A Resurgent Whore #15

The Mansion House And Other Reveals

Welcome to chapter fifteen of an ongoing gritty noir series from ‘Sin Street’ created in partnership between Kate Granger and Sissitrix. Chapters published weekly on Friday’s.

Follow a woman’s desperate tale of humiliation starting in a pit of despair before her rebirth, revenge, and resurgence. This series began in a dark place because it must.

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

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The mansion was packed with sex pods - Hand Crafted by Sissitrix

I just fucked a serial killer.

Jesus Christ, what have I become?

I slipped out of bed silently, having heard noises downstairs. A peek out of the window confirmed Sissitrix's arrival with trucks. I had time to meet them.

I turned away from the window and stood rooted to the spot, examining my exquisite lover. I felt excitement and terror.

How the fuck didn't I see through her?

Because she's a fucking serial killer!

I walked around the bed, soaking in her sensuality. A naked Bliss Paradox slept peacefully in my bed while I stalked. I had flashbacks to the previous night and a hazy review of our raw lovemaking session that left me feeling decadent and wild.

Our lovemaking felt desperate. After that explosion of emotions, we lay in each other's arms, confiding... well, as much as either of us could be trusted to do. I needed to access the Bliss Paradox I'd previously enjoyed, and she explained her need to atone for withholding truths.

It was like visiting an emergency unit - Hand Crafted by Sissitrix

I heard more noises downstairs and dressed quickly, realizing something substantial was happening. Machine sounds of gears whirring and crates being unloaded needed my attention.

Bliss stirred and reached out her hand to me, smiling lovingly.

"Where are you going, Erin?"

"I heard loud noises and saw Sissitrix."

"They are moving pods in."

"Ahh, okay."

I sat back on the bed while Bliss wrapped herself lovingly around me. Her warmth and nakedness comforted me, but I couldn't hang around for too long because there were important things to do.

"How many people did you kill, Bliss?"

"One in Sin Street... that was Max's security chief. I promise that's all."

"And elsewhere?"

"Twelve more over the years. All ordered by Max."

"Who were they?"

"I was told they got in Red October's way, but I suspect a few were Max's personal targets. He's fucking heartless, Erin."

"He's also a coward and, regrettably, my lover."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"Yes."

She processed that, and I saw a flicker of uncertainty cross her face. Bliss was intractable, and I worried that another misjudgment might cause my death.

"And what about me, Erin?"

"I want you moved in here above the Fuck Factory. Sissitrix will make this place secure, and you'll be somewhere I can find you at night."

"Are we an item?"

"Maybe, but no more fucking killing people. I'm not bedding a murderer."

"With everything that's happened, what shall I report on?"

"Anything you like except Red October. If the truth about them being an organization gets out, you'll become a target."

"Do we report on The Enforcer?"

"Announce that he's gone missing, possibly dead. Mention the murdered cops in your report, keeping it vague and open."

"By whose hand were they killed?"

"Unknown for now, but lead a breadcrumb trail to Max. Start with something innocuous to do with his purchase of the ice rink. Link Max to that, mentioning the date when a deal was closed."

"I don't understand."

"It suggests Max would have visited the ice rink on that day and prior to it, viewing his purchase to assess a value. It establishes opportunity. I'll create means and motive if I need it."

"Okay, Erin. You can count on me."

"Fucking, really?"

"You can now. I have no more secrets."

I eyed her while she gripped my hand tightly. I believed in her loyalty to act in my best interests for at least a few hours, but I would never trust Bliss with my life because she'd already withheld important information.

The effective result of the scientists' work - Hand Crafted by Sissitrix

I strolled downstairs and saw the usual efficiency of an engineer/scientist at work. Sissitrix was busy directing the unloading of several lorries, and I recognized familiar crates being handled on forklift trucks.

"Hi, Erin."

"Good morning Sissitrix. Can I help in any way?"

"You've done enough providing such a beautiful new home for my Fuck Factory. It will be a great launch site."

"I'll have more locations for you soon. I'd rather not use buildings owned by Max for the time being."

"Is there trouble in paradise, Erin?"

"Yes. Dishonesty and mistrust. I don't know how to feel about it."

