Sylver’s Case Book

Cling, clang. An all-too-familiar sound clangs within the cell, an eight by eight concrete chamber allowed for the worst of echoes when skeleton key is twisted, the iron ring full of assorted keys tap into the door. A life form within this very cage loosens from its padding tucked into the corner, what no one would consider a bed but this one had nested.

'Case number 42, I was called upon by students of the Northern Peace University, science department junkies who seem to have run amuck of an experiment.'

“How long has it been since he was affected by the attack?” An unfamiliar voice is heard as the door scrapes open. The life form peels from the remainder of the nest, on all fours retreating to the back corner where light does not touch from the doorway. Not even a window is supplied for the being, the cells within the basement of the laboratory were created to keep dangers, creatures and the unexpected. Windows were a comfort, a human or even animal comfort for an internal clock, knowing when it’s daytime or night. No, not for this one, a colleague for a time to the two young men who lead me to the chamber, now classified as an “unexpected”. Unable to safely keep among others, too dangerous for even the animal pens kept on the higher levels. Chains rattle across the floor, bolted to the wall, dangling down to the floor, enough length to keep it within the cell and no further.

“It has been three weeks sir, it has come down to whether or not to stop feeding him so he doesn’t get any stronger and well calling you in to assess the situation.” A familiar voice answers.

“Lantern…” the unfamiliar voice says, the light swings, the lantern illuminates every dimple in the concrete, the nest in the corner and the being, the life form they once called…

“Fredrick? I’d like to speak with you.” The unfamiliar voice says as a boot enters the room just beyond the frame of the door. Fredrick screams an agonizing scream, his form is but of loose skin sagging like wet curtains. His eyes have turned gray, his mouth droops as every word he says is a struggle. 

“Away! Away! Don’t look at me…” The lantern is turned away to give Fredrick comfort and a chance to talk. A gurgling noise comes from the darkness as wet, sloppy flesh can be heard hitting the wall.

“Why… why… why, have you done this to me?” Fredrick speaks from the corner unwilling to enter the light.

“What have they done to you?” The unfamiliar voice asks as his other boot enters the room, filling the doorway the man commits and enters knowing full well what Fredrick has down.

“I want to help you, if they have hurt you or treated you in such a manner as to cause discomfort it was because of your actions, to protect themselves.” The man says handing the lantern off to one of the young men within the hallway outside the room.

“Don’t trust them, they did this to me, you understand?” Fredrick pleads, but the man stands firm with authority. His getup is one of an educated man, maybe working below his pay grade at this very moment Fredrick suspects.

‘After meeting the young man within the holding chamber I knew he was far too gone to help medically. Modern medicine does not dabble in the dark arts, but it seems that a university science department does.’

“You have transformed Fredrick, beyond what any of your colleagues expected, what happened in the laboratory? What happened to Katie?” The man asks while kneeling. The chains loosen on the concrete floor, Fredrick’s face appears in the faint light, a grim oozing face that wasn’t able to be read. He was but a ghoul in appearance, how does one surmise a good ghoul from a bad one. Was it at this point in his transformation that there was no going back, that he, Fredrick, a once exemplary student here, now would forever be… this?

The man stood, watching Fredrick’s eyes stare deep into his own as if he was reaching into them to grasp his very soul. Deadly eyes, Katie knew all too well.

'What was told to me by the science students was beyond sadistic, beyond comprehension for what young Katie experienced that fateful day. It turns my stomach to think of such a gruesome act.'



“I need to hear it from you, I’m speaking to Fredrick, tell me what happened.” The man says, back against the wall.

"It hurts to speak sir, I need you to come closer," Fredrick asks the man.

“I will not.” The man says sternly. His hand now behind his back fingering the grip of his pistol, knowing what he had seen within those eyes. The gray colours swirl in the iris as if worms from the abyss wriggled within.

“If you don’t hear me, they’ll do it to you as well. Why do you think they called you in?” Fredrick’s voice was of a demon within the darkness, his eyes shown through unnaturally. The man turns towards the door but it is slammed shut. The two young men who brought the man to the cell fumble with the keys to lock it as a gunshot rings out within the cell, then another shot which comes through the door hitting the one with the keys. The door is kicked open, pistol aimed down the hallway as the other runs for their life. A cough from the man who lay on the floor clutching his wound. Fredrick lay within the light now with a bullet wound to the head.

“Maybe you want to start talking?” The man says to the wounded foe. Night turns to day as the man combs through the texts and books utilized in what had happened. A fire is lit within a barrel, the works of dark tinkerers go up in smoke.

‘Tis what I expected, nearly fallen into a diabolical trap, the wounded man told me what I needed to know, the other who got away, he was dispatched on a later date.’

-Notes from Sylver’s Case Book.