Author’s note: If you haven’t read AMI 2 there will be confusing parts. Also just wanted to add it came to my attention that someone took AMI 2 and The Dark Web and posted them on another site claiming it was their stories. I don’t mind if kills or anything else are used from my stories but don’t steal my work and put your name on it.
“Damn it! Nick, the f*****g lights are cutting off again!” Jax yells after opening the door to the main room. The stink of harsh cleaning chemicals and gut rot fill the area. The two people in white suits head out the main door in the midst of Jax’s outburst.
In his office perched on the second floor, Nick looks back through the grimy window holding a thumbs up sarcastically, a corded phone pressed against his ear.
A phone rumbles for a few seconds before a pale hand with slight blood stains wrapped around the pointer finger picks it up. While pressing a bundled cloth to her face, she answers through the thin cotton, “Arbatian Mental Institution, this is Vanya Cranston how may I help you?”
“Cranston it’s Nick, listen the power is shitting bricks over here, since our generator is nearby your facility I was wondering if maybe if it was a thunderstorm heading our way? Or hell maybe even technical trouble?”
She looks out the wide double doors that are thrown open. Two enormous bronze angels engage in a fight a large furry beast. Letting go of the pad she reveals a lacerated lip and responds, “Sorry love, just technical issues we’re dealing with. Give it a few moments, I’m sure the issue will be resolved shortly.”
A shiver goes down his spine, he can almost feel her devilish smile creeping on her face from the other end of the phone line. “You’re a doll Cranston, oh by the way, clean up crew got some hearts for you. Should be heading your way here soon.”
Mrs.Cranston hangs the phone up before heading outside into the warm night air, the moon hangs delicately in the gentle sky . A lugging copper angel drops a mangled torso onto the steps as she blazes a flame to her cigarette.
Nick steps out of his office while the lights flicker back to life. “Everything’s fine, trouble down at the loony bin. Get back to work everybody.”
Jax walks by pushing into Horace purposely with his shoulder. He doesn’t look back, just keeps walking through the main room and through a metal door to an unknown region of the building. Horace stares at it for a minute then turns around, Janelle skips by without a worry in the world.
“Hey, am I the only one wondering what the hell that noise was?” Horace asks, his voice clinging to a steady calmness fighting the urge to tremble.
She looks back smiling, sliding on old rubber gloves she replies, “You really are a drifter huh? Down the dirt road to the east is some shithole called Arbatian Mental Institution. It houses any secrets familes don’t want others knowing about, not my beliefs so take that with a grain of salt. I’m just exposing their film in the red room, never been there personally but met a couple of workers there. They visit now and then for things, one of em’ requests hearts daily, figure it’s what they feed the patients or something. Anyways back to the grind.”
Horace begins to ask another question when he hears, “New guy, get your a*s over here!”
Turning around he sees an overweight mexican man, his face swollen with a layer of extra insulin pushing around his neck causing a bloating effect. “Come on we got steers til’ the end of the shift.”
Motioning his plump fingers in a swift motion the man begins to lose his breath and drops his arm walking over to a different sector of the floor. The main floor had three different sections all cornered off with steel sheets nailed to fencing. One section were the pigs, across were the steer and in the back corner were chickens. There was a ladder leading up to a second floor which only consisted of Nick’s cubicle with a large glass window looking over everyone. Besides the break room which had a door leading to the back area, the only other doors were the metal one Jax gone into and the main entrance.
Horace steps over to the man and into the section, the floor was already beginning to drown in putrid muck. A hole cut out for the outside staff to walk the steer in head first. “Hey Mondo got one coming,” a blonde haired man peeks his head in quickly before retreiving it. A cow pokes its head into the hole and looks around. It makes eye contact with Horace, something in his soul stirs, something trying to grasp his attention. He shakes it off wraps his arm under the neck and around the side of the head. “I’m sorry he whispers.”
Mondo picks up a bloodied saw and yells out, “Hold it still makes it easier.” He places the saw under the throat and rears back.
Just outside the building to the right sits an area of hogs in a small enclosed area. Different than the rest, their bellies were slender, eyes crazed with hunger. A man leans on the rickety fence while looking down at the starving animals.
“How hungry are you? What would you be willing to eat?” He taunts the hogs while leaning forward, releasing his grasp on the wood he reaches down into a black sack on the ground next to him. Pulling out a severed hand, the color had been drained with a rotting smell added to it.
“Would you be willing to eat this?” He tosses the hand into the circle. The animals greedily fight over the small portion of human meat as the man smiles.