The Mysterious Occurrences in Wakefield, USA

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Foreboding Foreign Bodies

Simon scanned across the board room, and scrutinized the men sitting with him. The men were older and intimidating, sitting in tall black leather chairs. The meeting had been running over time and he just wanted it to be over…but after a few moments of slight chair shifts, someone began to speak. He was in his late 40’s. A large, balding man with a bushy beard that gave him a scholarly look.

“Maybe I am being too cautious, and I don’t enjoy bringing things up in meetings that have already been discussed before.” The board members were tired from the long meeting, and already knew what Arthur was going to bring up. “I’ll make things short. I have again found that the weight of our trash that we ship to West Fort has been decreasing for a while now.” Simon shifted in his chair; Arthur had been getting closer to finding out the truth about where the trash had been disappearing to, Simon had to try to steer the conversation to an end.

“Arthur, we know. You’ve been saying this for the last five meetings. So if you could get to the point.” Arthur squeezed his index finger and thumb together, to stay calm.

“I feel we’re missing more parts and scraps that we should be, my problem is that these missing parts could be going to God knows where; and if people get their hands on this tech, they could make their own.” The men began to murmur to one another. They were interested, and Arthur knew it. “And if that’s true, people could be making their own cybernetics, which could severely cut into our own profits.” That caught the board member’s attention. Simon couldn’t have this man diving into information that could lead back to him.

“ Well if that’s true, why have our profits been better than ever? I say we let this go and stop wasting our time on half baked theories with no data behind them.” Arthur saw the men nodding in agreement. He took a deep breath and began to stroke his beard bitterly.

“I suppose it was presumptuous of me to go to such lengths with no true evidence for my claim, but I have a gut feeling about this, and my instinct has gotten me this far in life. I’m sure something is amiss here.” “We all have our own feelings, Arthur, but your feelings are the only things that are keeping us in this stuffy board room. I think we are all in agreement that this meeting is over.” The men looked at their neighbors, nodded, and in unison said,

“Agreed.”

They all shook hands and gradually left the building. They drove off and Simon was alone in the parking lot. He climbed into his car and drove to the docking station where all the broken cybernetic tech and unused scraps were. Open the garage door and saw Arthur, standing in a of the pile of the miscellaneous parts.

“Jesus Arthur, you nearly gave me a heart attack”

“Simon, what are you doing here after everyone has already left? Looking for something?” Simon swallowed nervously. He had to think of something quickly.

“What you said in the meeting actually peaked my interest. I thought I would check it out.” Simon waited for a response.

“Really? You didn’t seem so interested during the meeting.”

“I just wanted to get everyone out of the building, you know how insufferable that room gets after 5 hours of talking.” Arthur walked through the parts and patted Simon on his shoulder.

“You’re right. I’m going to go. My wife will be worried sick if I stayed too late.” Arthur sat at the ledge of the dock and slid his body to the ground.

“Do you want me to give you a report on anything I find?” Simon wanted to make sure that it sounded like he was actually going to investigate.

“No, there is no need to. Goodnight Simon.” With a wave he climbed into his car and drove off.

Perfect, Simon thought. He looked around and grabbed the two cardboard boxes from his car, and began to fill them with parts and scraps...He looked at his watch and saw that is was 8:23 p.m. Perfect timing; he took the two full boxes to the trunk of this car and slid them into the back. Simon then sat into the passenger seat of his car and put his destination into the self driving controls -Ward Station in West Fort-...

“You are at your destination,” the car rung out. Simon opened his eyes and got of his car, to stretched his stiff limbs. He retrieved the boxes full of stolen tech and walked towards the abandoned underground subway entrance.

Simon has been stealing old, unused tech from his company for some time, selling the parts in the Weird Underground so that they could make black market items for the poor in West Fort and Knoxville. It began with necessity; Simon was a worker in the assembly factory, which didn’t really pay for his studio apartment in East Fort. He heard whispers of some sort of underground society filled with people who had gratuitous body modifications and ways to get cash quick.

