Rewired

At long last, the hunt was over.

Detective Inspector John Stone walked quietly towards the door of the Maple’s house, a large cottage just off the main street. The house was perfectly placed of course: isolated enough so that nobody would have heard or seen the abominations that occurred in the basement; but close enough to civilisation so as not to draw attention to the police by being isolated. In hindsight (always such a useful thing to have) this house fitted the bill perfectly for its occupants: a pair of crazed serial killers, both who had terrified the city for well over 20 years. However, he had finally managed to track both of these monsters down, and would finally weed out their sickening acts from the rest of society.

And to crown everything off, Stone thought as he rang their doorbell, he alone would bring them in, and thus would go up in the world of police forces. As he waited, he thought he could hear Avenged Sevenfold’s A Little Piece of Heaven playing from somewhere in the house, but before he could identify the song properly, the door opened to reveal the stunningly beautiful Mrs Maple.

“Can I help you?” she asked in her angelic voice, quickly putting up her shining black hair in a neat pony tail so that she could speak to him with greater ease. She was wearing a brightly coloured knee length dress, which looked like it had come out of the 1920’s.

“Yes, I was wondering whether I could come in for a quick talk to you and your husband about the Wolf Murders?” Stone asked politely, but with enough force to demonstrate that he would not be persuaded to go away. Mrs Maple picked up on the tone perfectly.

“Of course, Inspector. We will do our part to assist you in whatever manner we can,” she curtseyed politely, and then stepped back to welcome him into the house. Stone stepped briskly into the house, pausing only to remove his hat and coat. He then proceeded into the main living room in the house, pursued closely by Mrs Maple.

The main living room was fairly plain, but large. In the centre of the room was a beautifully carved mahogany table, surrounded by a semi-circle of 5 black leather sofas. At the head of the table, in the centre of the semi-circle, sat Mr Maple, who was staring intently at an 18th century picture of a young couple on the wall. He was wearing what appeared to be his best dinner suit, complete with a rose pinned through the pocket the left side of his chest.

Arranged in front of him was a variety of knives and scalpels, all of which sent a shiver down Stone’s spine.

“Good evening Inspector. How may we assist you?” Mr Maple asked, looking away from the picture and focusing his gaze on Stone. He smiled a little, but the effect was lost as his teeth were as white as his face, which had no trace of a beard or moustache. His black hair was slicked back in a style that reminded Stone of 1930’s films he had seen. He, like his wife, looked around their late 20’s, which struck Stone as odd because that meant they would have had to been at the oldest small children when the murders started...

“Have a seat Inspector,” Mrs Maple gestured towards the seat at the far left of the table. She appeared so polite, but there was firmness in her voice which did not allow for argument against the command.

“Thank you,” Stone said, and sat down. He accepted a cup of tea offered by Mrs Maple, who disappeared back into the kitchen, and turned his attention to Mr Maple, who had resumed looking at the portrait on the wall.

“Mr Maple, I thank you and your wife for your hospitality, but I’m afraid that I am here to arrest you both for serial murder for the past 20 years. I have enough evidence to send you both to the gallows, but fortunately for you two the death penalty was abolished 30 years ago. I am now offering you both a choice: you can come quietly with me, and I can give a good word in to see that you are both together in prison and the mental asylum, or you can wait for the rest of the force to arrive, whereupon I can guarantee nothing. The choice is yours Mr Maple,” Stone looked intently at his host, who didn’t stop looking at the portrait. For five minutes, Maple was silent. After that time, without taking his eyes off the portrait he spoke softly, so softly Stone had to lean out of his seat to hear him.

“Ah, so finally the third detective with the wits enough to find us. I had expected this from you Inspector, but dear Jocelyn didn’t think you had the wits. I’m so glad I sized up your character better than she: for once I am going to gloat over her failure. Thank you Inspector.”

Stone looked bewildered. Maple had just confirmed his guilt, but he didn’t seem at all phased at the fact he had been discovered. Quite the contrary, he appeared intensely pleased with the discovery. Did he believe that Stone was alone, because Stone knew he wasn’t lying when he had said that the rest of the force would arrive? He had telephoned them just before arriving.
No, maybe he was pleased because he had been offered a chance to be with his wife, but he didn’t appear to believe that he would be in captivity at all...

The blow to the back of his head sent Stone to the floor, his head reeling. His vision went, and there was a roar in his ears. He was aware of strong arms picking him up and dragging him somewhere, but he lost consciousness before his concussed brain could regain its senses.

