by TheTimeTrust
The Tower of Cuccubao, Brazil:
There was death afoot in the darkness.*
The Tower of Cuccubao was ancient. And this ancient structure had a history steeped in blood and evil. Its very air sought to bring out the worst in all who walked through it. As Chance crept through the dim, cobwebbed passageways with nothing but a torch to light his way, he could feel the stain of evil clawing at him from the darkness.
But Kristofer Schanz was no mere mortal man. He was Chance, the Luckiest Man Alive! And as he stalked through this passageway with a grim determination few men were capable of, his muscles rippled as if possessing a life of their own. He had not had time to don any clothing at all since the group had been taken captive not long ago, and so he went through the corridor still completely naked, his bronzed skin covered only in blood (none his own), sweat, and grime. His sandy blond hair remained untousled, however, and if a savage could have seen him at that moment, he very well might have fallen to his feet right then and there and worshipped Chance as a god.
Chance always kept his hearing alert, and now he listened even more intently than usual. However, the only sound that greeted him was the sound of his own bare feet running against the cold stone floor. Occasionally, a large beetle or even a large rat could be seen scurrying out of the way as Chance ran through, but no other signs of life were to be found anywhere.
He stopped then. What was that sound he had just heard?
Chance's keen ears perked up as he listened closely to a new sound in the stillness of the eternal night of Cuccubao. It was a horrible moaning sound that could have meant only one thing -- Chance and his faithful allies had not been the only ones caught unaware by the vile fiends who had made the Tower of Cuccubao their base.
His pace picked up then as he followed the sound down a dark passageway, never missing a step even as his torch blew out and left him in complete darkness. The Luckiest Man Alive, however, needed nothing but his unerring instincts to guide him, and Chance closed his eyes even as he ran blindly down one passageway and through another, up a stairwell and down another one, all while sheathed in complete darkness.
The moans grew closer now, and Chance knew he was nearby the latest victim of the horrors to be found in the tower. The bronze-skinned Swede opened his eyes, then, and saw a light dim in the darkness before him but growing brighter and brighter as he ran swiftly toward it. It was not a sunbeam -- it was like no natural light at all. It bathed a horrible shade of green across everything around it, a shade which existed only to mock the true, life-giving color of green found in the Amazon jungle. This was a shade of green that could only be found in the worst of red-light districts and horror-movie vendors. Chance suppressed a shudder as he these thoughts passed through his keen mind in less than a second while making his way to the passageway to the room from which the tortured moaning sounds were coming.
Chance stopped at the doorway. The stench of blood and human bile coming from this ramshackle laboratory was almost too much to bear even for the sturdy, heroically built Kristofer Schanz. And his stomach almost heaved involuntarily as he saw the horror played out before him.
A hunched-over, elderly man dressed in what used to be a white robe that was spattered in what looked like dark black drops in this green light turned as he heard the newcomer. "Vell, vell, vell -- ve zeem to haf found a new playmate for our experiments, ja?"
"You... you monster!" Chance breathed as his eyes gaped while scanning the room.
No man should ever have had to see what Chance saw occur in this room. As a man of action, he was sworn to seek out adventure wherever he could find it. Yet this was nearly too much even for him.
There were body-parts everywhere -- countless decapitated heads hung dripping dry from hooks connected to a metal chassis upon the high ceiling, while arms, legs, and even torsos were neatly stacked in bins and a few on tables. The old German doctor -- for that was what he considered himself to be -- wore a calm smile that belied the absolute horror of the situation around him. There seemed to be nothing but death in this room, death displayed under shocking green lamps as if in mockery of life.
And that was not the worst part of it, for as Chance moved slowly into the room and looked over the shoulder of the old doctor, he saw the face of what seemed to be a beautiful young Indian maiden. The thought of the old butcher's experiments on this helpless young girl enraged him so much that he almost lost control. Yet as the doctor stepped back, the blood rushed from Chance's head. The face of the young girl he had seen seemed to be attached to a horribly misshapen body made up of many different parts!
"You appreciate my work, ja?" the old German doctor laughed.
"Horrible monster!" Chance spat out as righteous anger took control over him. "What have you done? What have you done?!"
"This?" the doctor said, motioning around the room with his hands. "Ach, this is all done in the name of medical science, young fellow."
"Don't. You. Dare..."
"Hm? Vhat vas that?"
"Don't you dare desecrate the good name of science, you... you filthy devil!" Chance said evenly, his rage causing his muscles to ripple involuntarily.
The German doctor laughed, flashing his crooked teeth for a moment as he smiled a sickly smile. "You are man of science as well, I take it?"
"BASTARD!" Chance shouted, lunging at him.