Wakefield’s most crazy and discarded people decided to make it the place where weirdos from all around could join and be different together. It was a little over 5 years ago that he decided to see if this “Weird Underground” was a real thing or not.


A nervous 21 year old Simon began walking into the more seedy parts of West Fort. Fresh out of college and sinking in debt, he was desperate for money and would reach for every string he possibly could. The string he grabbed this time led him to the abandoned Ward station in West Fort, the 2nd poorest city in Wakefield and a complete reversal from his life in East Fort.

There it was, the entrance to the fabled Weird Underground, a set of stairs leading to the abandoned subway stations. Above the entrance was a rusted and graffitied sign that originally spelled “Ward Station.” He was desperate and had no other option, he’d come this far, so he might has well go down. He slowly stepped towards the entrance, and began the dissension to the Underground.

At first, it just seemed like an abandoned underground subway tunnel. His black loafers skated on the ground, and every muscle in his body was tight with tension. His eyes darted from left to right scanning the area for any danger.

His briefcase was held close to his chest and he curled his fingers around the cold, leathery edges. His briefcase press against his chest, allowing him to feel the push, in and out, of every breath he took of the stale underground air. Every corner was moist, dark, and oozed out a sense of danger, then he saw something in the distance. Contrasting from the overall debris and grimy look of the underground subway tunnels was a large gate, guarded by two tall, muscular men with threatening glares.

“I, um, well...is this the Weird Underground?” Simon’s palms began to get clammy as the two towering men began to slowly take steps towards him.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Who wants to know?” “Well, I heard that there was someone down here named Eli Spade or something like that, I heard you could do business with him.” The men looked at each other and laughed, Simon nervously stared at the ground.

“Wait here, boy.” They walked back to the gate, and the left guard pushed a few buttons on his walkie talkie and began to speak in it. Simon was so far away, he could only catch a few words. “...business...we got a Eastie...wanted to talk... Bartholomew’s...” The conversation was over and the guard who was on the right walked up to Simon. “Alright, you may go see Mr. Spade.” The right guard opened the gate and Simon began to walk forward. “Would you like me to escort you to Mr. Spade?” Simon froze.

“No, no it fine.” Simon continued to walk and made a left turn.

“He’s on the right side!” The left guard shouted. Simon slowly peered at the guard behind the wall, his legs shivering.

“Could you please…take me to see Mr.Spade please?” Simon’s head hung low and he blushed with embarrassment.

“Ok, follow me.” The left guard began to walk and Simon followed closely behind the man. “There are three deadly important things you need to know about the Weird Underground ok?” Simon shook his head and began to form words, but the guard already started to talk. “There are three areas, led by three different people: Caw, the leader of protection. Gem, who works with magic, potions, and charms. Bartholomew, he’s the head of the blackmarket who leads the production of illegal tech and surveillance. Don’t cross those people or their associates if you value your life, but everyone else is fair game.” The bodyguard’s chuckle was deep and comforting.

Before Simon knew it, he was in a crowd of people and make-shift shops, but the people were what really caught Simon’s eye: there were people with patches of clear skin, huge ear gauges, dyed or shaved hair, no teeth, pierced eye lids, mouths, belly buttons, fingers, ears, pierced everywhere.

His classmates in college, who’d brag about getting a small black tattoo on their back, felt like nothing compared to what he’s just seen. Simon peered across the crowd to see kids, old people and everything in between. A community so different, yet similar, it was fantastic. The guard was still droning on about something, but a specific man caught his eye. He was sitting on a box and holding a snowglobe. He had a cardboard sign that read “Psychic Warrick, The near sighted foreseer.

“Who is that guy?” Simon looked towards the guard for an answer.

“How on Earth would I know kid. People kind of just...show up. Most of the people here do that, they just, show up. Then Sometimes they just leave. That’s the Underground for ya’!” He laughed, it felt nostalgic to Simon.

“I want to talk to the psychic, you can go on back to the gate if you--” Simon turned around to see that the guard was already gone. Simon’s eyes searched, but the guard was nowhere to be seen. He walked up to the psychic.

