Mardock Scramble

hand that was resting on the armrest and stared at it intently. He picked up the fingers and licked them. Then he placed her left hand onto the armrest, fixed it into position, and severed her hand with his knife.

The woman’s body stiffened in an instant.

The smell of burning flesh pierced his nose as the wound was instantly cauterized. There was no blood. Medium took the severed hand in his own, smiled a satisfied smile, and placed the hand on the woman’s lap with a polite gesture.

Then he fixed her other hand to the armrest. He took his knife to her pinky.

Her pinky fell to the ground, like an off-cut from a vegetable he was paring.

He proceeded to neatly snip off her middle finger and then her thumb, enjoying the uneven shapes that he was creating in the process. The fingers fell one by one to the side of the wheelchair. As he did so, tears started welling up in the woman’s eyes, eventually brimming over and rolling down her cheeks. Medium noticed this and brought his mouth to her face, sticking out his tongue so that it tapered at its point, and licked the tears as they flowed down.

As he did so, her last finger fell to the ground, and Medium laughed. “This is great! Why don’t I see if I can replace my fingers here? And then on to my little kitty. That’s it. There’s plenty of treasure here to enjoy. It’s all wonderful. Wonderful!”

Just then,

–What are you doing?

A sound reverberated around Medium’s head. “Wha—?”

Medium leapt up. He was so surprised that he flew through the air, and even as he landed he went bounding back for cover in the vegetation. Running away, he reached the shade of a tree and quickly scanned the area with his glittering eyes. His breathing was rough. His face was a mask of fear.

More interference waves hit Medium.

–Are you the person who just accessed Balot’s data? I’m sorry, but to get Rune-Balot’s main data you need special dispensation from the Professor him—

“Where the hell are you? You fucking hacker bastard! Fucker, you killed my friends! You killed all my friends!” Medium screamed. Knife firmly in hand, he jumped out of the shadows, looking from left to right.

–I’m over here. Gosh, you like to talk a lot, don’t you? It’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone speak in such a loud voice.

Medium’s voice stopped.

A young man walked slowly and steadily into the clearing.

He had evidently seen Medium—noticed his knife, even—but showed no sign of wariness.

–I’m Tweedledee. Who are you?

He stopped just a short way away from Medium.

“Me? Who am I, you ask? Right, I get it now!” Medium took his sunglasses off, staring at the youth. His bright red eyes were wide open.

“You did it. Them. My friends. My pack. You’re the one who did them.”

Tweedledee tilted his head to one side, staring at Medium as if he were trying to work something out.

–You have a hard drive in your head—

“Stop speaking inside my mind!”

Tweedledee seemed surprised. He watched with furrowed brow as Medium crushed his own sunglasses into little pieces. But he showed no sign of fear—indeed, he looked on with interest as Medium smiled a smile that could only be described as brutality personified.

–I was just—

“Get out of my head!” Medium screamed, and the blade in his right hand flashed, light reflecting from it straight into Tweedledee’s eyes.

Tweedledee squinted hard, surprised.

That was the moment. Medium ran toward him and seized Tweedledee’s arm.

The hair on Tweedledee’s arm stood on end at the touch of metal.

He tried to wriggle free from Medium’s grip but couldn’t shake him off.

“I’m going to look after you good and proper. Pet you plenty. Come here. Over here!”

–You know that we’re allowed to deal with violent visitors in a number of ways? Tweedledee explained patiently and politely.

Medium’s expression went blank. His whole body radiated tension.

The very next instant, that tension transformed into something much harsher.

The fist that gripped the knife smashed into Tweedledee’s face.

There was a damp gush sound, and Tweedledee’s nose split open, releasing copious quantities of blood.

Tweedledee turned his face away, not making a sound. He made no effort to cover his face with his one free hand.

Medium said nothing and punched him again and again. Tweedledee’s lips, ears, and eyebrows all split open.

Tweedledee’s face was now a half-swollen mass, drenched in blood.

“I’ll look after you all right, you little brat. I’ll look after you good and proper.” Medium licked Tweedledee’s blood off the back of his hand with his long tongue.

–I’ll put up with this till the point that security automatically kicks in, Tweedledee informed him, raising his battered head. His face was serene—as if he didn’t feel that little thing called pain.

Medium was frozen to the spot in fear and anger.

–I thought I might try and experience pain again—it’s been a while. But it’s not very nice, after all, is it? I just snarced the pain away, to be honest.

Medium gave a piercing cry. He punched again. The skin peeled off Tweedledee’s arm, and more blood came forth.

“Such pretty fingers. Beautiful fingers. Tastes good too. That taste of special blood.” Medium laughed cruelly. He punched the boy again and raised his knife.

Suddenly, Tweedledee was free. He tried to work out why he had suddenly been released from the grip of the man in front of him, and then he found the answer.

His right arm that had been in Medium’s grip had been severed from his elbow down.

It was no longer attached to him. It was in Medium’s hand.

The wound was cauterized, bloodless.

Tweedledee’s throat suddenly wobbled. “Ah…” he said.

Tweedledee’s eyes widened—surprised at the fact that he had just spoken.

Medium stepped forward again. Giggling, he kissed the severed arm and tossed it aside.

His blade came up again. Tweedledee lifted his left arm reflexively to protect himself, and the blade cut through his wrist like so much wax, causing his hand to go flying through the air.

“Now we’re talking… I’m liking your new look,” Medium said, baring his teeth and laughing.

“Ah…ah…” Tweedledee gasped. “My voice…breathing…it’s been a while.”

Opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, he looked straight at Medium and, incredibly, smiled. His face was swollen and bloodied, and both his hands had been severed from his body. Still, he never stopped smiling. Sweetly, innocently.

Indeed it was Medium who stopped smiling. “What the hell are you…?” He stood rooted to the spot as if he had suddenly been overcome by fear.

–Security’s been activated, I’m afraid. Nothing I can do now.

Medium was startled as yet another sound echoed through the back of his mind.

Suddenly a number of shadows surrounded Medium. Hurriedly he readied his knife. When he recognized the shadows, though, his heart sank.

Silhouettes of what looked like large fish—spinning around him.

Medium looked up at the sky with bloodshot eyes. He gave a short grunt of surprise. His eyes were pinned open by the sight of giant sharks flying through the air.

–Over here, please, everyone, called Tweedledee, raising his severed arms to the