Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

tentor and Civet struggled to move the Grotesquery off the stretcher and on to the operating table. The Grotesquery was big and heavy and awkward, but most of all it was big and heavy. They had just managed to drag the top half over when the stretcher squeaked and moved, and the Grotesquery started to fall. Civet tried to grab it, but he went under and the Grotesquery dropped, very slowly, on top of him.

      “Help!” Civet cried.

      Professor Grouse stormed in. “What on earth are you playing at?”

      “It, it fell,” Stentor said, standing to attention.

      “I can see that!” Grouse barked. “That specimen is a rare opportunity to study a hybrid form, you imbecile. I don’t want it damaged.”

      “Yes, Professor. Sorry.”

      “Why were you trying to move it by yourself? Where’s Civet?”

      Civet managed to raise a hand. “Here I am, Professor.”

      “What on earth are you doing down there, Civet?”

      “Trying to breathe, sir.”

      “Well, get up!”

      “I would, sir, but it’s very heavy. If you could maybe grab an arm or something …”

      “I’m an old man, you fool. You expect me to lift that monstrosity off you?”

      “Not by yourself, but maybe if Stentor were to help, then I could wriggle out. It really is getting difficult to breathe under here. I think my lung is collapsing.”

      Grouse gestured. “Stentor, help me lift.”

      “Yes, Professor.”

      Together, they pulled the Grotesquery back far enough to enable Civet to squirm out.

      “I’ve never dropped a specimen,” Grouse said as they grunted and heaved. “I was never pinned by a corpse either, Civet. You remember that.”

      “Yes, sir,” said Civet, as he finally managed to extricate himself.

      Grouse hunkered down beside the Grotesquery, then took a pair of scissors and carefully snipped a few bandages away, revealing the scarred flesh beneath. “Astonishing,” he murmured. “So many parts from different creatures, all merged into the one being. A being borne of impossible horrors.”

      Stentor nodded. “It’d be even more impressive if it worked though.”

      “Less talking,” Grouse snapped, “more lifting. Lift it on to the table. And no more damage to it, you hear? I swear, you’re lucky I’m so easy-going. Stentor. Bend your knees when you lift, you idiot.”

      “Sorry sir.”

      They strained and lifted, and suddenly Civet let go and jumped back. Stentor clung on, holding the Grotesquery half on, half off the table.

      “What’s wrong now?” Grouse demanded.

      “Professor,” Civet said nervously, “are you sure this thing is dead?”

      “It’s not a thing, it’s a specimen.”

      “Sorry, sir. Are you sure this specimen is dead? I … I think it moved.”

      “Of course it moved. You moved it.”

      “No, sir. I mean, I think it moved on its own.”

      “Well, I don’t see how that could be. The ritual to bring it to life was interrupted – only a small portion of Valkyrie Cain’s blood was transfused.”

      Civet hesitated then grabbed a massive arm and helped Stentor slide it further on to the table.

      He leaped away. “OK!” he said loudly. “OK, that time I definitely felt it move!”

      “A lot of energy was passed into it,” Grouse said, frowning. “It may just be a residual spasm. The muscles may simply be reacting to stimuli.”

      “It wasn’t a spasm,” Civet said. “I swear.”

      Grouse looked at the bandage-wrapped body. It was big and cold and unmoving. “Very well,” he said. “How many Cleavers are stationed here?”

      “Three.”

      “OK, then. Boys, I want you both to go upstairs, tell the Cleavers to come down here, tell them we may have a—”

      And then the Grotesquery sat up and Civet yelled and jumped back, but Stentor was too slow and it grabbed his head in its big hand and crushed it like a freshly laid egg.

      

      alkyrie opened her eyes. Was that a scream? She sat up and looked out into the corridor. The lights were flickering. She heard running footsteps. Then nothing. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

      She got out of bed, her limbs protesting, her arm aching. Her bare feet touched the cold floor. She padded to the small wardrobe built into the wall, where she found her socks and boots. She pulled them on quickly in the darkened room, and she was just shrugging into her coat when she heard someone crying for help. Then a thud and the crying stopped.

      Valkyrie poked her head out the door, looked up towards the morgue, and saw the figure moving through the dim corridor like some kind of puppet with half its strings cut. It moved in a jerky manner, stiff and uncoordinated, but even as she watched, it seemed to move a little more smoothly, like it was getting used to its own body. It stepped into a pool of light.

      The Grotesquery. It was alive.

      She saw the bandages – so old they might have turned to dust under her gaze – that had been used to keep it in one piece. She saw flesh between the bandages, and scars, and stitching. Its ribcage looked like it had been cracked and pulled open, so that now each rib punctured through its torso.

      It had something that looked like a massive boil growing on the top of its left wrist and on the underside there was a thick ridge of flesh. Its right arm was huge, the muscles curling impossibly around one another, all the way down to its massive hand. Its fingers were thick, each tipped with a talon. The bandages covered its face completely, not even a gap for the eyes. Here and there black blood had soaked through.

      Why was there no alarm? The Grotesquery was alive, but there was no alarm. Valkyrie stepped back, grabbed a chair and stood on it. She clicked her fingers but nothing happened. Her eyes narrowed. She focused, clicked her fingers again until she made a spark, cultivated it into a flame and held it up to the smoke detectors. After a moment the sprinkler system activated and the alarm pierced the silence.

      She hurried back to the door as three Cleavers ran by. It was only when they got close to it that she realised how big the Grotesquery truly was. It towered above the tallest of them. They were used to dealing with serious threats. But they had never seen anything like this.

      The Grotesquery batted away the swipe of a scythe and grabbed the first Cleaver by the throat. It lifted him high overhead as it swatted the second Cleaver into the wall. The third Cleaver swung his scythe and the Grotesquery swung his colleague’s body into him. Valkyrie heard bones break.

      Three seconds. The Grotesquery had killed three Cleavers in three seconds.

      Valkyrie stepped back inside her room. The sprinklers were drenching her. She could run for it. Step out of the doorway, turn right, sprint the length of the corridor to the Research Area, then get to the stairs. She’d pass through the screen and be running from the cinema before the Grotesquery even saw her.