“Hello, my name is Simon. How are you doing?” The psychic grinned at the him and then begin to speak.

“ Death! Death! Death, a horrible death is in your future! Press the red button! Do it or you will die!” Simon was petrified.

“Well, when is this going to happen? Can I...um...choose not to die?” Simon waited for a response as the psychic reached into a large box and retrieved a golden hookah. He took a very drawn out hit and spewed smoke at Simon’s face.

“What do you smell?” The psychic licked his plump lips and stared at Simon

“I smell...lavender? Is that a good sign?” The psychic stared into the snowglobe, deep in thought.

“Press the button, when you smell lavender, the red button. Unless you prefer to die, but you must know to avoid your own death is to cause another’s! Death, death! Death! Death! Death? Yes, death! Press, press a button, not any button! The red button!” Simon slowly took a few steps away from the psychic, then began to run. He had no clue what that creep was talking about and he had no intention to stay and find out...After a few more minutes of running, he came to a large glowing, metal shop.

Simon looked at the technology, all handmade stuff, a lot more archaic than the cybernetics he’d been working with. He saw a cloth hanging from the ceiling in front of a door frame, he moved the curtain aside to find the back room where a man was sitting at a desk. He was completely bald with green scales tattooed on his shoulders peeking from under his tank top.

“Come, sit. I heard you had some business with me.” His artificially-split tongue flicked in this mouth, caressing every word that he spoke. Simon told him his situation and how he needed money.

“So, you work in the Venus assembly factory in East Fort, huh. You must have come a long way to get here. So, show me what you got.” The suitcase that Simon had been holding onto so tightly had the model of a new line of smart watches that were dated to come out in a few months.

“This, is the Vega Smartwatch Mega. It has more storage space, better reception, and better connectability than any smartwatch in all of America. What will you give me for them?” Simon slid the suitcase around to face Eli and his eyes widened. Maybe it was due to the dark green color, but Simon saw dollar signs in his eyes.

“Well, Mr. Carter, I think 3,000 dollars sounds fairs. I think we are going to have a very long and fruitful business relationship.” Eli reached out his callused hand and Simon paused. He felt like he was signing his soul away to the devil, but it was either this or go back to living with his brother in God knows where.

“Then it’s a deal.” Simon reached and shook hands with the mysterious man, he took the watches out of the brief case and gave it to him. In return, Eli reached from under his desk and gave Simon large stacks of cash. Simon took the money and stuffed it into his briefcase. The suitcase felt heavy in Simon’s smooth hands, they felt full of sin and guilt. He nodded and began to head out of the store.

“It was good doing business with you, Mr. Carter, and welcome to The Weird Underground!”

After over a year of late night visits to the Weird Underground, Simon was all too familiar with it: the smell, the moisture, the feel. He walked up to the guards and, without a word, they opened the doors. By now, of course, they’ve had several different guards, ‘sometimes they just leave. That’s the Underground for ya’.

Simon found the tech shop he was so used to. Instead of talking to Eli, though, he talked directly to Fig. Fig was the new Bartholomew and had smiled when he saw him walk in, they shook hands. The hand was new, but familiar, worked but fresh.

Simon finished the usual deal with Fig, and he left with a box full of cash. While he was walking back, he sifted through odd smelling the box and saw a watch at the bottom of the pile of cash. It was An Undertoner, the watch Eli Spade made with the model Simon had given him so many years ago. Simon was beaming, to finally be connected to all the veterans of the underground. He climbed up the stairs to the entrance to The Weird Underground, and saw Arthur standing, arms crossed, next to his car.

“What a coincidence seeing you here, Simon. So, what are you doing in a dump like West Fort?”

“How did you find me?” Simon knew that Arthur being there was no coincidence.

“Well, maybe you should check your shoulder.” Simon turned her head to see a reflective blue tracking stick that was placed behind his shoulder. “So, Simon. What are you doing here?”