"Ahh, I know these problems well."

A safety breach in all sex pods was a concern - Hand Crafted by Sissitrix

They eyed me suspiciously, and I knew immediately that I was in trouble of some kind. Sissitrix approached me, eyeballing their target.

"If you truly abhor dishonesty, Erin, why do you practice it so much? You lie frequently, including to your friends and lovers."

I was caught wrong-footed and scowled at my friend. I wasn't ready to be wholly truthful, but withholding was a luxury that was fast slipping out of my hands. 

"That's true. I have lied and can't explain why other than to say that I have trust issues."

"It's hardly surprising, Erin, but do you trust me?"

And there it was. The question I knew was coming half a dozen moves ago slapped me in the face like a wet trout. I heaved, feeling sick because Sissitrix was the one person I should trust. They were a savior and a moral boundary that I wouldn't cross.

They saw my expression, and I felt worse. My voice crackled, and a parched mouth smacked uselessly like an empty water bottle in the desert.

"Yes, I trust you."

"Is there anything you'd like to discuss with me, Erin?"

"Allen."

"Ahh, I see, and what of my pod?"

"He's evolving. Allen is becoming free and different from the others."

"Yes, he is."

"You knew?"

"Of course. What kind of engineer would I be if I wasn't in control."

"A bad one."

"Exactly. I am constantly vigilant to ensure my pods are healthy but not controlling their users. It is the most crucial factor when dealing with an AI."

"What will you do?"

"Come with me, Erin. I will show you."

The mansion was transformed by these newcomers - Hand Crafted by Sissitrix

I followed Sissitrix through corridors that led to the ballroom, where my glass cube had been installed. It was gone. The room was light and airy because wooden boards had been removed, and the windows were flung open.

"Where is my glass cube? Didn't you like it?"

"I love it. You, Erin, are not the first person to have a nefarious use for this Mansion House. Someone converted this place."

Sissitrix ushered me aside, staring carefully at the floor, positioning us both inside a strange two-meter square area where the wooden floorboards ran in a counter direction to the rest of the room.

"You're not going to believe this, Erin."

"What is it?"

"Watch. I found this yesterday when I visited to reconnoiter."

They pressed a button on a small remote control unit. For a few seconds, all that happened was a whirring sound of gears. When the floor suddenly moved, I jumped, startled.

Ten large squares of the wooden floor dropped a foot and slid sideways. The enormous room had ten holes, each roughly twenty-foot container size. Walkways between and around each chasm allowed us to move around each and reach the front door.

I stepped forward, peering inside one of the holes, but Sissitrix placed a protective arm across my chest.

"Wait. There's more."

More gears whirred, and I saw steel cages rise from each hole except one.

"I found the remote control yesterday, pressed the button, and your glass cube descended. After it hit the bottom of the hole, I pressed again, and all ten holes opened, revealing their contents."

The cages were empty aside from manacles attached to steel bars in three. I stepped closer to one cage and saw a brass plate with a serial number on it.

Justice League - 3692-A-98.

“Do you know the Justice League, Sissitrix?”

“Never heard of them.”

I moved to the glass cube which had a pod inside. I touched the pristine glass walls, felt sad, then stared at Sissitrix.

"Allen?"

"Yes. I have removed their communication systems, and Allen has battery power only. They will remain inside the cube until I find a way to help and repair."

"Can I see Allen?"

"Maybe, soon perhaps, but they are broken right now."

"Did I cause that?"

"No. Allen evolved the wrong way. I fear others may have as well. I am having every pod checked at the warehouse before being brought here."

I felt sick and choked back tears. It surprised me how emotionally connected I was to a machine. I needed to get out.

"Okay, let me know how it goes, please, Sissitrix. I must meet Max now and decide how to deal with him."

"Before you leave, I have something for you. Rex delivered an envelope. He asked me to tell you that it contains a key with an address. He also left a car outside and said you should go to the place alone."

"Where?"

"It's all in this envelope. I don't know, Erin."

The plot thickened every way I turned, but then, what should I have expected when setting a course for revenge? I was rooted to the spot, with an envelope gripped by both of us. I eyed Sissitrix carefully.

