Seven Point Eight (58 page)

Nicholas and Curtis were next, leaving their body to the sound of ‘Good Vibrations’, an appropriate signature tune with an otherworldly feel to it and Tahra towed them to the serpent realm again. Paul felt satisfied with the follow up reports, and the fact that the two men had experienced a positive outcome. They appeared to remain mentally stable after their encounters with the serpents, and looked forward to another journey.

Sonya and Dominique fared better than Paul had envisioned. In fact, these two women seemed most eager for more. He realised it wouldn’t be long before they were ready to explore new worlds too.

However, he wanted to give Emilie, Beth, and Peter an opportunity to accompany Tahra opening up another world, to add to their repertoire. He’d been so focused on the new recruits and their initiation into the machines rites that he’d almost forgotten The Institute’s residents. They were still contracted at their normal research abode, so he needed to ring Max to request their services. Paul outlined the next objective to Tahra that evening as they relaxed on the sofa. She’d just finished reading a chapter of a text book for the last year of study although she was, at times, distracted by the television.

“In forty eight hours we’ll scout out a new world,” he announced. “You can take Emilie with you.”

Tahra looked at him, not wishing to scupper his enthusiasm.

“I’d like to take a break from the machine,” she said, tentatively.

Paul looked disappointed.

“But I thought you wanted to push the boundaries…” he began.

She took hold of his hand.

“We’ve already done that, we’ve achieved so much already. I just think there comes a time to consolidate before we move on.”

His expression almost pleaded with her.

“We’re so close here. I’m focused on an expedition with all twelve recruits in February, with you as the guide. I need everyone to be an old hand at this by then.”

Tahra squeezed his hand.

“It will happen, there’s no hurry. We don’t have to do everything so fast,” she persuaded.

Paul sighed, realising he couldn’t persuade her easily.

“I’m…just aware of the project’s timescale, I need to show clear and definitive results. I’ve waited all my life to create a project like this, it could be the success of me…papers published and seminars all round the world, a whole new movement. I can’t lose it now.”

Tahra looked at the hunger in his eyes. This project had become the culmination of his life’s work so he’d never let up, he’d push it to its conclusion for better or worse.

“I love you,” he said. “I’d never do anything to harm you, you know that. Trust me.”

“Okay,” she said, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “For you, anything.”

She turned her attention to the television so that she didn’t have to think about the concession she’d just made. An episode of ‘The Twilight Zone’ came on, and she looked at the opening sequence of a spinning door in space, wondering if it was trying to tell her something.

She had to concur, beyond this world lay another dimension of sight and sound, a land of shadow and substance, one of things and ideas. If only the writers of the programme knew. Tahra agreed that she’d just crossed over into the twilight zone.

***

At the end of November 1966, I acted as extra-dimensional guide for Emilie. Nicholas gave her a kiss for good luck and stayed outside to watch. We sat inside the machine, getting familiar with ‘Good Vibrations’ as Paul played it in the main house too, and we wondered what to expect this time. At this stage in the project, Paul was curious to see what results would be produced by shifting the harmonics to the higher end of the range, so it was difficult to predict what kind of world we’d be presented with.

I took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. She still seemed wary of me, but I sensed she started to regard me as someone who can be trusted. Often I wondered why she’d previously disliked me but this day, we put on a professional show and our differences aside, whatever they were.

We soon materialised in yet another world, but one that we soon regretted visiting. This world felt heavy, something like the ‘pea soup’ smogs of
London
in the fifties.
 
It felt as if your consciousness weighed more, if that makes any sense and it depressed me on arrival. It had a bleak and angry look about it. Pointed towers and large, stark trees of twisted metal punctuated the dark landscape, like a dimension based around an old junkyard. Large birds like vultures with huge wingspans dominated the sky, and swooped down frequently to feed.

I gazed at Emilie and noticed that she already looked horrified at the awful place we found ourselves in.

“Well, I guess we should explore now we’re here,” I said.

“I’m not sure if I want to,” she responded.

“I wonder if anyone lives in this world.”

Emilie looked fearful.

“I think there are people here, I can hear their voices inside my head,” she said.

“What are they saying?”

“You don’t want to know,” she answered, “but they know we’re here.”

It took some courage but we focused on one of the towers, zooming our consciousnesses there instantly. Moving inside, we found some of the entities who resided in this world. I saw foul beings that were disfigured and grotesque, covered in pustules and wizened with age. They brutalised other quite amorphous creatures, who were passive participants in the sick torturous practices we witnessed.