"Ernst! ERNST!" the doctor shouted as Chance went for his throat.
A huge hand gripped Chance from behind, pulling him back away from the German doctor, who fell to his knees as he tried to breathe again. Chance could not see what had grabbed him, but he could feel the texture of sweaty, hairy skin upon his back as Ernst pulled him in a grip tightly.
"Aghk!" the creature groaned after a moment, letting Chance go. He had only succeeded in crushing himself somewhat, as Chance's involuntary force-redirecting ability kicked in.
Chance turned on the balls of his feet as soon as he was free from Ernst's grip, and he saw what had held him. It was difficult to describe, but it was an abomination of nature -- a new, huge creature with four huge arms and legs as large as those of a rhino. Its dead eyes gleamed with a reflected sickly green light even as they receded into its huge cranium.
"Ve haf been very busy here, you see, young man," the German doctor began again, speaking loudly from the far end of the room, where he seemed to be getting something. "Ernst was my first successful experiment, you see. Zey say zat cloning is ze only vorthvhile endeavor left in the field of bio-technology, but I say zat ve hafen't exhausted ze ozer possibilities just yet, as you can zee before you!"
Even as Ernst grunted and lurched forward again to attempt another try to grab Chance, the Luckiest Man Alive heard the sounds of several more creatures coming from the shadows, each enraged to see a stranger in their midst, a stranger who had tried to hurt the doctor.
Chance looked around for a weapon to use against them. His force-redirecting ability had almost always worked for him in the past, but he had never been in such a situation as this. Even now he was surrounded by the horrible man-made monsters which as one moved forward, closer, and closer, and ever closer, to grab him and pull him apart, limb by limb.
Suddenly, Chance leapt up into the air. He grabbed one of the meat-hooks dangling from chains hooked to the ceiling and flung the head, which was impaled upon one of the monster's own heads, knocking it unconscious. Quickly he pulled himself upward, seeking to escape from the beasts.
"Ah-ah-ah," the old doctor said laughing, as he pressed a button.
The chain upon which Chance had begun climbing suddenly began lowering into the pit below him. The monsters began licking their lips as they looked at their next meal. Though much of his body would be used to create more of these misshapen monsters, there would be leftover parts tossed to the horde for food.
As the hook at the end of the chain lowered, one of the monsters grabbed it and began pulling it down faster, shaking it as it did so in an attempt to throw Chance off. The Luckiest Man Alive leapt from one chain to another a few feet away and began climbing again, this time more desperately to the ceiling, though it, too, began to lower at a rapid pace.
"Zere iss no escape, young sir!" the German doctor cackled. "Zere iss only vun entrance to this room, and it iss guarded by my test subjects. You haf no place to go!"
Yet Chance continued to make his way further and further across the room to the other end by leaping from one chain to another. Finally he made his way to the far upper corner of the room where his bare feet gripped him firmly against the rough stone walls that afforded him a very little ledge.
"You are trapped now, young man! Vhat are you planning to do? Stay up zere forever?" The German doctor began to laugh heartily, and as he did so, a horribly gleeful, groaning sound that could only have been an attempt at laughter began to come from the horde of monsters far below.
Chance could hardly see anything in the dark corner, for the sickly pale green lights were affixed at points much lower than where he precariously stood. Yet his keen vision was better than those of most ordinary men; he quickly adjusted to the lack of light and saw exactly what he was hoping he would see when he reached this upper corner of the room.
Gripping his powerful hands around the rim of the metal chassis upon which all the chains and hooks were affixed, Chance braced his bare back against the ceiling and corner and began to push, push, push with all his might.
Chance's bronzed arms rippled as muscles rarely seen in the human form popped magnificently under the strain of this mighty feat. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly as he pushed with everything he had against the metal chassis connected to the ceiling by a mere few iron bolts in a few places.
Yet Chance knew how ancient the stones of the Tower of Cuccubao were, and how easily they would crumble if enough force, enough pressure, could be applied to them. After several tense moments of effort, a creaking sound could be heard as the metal chassis along the ceiling began to groan against the pressure.
"Nein..." the doctor breathed as he realized what Chance was doing. He turned and tried to run towards the exit, but could not get past the horde of creatures he had spawned in this very room. "Back! Back, you monstrosities!" he shouted, but the monsters were too slow to listen, especially since they were trained so intently on Chance. A few had even begun climbing the chains in a vague attempt to reach the hero. This only served to help pull the metal chassis further out of the ceiling. "GET OUT OF MY VAY!" the doctor screamed in horror as the implications set into his mind, but he could do nothing to move his creatures.