* * *

Stone became aware of the smell first: a combination of electrical burning, decay and the sickly sweet scent of blood. Then, as his vision returned to him slowly, a gnawing pain began at the back of his head, making him feel light headed. Somewhere in his rational brain a voice wondered whether he was concussed. Whilst his vision was still coming back, he tried to move, and upon doing so discovered he was fastened tightly to a table standing on its edge, leaving him standing like he would normally. Eventually, his vision returned enough for him to see where he was.

He was facing a complicated series of vermillion screens and flashing buttons, in front of which hunched a dark figure barely identifiable as Maple. Beyond these screens, attached to the dark brick wall were a variety of chemicals in large containers, all of which was lit from some unseen light below them. On the far left of the room was a door, whilst on the far right, attached by a multiplicity of pipes and wires to the apparatus directly in front of him, were two glass chambers that resembled test tubes. Inside the left one was a sleeping figure, which appeared to be a young woman.

As he tried to move against his restraints a second time, making a lot of noise in the process, Maple turned around and looked directly at him.

“Inspector Stone, I assume you are not familiar with bio-electronic science?” he asked, turning around briefly to type something into one of the many keyboards surrounding him. Stone shook his head briefly, an action which made Maple smile wolfishly.

“I thought not. Then I won’t bore you with the details on how this apparatus works. All I need to tell you is that all people are chemicals, with the “soul and personality” merely electronic impulses running through the chemicals in the brain. Do you understand me so far?”

A nod from Stone.

“Good. So therefore, it goes to reason that if somehow I could manage to control the chemicals running through the body, whilst at the same time rewiring the brain, I can play God with people by creating personalities I like to have around, understand? So, it also goes to reason that if I could somehow resupply the body with electricity whilst at the same time replacing chemicals that have become redundant or no longer function, I can therefore live forever. Do you follow me? Excellent. Therefore, do you know what you are looking at?” During this speech, Maple had turned around and had begun to type again, but for the last question, he had turned and looked at Stone directly, raising his eyebrows mockingly as he did so.

Stone stared at Maple, dumbstruck. Then, with growing apprehension, he realised exactly what Maple was saying. He had somehow managed to control his ageing, thus making him look a lot younger than he actually was, although his body technically was the age that he looked. This meant he could very easily have been around for the murders 20 years ago.

Maple’s smile grew slightly, and Stone realised his face must have shown what he was thinking. Perhaps it was time to wipe the smile off his face, Stone thought, and I might be able to get some answers as well.
“You must realise that the rest of the force know where I am, and are already en route as we speak. What can you possibly expect to gain by killing me?” Stone tried his best to look defiant, but it didn’t really come out very well.

Maple stood up, and walked over so he was standing directly in front of Stone. “The police won’t be here for a very long time inspector. When you phoned them before coming here, you did not realise that I had rewired the phones so that I received your calls. As far as the police are concerned, you are still at home poring over the case which you have become partially obsessed with. Now, as to killing you, You will find that neither my wife nor I have ever killed anyone in our lives before. No, we make the people kill themselves. That person in there, Sarah I think her name is (or was, I think the rewiring has given her a new name now), has been reprogrammed so that her brain now associates pain with pleasure, and that the more she stabs herself, and the more blood she loses, the better she will become. You too will have that happen to you, but for now you can observe as an outsider (what we have been for some time now) to the process, and see what we do to our subjects,” there was now a cold glimmer in his eyes, some sadistic glint that showed his true nature as a monster. Stone understood exactly what he was saying as well, which made him appear even more terrifying.

“But why are you doing this?” the edge of panic was beginning to creep into Stone’s voice, no matter what he did to try and prevent it.

“Because it’s fun!” the angelic voice seemed incredibly out of place in the room, just as Mrs Maple did when she appeared a second later at the door. She was now wearing heavy black make up and an ankle length slim black dress that clung to her skin, moving like liquid.
“And also because we believe that you lesser people need to be taught how this world really works: that we are all fighting for survival, and that we are merely machines programmed to do so. We have spent far too long trying to prove to the rest of our species that nothing is certain, no emotions are truly real (they are merely chemicals and electricity) and nothing really matters. It is only us two, two beautiful people together for mutual benefit against the rest of the nature who are allowed to live forever, enjoying life to its fullest, watching so many lesser things die. Like you.”

Whilst she had been talking, she had started to hold onto her husband, who had held her in return, and as she finished, she looked at Stone through his arms. After a brief pause, the door to the capsule opened, and “Sarah”, a pretty little girl of about 21, stepped out, looking dazed. Mr Maple broke away from his wife to direct Sarah to a table full of the variety of sharp implements that Stone had seen earlier. Mrs Maple walked slowly up to Stone, and whispered with quiet enthusiasm into his ear:

“Are you ready? Then let this show begin!”