Necroscope by Brian Lumley

Then … a sly grin tugged at his grey lips, the gleam of revelation – of a secret discovered, or about to be discovered – shone in his eyes. It was as if he said, ‘Yes, something is in here, something is trying to hide!’

And now he threw back his head and laughed – laughed out loud, however briefly – before returning to a more frantic scrutiny. But no, it wasn’t enough, the hidden thing would not be exposed. It shrank down out of sight, and glee turned to rage on the instant!

Panting furiously, his grey face trembling in the grip of unimaginable emotions, the naked man snatched up a slim tool whose sharpness shone in mirror brightness. In something of an ordered manner at first, he commenced to cut out the various organs, pipes and bladders; but as his work progressed so it grew ever more vicious and indiscriminate, until the guts as they were partially or almost wholly detached hung out of the body over the edge of the fluted metal table in grotesque lumpy rags, flaps and tatters. And still it was not enough, still the hunted thing eluded him.

He gave a shriek which passed through the speaker into the other room like chalk sliding on a blackboard, like a shovel grating in cold ashes, and grimacing hid­eously began to hack off the dangling gobbets and hurl them all about. He smeared them down his body, held them to his ear and ‘listened’ to them. He scattered them wide, tossed them over his hunched shoulders, hurled them into the bath, the sink. Gore spattered everywhere; and again his cry of frustration, of weird anguish, ripped through the speaker:

Not there! Not there!’

In the other room the gasping of the man on the right had turned to a wretched choking. Suddenly he snatched I he waste bin from the table, lurched upright and stag­gered away to a corner of the room. Borowitz grudgingly gave him credit that he was reasonably quiet about it.

‘My God, my God!’ the man on the left had started to repeat, over and over, each repetition louder than the one before. And, ‘Awful, awful! He is depraved, insane, a fiend!’

‘He is brilliant!’ Borowitz growled. ‘See? See? Now he goes to the heart of the matter . . .’

Beyond the screen, the naked man had taken up a surgical saw. His arm and hand and the instrument itself were a blur of red, grey and silver where he sawed upwards through the centre of the sternum. Sweat rivered his gore-spattered skin, dripped from him in a hot rain as he levered at the subject’s chest. It would not give; the blade of the silver hacksaw broke and he threw it down. Crying like an animal, frantic in his movements, he lifted his head and scanned the room, seeking something. His eyes rested briefly on a metal chair, widened in inspi­ration. In a moment he had snatched the chair up, was using two of its legs as levers in the fresh-cut channel.

In a cracking of bones and a tearing of flesh the left side of the corpse’s chest rose up, was forced back, a trapdoor in the upper trunk. In went the naked man’s hands … a terrible wrenching . . . and out they came, holding the prize aloft … but only for a moment. Then-

Holding the heart at arms’ length in both hands, the naked man waltzed it across the room, whirled it round and round. He hugged it close, held it up to his eyes, his ears. He pressed it to his own chest, caressed it, sobbed like a baby. He sobbed his relief, burning tears coursing down his grey cheeks. And in another moment all the strength seemed to go out of him.

His legs trembled, became jelly. Still hugging the heart he crumpled, plopped down on the floor, curled up into an almost foetal position with the heart lost in the curl of his body. He lay still.

‘All done -‘ said Borowitz * – maybe!’

He stood up, crossed to the speaker and pressed a second button marked ‘Intercom’. But before speaking he glanced narrow-eyed at his subordinates. One of them had not moved from his corner, where he now sat with his head lolling, the waste bin between his legs. In another corner the second man was bending from his waist, hands on hips, up and down, up and down, exhaling as he went down, inhaling as he came erect again. The faces of both men were slick with sweat.

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