"AAAAAGGGGGHHHGGGGGHKKKKK!" Chance groaned loudly as the strain became almost too much, even for him. But the metal chassis in the ceiling was becoming looser as each moment passed quickly by. A metallic popping sound could be heard as screws and bolts fell away toward the stone floor. And then, the cracking of old wood and stone signalled the dislodging of the metal chassis which held so much weight from it.
The next moment passed almost in slow motion, in near-complete silence, as Chance lost the grip he had on the wall, and took that moment to push himself away from it, leaping out toward the center of the metal chassis even as it fell far below to the floor. Chance gripped his huge hands around the bars and felt weightless during the flight down, preparing himself for the sudden deceleration as he hit the stone floor.
WHAM!
The metal chassis smashed upon the stone floor, its weight crushing everything underneath it -- operating tables, desks, chairs, and the horde of monsters that should never have been allowed to exist in the first place. Blood spurted everywhere as the creatures came apart and were impaled by the spikes along the bottom of the metal chassis upon which the chains were affixed. Random body parts were flung into the air in the few gaps between the bars. And the sound of the metal hitting hard stone reverberated throughout the large room.
Chance had held on tightly to the metal chassis as it fell to the ground, and it had taken every muscle in his body to keep from being thrown more forcefully to the ground along with it. He steadied himself as it bounced once and finally settled again upon the floor. Most of the creatures below him, if they had ever really been alive, were now dead. But just to be sure, Chance grabbed one of the hooks and made sure to finish off each one he heard still moaning, putting them out of their misery forever. As he killed the last one, he looked down to see the severed head of the young Indian maiden at his feet. Too horrified for words, he picked it up and looked into her face. How old could she possibly have been? Fourteen? Fifteen? Well, the horrors she had been put through were at an end, now. Hopefully, if there was a God in this fallen world, she would be in a better place now.
His keen ears then alerted him to a sound by the doorway. He placed the head carefully back onto the floor and walked over to the exit, where he saw the old German doctor attempting to pry his bloodied leg from beneath the weight of the metal chassis in order to escape. As he saw the shadow of the Luckiest Man Alive fall over him, the old German doctor displayed the first signs of fear on his face that he had ever truly felt.
"Y-you vouldn't h-hurt an old man," he gasped as he flinched backward, "vould you?"
The only answer was the sound of metal against bone as Kristofer Schanz tore his head apart with the meat-hook still in his right hand.
Several moments later, Chance stood in the corridor near the room feeling nothing but numbness. He didn't know what to feel. What kind of monsters could have done such things to innocent human beings? He had just killed a man, something he had never done before and had never believed he was capable of. Yet there was nothing else he could've done. It wouldn't have been right to let that bastard -- that inhuman monster -- live after what he'd done. After all the people he had killed in the name of science. Executing him was the obvious thing do, no doubt about it.
It was then that the point of this mission came back to him, and he realized he had to get moving again if he was to find the map and continue the search for the old tome which MBL Consulting had been hired to find. Yet he had not counted on anything like this. And he couldn't very well just leave all these corpses lying crushed on the ground like they were. They needed a proper burial.
Kristofer Schanz's ancestors were Vikings. Whenever a Viking warrior had died a warrior's death, he would be placed upon a boat which would be set on fire as it was set adrift, even as the Valkyrie maiden-warriors came to take him away to the gates of Valhalla. Well, the monsters he had fought were no Viking warriors, but they deserved some kind of decent burial, at least. They had not chosen to be what these scientists had made of them. A burial by flame seemed the logical thing to do.
Chance quickly found a closet by one of the nearby walls, the door of which was the only thing that had been smashed off. He grabbed two large jugs of bleach and popped the caps off, quickly splashing them around the room, careful not to get any on his bare skin (though luckily enough, nothing splashed onto him), and soon had covered enough of the room. The new bleach smell mixed with the rancid meaty smells and created a worse odor than before, if that were possible. Tossing the two emptied jugs of bleach into the room behind him, he ripped one of the lamps from the wall above the doorway and threw it down to the ground. Sparks flew, which caused flames to quickly jump up and engulf the room. But Chance was already gone.
He was on the run again, his naked skin caked over in drying blood and filth. And while he felt numb, he felt almost as if he had been put through a baptism of fire himself. Until now he had been playing by the rules of his own universe, but there were situations in this world, such as the one he had just encountered, that called for an attack which was just as fierce. This event had changed him, he knew. He knew that these horrible events would be played in his mind over and over again for as long as lived. But he was ready, now. He was a part of this world, like it or not. To use an analogy, his cherry had just been popped.
* This chapter was written as a tribute to Doc Savage: Man of Bronze, which begins with the same first line.