.
The detective smiled slightly to himself.
"We should wait here a moment, Kinks," Yorke said, seeing Kinks' eagerness to get inside and rescue Meryl, "I'm waiting for re-inforcements."
"Huh? But who else do we know who could come and help?" Kinks asked with a confused frown.
Yorke said nothing, wondering how many of the Stand Users in New York had their social media calibrated to track sightings of The Cutter. Yorke prudently decided to make sure NOT to let on it was a red herring in order to summon re-reinforcements he hadn't earned. Instead he waited by the entrance and keenly watched everyone as they walked by, doing his best to look natural without arousing the suspicion of the guard they doubtlessly had inside the building...