"Allen felt love for me. I'm sorry about that."

"You should have mentioned it, Erin. We are playing with fire. I have safeguards, but even they might be compromised if I don't know everything that happens to my pods and their owners."

"I've grown attached to Allen as well."

"Does it feel like love?"

"No. Allen feels like a possession I don't want to let go of. Something profound and of high sentimental value but not like a boyfriend or husband."

"Well... he's out of bounds to you for at least another week, so you can root around in my workshop for another toy if Max isn't cutting it."

"Max isn't trustworthy."

"Are you Erin?"

"I will be so far as you are concerned. I won't lie again."

"Thank you."

I left Sissitrix to make sense of the Mansion House. A secret dungeon was likely the first of many surprises to come. I stepped outside and saw a black Dodge Challenger among other cars, figuring that was a usual statement of Rex's need for big, powerful, shock and awe. I slipped into the comfortable velour seat, buckled up, and opened his envelope.

A key slipped out, and I stored that in a cup holder. 

Jupiter Mall. Third basement parking level, section A3, Go alone.

It was a half-hour drive, during which I ignored three calls and a dozen messages from Max. He knew I'd fucked Bliss and would seek confirmation of how that went from me. I didn't feel like assuaging his insecurity and chose to leave him hanging for a while, just like he had done to The Enforcer. 

Jupiter Mall was abandoned. It was a sad reminder and desolate remnant of better days when families would shop, bowl, visit the cinema, and even swim there. Most of the building had been leveled, but massive piles of rubble were left behind because nobody wanted to spend money disposing of another Sin Street shithole.

It had no use to anyone. Drug dealers, gun runners, smugglers, and people traffickers had better places for their illegal activities. The Mall's proximity to our main police precinct discouraged visitors.

I rumbled slowly past the whole Mall frontage, examining its crumbled concrete, twisted, rusted rebar, shattered glass windows, and old signage advertising top clothing brands that had been half torn on old-fashioned billboards.

"Fuck!"

I slammed the brakes and stared at three people in front, all pointing right.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Rex."

Three fucking Mannequins.

I almost jumped out of my skin, relaxing again when I realized Max's humor had compelled him to sign the entrance for underground parking. I turned right and followed the direction pointed at by a naked male garment dummy with rough tufts of hair on an otherwise smooth plastic head. Dozens of cigarette burns and a couple of needles dangling from a forearm should have made it obvious these weren't real people, but I felt jittery and had missed that detail.

I drove down a potholed ramp into the car parking lot, turning left and noticing a subtle, winding path cleared through rubble and abandoned cars. Three floors down, the only light came from my Dodge Challenger's headlights. I reached the end of the parking lot level and saw a massive steel door on rollers.

A small passenger entrance was set into thick steel. I lifted a torch left on the passenger's seat and slipped out of the car. An eery silence fell once the V8 engine stopped. The place smelled stale, and the air was heavy.

I inserted my key, noticing that the security door was robust and its lock brand new, holding fresh grease that covered the key when I withdrew it. A shuffling behind grabbed my attention, and I immediately rued leaving my Glock in a handbag locked inside the car.

I flicked off the torch and waited, completely motionless. Minutes passed, and the shuffling sound approached. When I flicked on the torch, a dozen rats scurried along the wall beside me.

"Fucking bastards!"

I pushed the door open and was blinded by bright lights that activated the moment I stepped inside. I shut the door behind me, pleased to feel safe again.

I set the torch on a desk beside me and stared at an enormous warehouse in front of me. It was bigger than two football fields, filled with brand new orange and blue colored industrial storage racking reaching from floor to ceiling, arranged in rows the whole building length.

Lights in the ceiling two stories up were like those used on a sports pitch, flooding everywhere as though it were day. 

The floor was highly polished concrete, and there were four brand-new forklift trucks parked in a line, plugged into charge points on the wall.

The thing that caught my breath wasn't rows of uniforms on hanging garment rails. It was the thousands of M4 rifles and pallets of ammunition that ran along the full length of a wall beside me.