“I was--”

“Bullshit!” Arthur exclaimed, cutting off any excuse that Simon could muster. “I knew that something weird was going on. I knew that cybernetics parts were missing, and I finally have proof. It was you all along stealing parts to sell in this shady subway station.”

Well, at least Arthur didn’t know about the Weird Underground. Simon thought.

“ ...and you’re going to go to jail, man. Embezzling from the company, selling to some sort of...whatever I have you now!” Arthur’s face was entirely red and his eyes were bloodshot.

“And you know what? You have been giving me hell for months! No one ever listened to me because of you! I fucking hate every single one of you bastards, just pushing away my ideas and my proposals. You just want my job, you’re trying to make me look bad. You...you...devil!” Arthur was spiraling out of control. His index finger was pressed to his thumb, the fingers were bloody.

“You know what, screw The Venus Association, screw those board members, and most of all screw you! I’ll deal with you myself! I am a star! I am big and round and glow brighter than everything, yes! How could it take me this long to notice that I am a star? And stars crush what get in its way!” Arthur ran to his car and started it. His eyes were focused on Simon and he stomped on the gas pedal. Simon’s eyes widened and quickly, he rolled out of the way of the car. Arthur stepped on the gas pedal, but his car was stalled. He violently fought the stick shift controls. The box of money fell like rain and it smelled... smelled unusual. Simon looked through to find a watch under the pile of money, it was the source of the smell, it smelled strongly of lavender. Simon’s mind flashed back to his first trip to the Weird Underground...he tried to remember why lavender was so important.

Then it hit him Death! Death? Yes, death! Press, press a button, not any button! The red button! Simon searched the watch and found a small red button and pushed it...nothing happened.

Arthur finally turned the car around, smashing into a trash can, spilling its contents onto the ground. He stepped on the gas pedal and drove his car jaggedly towards Simon. Simon stood covered in sweat and grime, waiting for the car to get close enough that he could dodge it. He waited until he saw the rage-filled face of Arthur, then rolled to the left towards the underground entrance, but it wasn’t enough. Arthur’s car drifted, and the back wheel ran over Simon’s right foot.

Simon felt nothing but a dull pulsing from his foot, his blood is pumping and adrenaline is speeding through his body. The side of Arthur’s car rammed into the side of the Subway entrance. Simon had to think of something before his luck ran out and Arthur really hits him.

Just then, Caw, and a group of his gang members came out of the Underground entrance wearing a black leather uniform. Arthur reversed the car out of the entrance’s side and began to laugh hysterically.

Simon tried to form words, his voice shaking, “He’s...trying to...run me over! The guy’s completely insane!”

Arthur revved his engine and prepared for another charge. Caw gave a signal for his henchmen to get Simon to safety, then he calmly walked in front of Arthur’s car. A light floral scent wafted from Caw’s clothes.

“I’ll deal with his manic alright Simon.”

“Lavender? Do you smell like lavender?”

“Just shut up and let me deal with this guy!” Simon shut his mouth and Arthur shrieks in rage.

“Get out of my way! Ahahahaha! Ahahahahaha, actually don’t. A great big ball of gas like me needs to kill more people to become a true star, to burn even brighter!” Arthur laughed as he accelerated towards Caw. Caw’s sharp, light blue eyes focused on preparing to dodge at the last moment. His metal hand reached in his pocket and retrieved a Beretta 72 handgun with a silencer. Caw stood as the car drove towards him, his muscles tensed and eyes laser focused.

Arthur screaming in joy. “Yes! Yes! Finally I am a--”

Caw slid to the left. He swung his gun to the side of the car and opened fire. Caw shot four rounds; two hit the front tire and the other two hit the back wheel. The car to slid out of control and then drove over a large dirt ramp. The car flew into the air and landed roof first onto the ground. The windows of the car all shattered on impact. There was silence. They all watched the car to see whether or not Arthur had survived the crash, and sure enough, Arthur’s arm reached out the car and begin to slowly drag his body free. Simon saw Caw walk towards Arthur.

“Caw! Don’t kill him.” Caw stopped.

