SSS 2 - Go for the lever

You lunge for the lever and throw it with both hands. It doesn’t come easily, but it pulls down with a heavy, metallic noise. Metal rattles and clanks inside the machine.

You look in panic at the timer. It’s down to five. Four.

The device is like a clamshell. Slowly, it begins to split apart with a grinding noise.

Three. Two. One. The green light turns to red. The door locks. You swallow. You and Colby will just have to figure something out.

You turn back to the machine and look down as the rusted lids open fully.

Colby lies inside wearing black bra and panties that are sophisticated, but simplistic. Her face is covered by a Peachface mask. Her hands don’t appear to be bound. She’s lost weight. And… her whole body shape has changed.

It was one thing on the grainy CRT screens, but up close you can see that these legs are longer and more toned than your girlfriend’s. This girl is as fair-skinned as Colby, but her complexion is still different. Her hair is long and dark, not short and blonde like Colby’s.

You step back, horror and nausea rushing through your body as the girl slowly sits up.

The Peachface mask turns toward you.

“Wrong choice, Meri,” she says, and this time there’s no modulation in the way. This is a young woman’s voice. She almost absently reaches down to her ankle and rubs away the fake tattoo, then gracefully turns her body and gets to her feet. You see the Riddick knife in her hand. “But don’t worry,” she says, advancing on you. “We can still make it work.”

“Where’s Colby?” you ask, backing away from her.

“Probably wherever you left her,” Peachface replies, still moving toward you. “Don’t give us too much credit. We can’t grab everyone.”

“We?”

“You don’t think I did all this alone, did you?” Peachface cocks her head slightly, and you look over your shoulder to see two more figures in the room with you: both wear coveralls and Peachface masks. Both of them are holding knives.

“Holy shit,” you whimper. You turn back only to find the lingerie-wearing Peachface right in front of you. You are frozen.

“Weird knife you brought,” Peachface says.

You’re shaking. “What?” You let out a cry as she stabs you in the side with the knife, then jerks it out. You collapse to the dirty floor. The three Peachfaces loom over you. It hurts and you’re bleeding. It doesn’t feel real.

After a moment, the two in coveralls move away. The remaining Peachface kneels beside you, setting the bloody knife on the floor.

“Remember what I said,” she tells you.

She rises and walks away. You lie there, head swimming, trying not to moan in pain. Your hand is pressed to your side, but warm blood is still flowing. You’re in shock. You can’t keep track of time. You find the strength to sit up and lean against the workbench beside you. In front of you is the machine that you believed was holding Colby prisoner. You feel weak and sleepy.

At least Colby is OK… if Peachface was telling the truth. Thinking about all the time you didn’t spend with Colby over the last few months hurts more than the wound on your side. You’ve never wanted to see her more than you do now.