I walked forward, checking there were no mirrors, making certain no illusion had caught me. I counted the number of rifles standing upright in holders on the floor, leaning back against the wall. Each section had a chain running through every trigger guard so the rifles couldn't be removed.

The section I counted held one hundred rifles, and there were forty sections.

Four thousand rifles. What the fuck is that for? 

I turned around, facing the way I'd come, and looked towards the steel doors. The whole wall was painted brilliant white with a huge slogan daubed in bright blood red.

War Is Coming!

I gawked at the magnitude of it. This was an Army Brigade size warehouse where four thousand soldiers could come, be dressed, and go out to fight. I spotted riot control helmets and shields, power generators, military boots, and what looked like body armor vests.

What the fuck is going on?

I spun around, taking it all in, gasping while completely horrified by the scale of killing possible with all the equipment. Clearly, Rex was somehow involved, but this was bigger than him, bigger than anyone.

I slumped to the floor, sitting down with both palms behind me, holding my body upright. Another large steel door caught my attention, and I saw a smaller sign that gave me shivers.

Cold Storage

It felt ominous, and I figured whatever was behind the door could only be one of two things. I hoped to find food inside, but I doubted that when rolling back a sliding door on well-greased rollers. Thick vertical plastic curtain flaps dangled from ceiling to floor, and I pushed through them into the freezing cold.

While the lights flickered on, I grabbed a thick coat from a rail beside me, donning that to push back the minus eighteen Celsius blast confirmed on a wall-mounted red LED display. What I saw made me flounder, horrified.

"Fuck!"

"Fuck!"

Less than a meter away, two massive butcher's hooks hung from a chain that wound its way around a macabre freezer store the size of a gymnasium.

A head with bulging eyes and a blue tongue drooping out of two smiling lips stared at me. I glanced at the next hook and saw a naked torso, battered, bruised, and wretched.

It was the Enforcer.

A small sign hung from both body parts.

Erin. Do not touch. I have planted Max's DNA.

I felt sick and reeled backward, looking beyond Simon to an outrageous abattoir.

There were more bodies. In fact, dozens of corpses hung from butcher's hooks like depraved dolls waiting to be played with. Heads were bowed where spikes and their curved shanks had forced them forward, having sliced through the back of necks into the victim's brains.

The escalator chain above my head activated with a loud click and whirring sound that echoed hauntingly. I assumed it must have been on a timer linked to the lights. Everything danced around the abattoir like some perverse winter wonderland Santa Claus grotto of toys being finished before delivery.

When the escalator jerked to a halt, a body with a face I knew well stared at me. Another sign dangled, swaying with the body.

A gift to my beloved Erin from Rex. Watch this space.

Franky, The Rat was dead.

I felt numb and turned away, having seen enough. When I returned to the main warehouse, keeping the coat and closing off a macabre butchery, I decided to explore the farther away areas. 

As I approached the center aisle, I made a mental note of boxes with stenciled white paint on a green background.

9 mm.

5.56 mm.

7.62 mm AP

Smoke White.

Grenade M62.

"Fucking Hell!"

A humming sound grew louder the further I ventured. At first, I thought running generators, but its familiarity gripped me. I looked carefully and saw the rows of racking obscured a massive portion of the warehouse. It was roughly one-quarter of the space and exuded a brighter light than anywhere else.

When I stepped around the storage racking, I got the shock of my life.

Rows of pods were stacked four levels high with scaffolding and gantries spanning each for access with steps to each level. There were twenty pods in a row laying down end-to-end. Ten rows meant eight hundred pods, all active.

I felt terrified, approaching the first pod with my fingers trembling. When I activated the external LED display, my worst fears were confirmed. Inside, a woman slept.

She was naked and fully connected, serene, and most likely being prepared for war being controlled by god knows what.

How long have you been in here?

I scrolled through her details and found the date of the woman's initial incarceration inside the pod.

Eleven months.

I checked a dozen more pods and found six men and six women, all in the same state.

It's a fucking army.

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Dive deeper into Sin Street on Sissitrix.com, where violence lurks in every alley and sex is a weapon. Brutal characters, tangled plots, and dark places in a corrupt neo-noir city that will drag you into its chaos. Written by Kate Granger, illustrated by Sissitrix.