“So, you really want this maniac to live for another day? You know he’s still dangerous, right?” As Caw said that, Arthur had half of his body out of the car’s side window. His veins were engorged, and he had foamy saliva covering his mouth. He had a large gash on the side of his face, and his hands were covered in cuts from the shattered windows.

“I’ll kill you, Simon, even if I have to burn you alive with my solar power!” Arthur had gone insane, he continued to yell about being a literal star and burning everything in a solar flare.

“Caw, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

“Then just stop all of this violence, please just call the police!” Caw’s crew began to laugh.

“We are the police, at least we are in West Fort!” They grabbed each other’s shoulders and laughed again at Simon’s statement. Caw walked closer to Arthur and raised his gun, ready to pull the trigger. Simon’s mind was racing so fast, he had to think of something to stop Caw, then he remembered.

“He has a wife Caw! Arthur has a wife!” Caw slowly turned his head to face Simon, his face was dirty and his leather jacket was torn. Caw stroked a bottle of pills in his pocket.

“So do I.” Caw lowered his gun and shot the last three rounds into Arthur. He let out a screech of pain and then his head fell down in defeat. Simon’s eyes were filled with terror, as he saw the car seep with Arthur’s blood.

“No! No!...no...no...” Arthur may have tried to kill him, Simon thought, but they worked together for years, and for Simon it was disturbing to see him go in such a violent manner.

Simon began to feel dizzy, his chest was tight and his breathing was irregular. Caw saw Simon hyperventilating and reached into his pocket for a half empty bottle of pills. Simon saw the silver and blue label reading Sleeping pills.

“Here, take one.” Caw ordered. Simon sat up in refusal.

“Why do you have sleeping pills, Ca--” Caw took two pills and shoved them into Simon’s mouth, his throat was too damaged and tired to refuse. His head and eyelids felt heavy. He tried to stop it, but the effects were quick and effective. Simon slumped onto his back and fell into a deep sleep...


Simon opened his eyes to see that he was lying in a hospital bed. He looked down to see that he was wearing a hospital gown and a cast on his foot. Next to his bed, the nightstand had a pitcher of water, an empty glass, a stack of files, and a note card with some writing on it.

Simon,

Sorry for the sudden drug, but I could tell that you were becoming hysterical, and so I gave you one of Gem’s magical extra strength sleeping pills. I dropped you off at a nice hospital and notified your emergency contact. Don’t worry about Arthur, we have everything under control. Just go on with your normal day doing the things you normally do. If you ever need me or my men, just press the red button on your Undertone Watch. Don’t get too trigger happy, we aren’t your personal body guards. Also, Gem gave me a few files about a string of murders in West Fort. Maybe you can get someone to make sense of them. Get back to me if you have any information. Make sure to flush this note, don’t need to leave a paper trail.

~Caw

P.S.- The pills have a nasty side effect of morning sickness..

Simon then began to piece back together the events of last night. He remembered going to the Weird Underground to sell some scrap, finally getting an Undertone Watch, and then...then…Simon wretched and began to dry heave. He hovered over the conveniently placed trashcan and threw up. The pile was clear and glittery, but just as painful. He emptied the contents of his stomach into the trashcan, whether it was because he remembered the bloodied corpse of Arthur or just a side effect of the drug was lost on him. He forced himself up, and with a crutch near his bed, grabbed the note, and limbed to the bathroom…

After Simon was finished he opened the door and began to read the files left by Caw... A few hours later, Simon overheard a conversation happening in the hallway, to Simon it sounded like it was over the phone.

“I think we should increase the minimum wage” Stated one male voice.

“That’s a cute idea, Mayor Wakefield, but then we would have to increase taxes overall, and I don’t think anyone’s going to want that,” retorted the female voice.

“But West Fort and Knoxville are so--”

“Yes, they are, but increasing the already high taxes will not make their living situation any better. Also, money is not the solution to every problem. What about the gangs, the homeless or jobless who would not benefit from the higher wages? What about the broken down houses and apartments?...Matthias, you have good intentions, but your ideas are...they’re...not good.”