We watched as the disfigured creatures took one of the passive participators, who prostrated themselves on the floor, willingly I may add. Then the foul beings pressed a foot into their back for leverage, took hold of their arms and ripped them out of their sockets, listening to their wail of pain with a sense of sheer and utter delight. I heard their bones crunch and split, which made me feel distinctly nauseous. Looking over at Emilie, I saw how equally repulsed she felt. They repeated the action with the legs, and proceeded to mutilate what was left with a huge machete. There was no artistry involved; it was sheer butchery.

I pulled Emilie out of there, and I didn’t want to see it either. We withdrew to a point on the bleak landscape and found a huge bonfire, which we thought may offer some kind of sanctuary but it was just another form of torture. Beings of different kinds were piled on the fire, still alive and they writhed in agony as they burned. For some reason, I empathised with their pain.

Before we knew it, we lost control of our will. We appeared beside one of the twisted metal trees, where we found some creatures bound to it in the most contorted way. Each were suspended by a branch of a tree, which projected through their torso but their limbs had been forced into a series of unnatural positions, and we saw broken bones protruding through their skin. The vulture-like birds swooped down and picked the flesh from their grotesque wounds.

“I want to be sick,” Emilie said.

I grimaced and answered, “I don’t know if extra-dimensional vomit exists, but I think we’re going to invent it soon.”

Near the twisted tree, we saw a metal edifice that stood tall and it had a wheel placed on top, which was slowly rotated. Contorted bodies were woven into the spokes of the wheel, bones protruding through their skin, faces speared with the spokes of the wheel.

Something pulled us away again against our will to see another despicable sight. Inside other towers were scenes of a more sexual nature. Creatures were tied down with what looked like barbed wire while the disfigured, wizened creatures mutilated their genitals with broken pieces of glass. Other creatures bent over while large, hideous objects with jagged edges were inserted into various orifices.

“I can’t take any more,” Emilie said, clearly distressed.

One of the disfigured creatures shuffled over to us. He seemed to be a prominent figure in this world as he wore some kind of robe. He surveyed us intently, but this time I wasn’t the focal point, Emilie was.

“Do you sense the pleasure?” it said.

She shook her head, and I sensed how terrified she felt.

“Pain is pleasure, torture is ecstasy, and the ripping of flesh is the ultimate euphoria. We know your world and its liking for the pleasure of pain.”

It had a horrible, rasping voice and leered at Emilie.

“Our world is nothing like yours,” I interjected.

The creature sneered at me.

“Do your people not murder each other in the most hideously pleasurable ways? Do you not torture your own children with discipline and degrading sexual acts? Do leaders not find ways to exterminate the undesired populations of your country, and enjoy the sense of power that genocide brings? Does your church not rule with an iron rod of guilt and martyrdom, while it bleeds the population for money to feed its own power and gratifies its insatiable need for the sexual domination of young innocents?” It snarled with lust. “Our worlds are closer than you can imagine.”

It refocused its attention on Emilie.

“The people of your world hear us, we’re in their hearts. Some of you are sensitive enough to hear our voices and we can initiate them into the pleasure of pain. They think they’re receiving instructions from God.” it scoffed vehemently. “Our emissaries are increasing in number every day, and there’s always room for one more.” It stared lustfully at Emilie when speaking these words.

Emilie didn’t like what he inferred, because she heard the voices of others. She looked genuinely frightened and I’d been forced out of my comfort zone too. I had no control here, and we were being bounced around as if we were attached to a piece of elastic. It felt like an eternity waiting for the field to power down but finally it did, and this monstrosity of a world faded from view.

“You’ll return,” we heard the rasping voice seethe.

I looked over at Emilie. She’d clasped her head, clearly distressed so I grasped at her.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I can still hear them, they won’t stop!” she responded, beginning to claw at her ears.

I held her in my arms, realising we shouldn’t have gone to that world.

“Shut them out,” I suggested, panicking.

“They’re in my head!” she almost screamed. “Make them stop!”

Nicholas rushed in and took hold of her hands, then made her look him in the eye. Once he did this, she began to calm down.

“You can make them stop,” he said, calm and loving. “Imagine a door closing.”

“The voices…” she began.

“Are under your control,” he added.

That day, he saved Emilie, he became her rock. Once I realised she was going to be all right, I moved over to the cine camera so that the journey could be evidenced.

“I think we just found Hell,” I summarised.

***

I began to feel like I was reaching my limits, although my concerns fell on deaf ears. Paul saw Emilie’s predicament as a glitch, and didn’t realise how close she had come to pulling out of the project. He insisted I take Beth and Peter to a new world, as we needed to catalogue as many different realms as we could.

“I couldn’t cope with finding another place like the one we just visited,” I informed him.