“But Mel…”

“I’m hanging up, I have to see a friend in the hospital.”

“Wait? What happened, are you--” She hung up the phone.

Simon laid down on the bed, the woman walked into the room surprised to see him awake. She sat in the chair, adjacent to the window.. It is Melissa-Faith Wakefield, Public Relation Manger for the Mayor of Wakefield.

“Hey, Melissa-Faith.” She twirled the ends of her hair, a habit she did whenever she was in deep thought.

“So, how are you.” She stared out at the window, focused on a crow circling outside.

“I’m glad you’re awake Simon, you’ve been asleep since last night.” She turned to face him, it hurt her to see him so broken.

“Well, you know. Breaking a foot and being heavily medicated will do that to you.” A smile flashed across her face, but was quickly removed by worry.

“What happened to you Simon, I was home and at 11 p.m., I get a call saying that you’ve been dropped of in the hospital by a group of thugs. You’re unconscious and rushed into emergency surgery to save you foot and I had to sign those papers. You listed me as your emergency contact and I was the only one there for you, and I had to sign those papers.” She was near tears and her long, black curly hair sat on her shoulders. Her slender fingers slung through the ends of her hair methodically.

“I was attacked by someone in West Fort.”

"Attacked! By who, did you know that guy? Why were you in West Fort in the first place?” Her eyes peered into Simon curiously. Simon looked down, not exactly sure how to answer.

“Well, I was... visiting some friends in West Fort and while we were out this crazy guy tried to run me over with his car. He parted succeeded.” Simon looked down and pointed at his foot, when he looked up Melissa-Faith had her eyes closed and was taking deep breaths. Melissa-Faith, whenever feeling to overwhelmed took deep breathes to calm herself down.

“Were your friends the same people who carried you into the hospital?”

“Most likely, yes.”

“Why are you friends with a bunch of West Fort thugs.”

“Thugs have lives outside of being thugs, Melissa-Faith. Why do I have to explain any of this to you anyway.” She bit her bottom lip and continued to twirl the ends of her hair with her index finger.

“Don’t you get pissy at me Simon. You are the one who pulled me into…” She closed her eyes and took 3 deep breathes, in and out.

“That doesn’t matter, none of that matters. I’m sorry I got upset, it’s just...I was scared for you Simon.”

“Melissa-Faith, I’m sorry.” She half smiled.

“You don’t need to apologize Simon, it’s not your fault you were attacked, I’m just glad you’re ok.” Simon looked up at Melissa-Faith, then at the files left by Caw.

“Hey, have you heard anything weird about West Fort?”

“Other than psycho men trying to run you over, no.” She chuckled. She opened the file and frowns. Her eyes widened with terror. “Where did you get these pictures from? What is this about?” Melissa-Faith set down the files, they were all information about deaths in West Fort, people who were similarly ripped apart and scattered.

“One of my West Fort friends brought this to me. I’m worried Melissa-Faith, you of all people should know how unpoliced West Fort is, people are in danger.” She walked back to the window, the crow was now perched on the roof of the hospital. “Maybe if you send more police into West Fort, you could find out who or what is doing this.” She inserted her finger into her hair, twisting the bottom curl nearest to her face.

“I can’t do that Simon.”

“Why not?”

“Because, the people in West Fort don’t really like authoritative figures in their part of town. They govern themselves. Plus no policeman or woman is going to want to go to West Fort.”

“Then force them to do their job, Melissa-Faith.” She paused and took her finger out of her hair, strands of black, curly hair were on the floor.

“I can’t force them to work, but maybe if we got a private detective on the case…” Simon sighed, he knew she was right, without evidence, nobody would help.

“I’ll give him a call.” Simon frowned jokingly.

“I have to go, but you’ll be ok right Simon?” He smiled, and gave her a thumbs up. She began to walk away, but Simon stopped her.

“Will this really work, Melissa-Faith?” She turned around and gave a half smile.

“I don’t know, Simon, I honestly don’t know. I’m just a Wakefield.”

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