The Participants by Brian Blose Read Free Book Online Page B

nose. Then a playful tap to the back of his head
made him suck down a shot of water.
    Involuntarily, Zack's lungs spasmed in a
cough. The cough was followed by a gasping breath of water. His
body spasmed in a wild attempt to find air, accompanied by laughter
from Erik. His exertions triggered the impulse to inhale and Zack
obliged his reflexes despite the fact that he was submerged.
    Inhalations become an
autonomic function once a certain point is reached. Uncertain
whether the trigger is determined by lack of oxygen in blood or
carbon dioxide levels. Zack recorded
everything as an Observer without intending to do anything of the
sort. He didn't know if the impulse to observe was another
autonomic function or if he was trying to escape the experience
through depersonalization. If the purpose was escape, Zack didn't
think it was very effective.
    He gasped several breaths of liquid and
relaxed into the cold water. Death slowly enfolded him, allowing
the welcoming warmth of nothingness to engulf him. Zack let it take
him away, wishing his death would last this time.
    Zack woke wet and shivering on the bathroom
floor.
    “How did you like that one?”
    He turned his head to look at Erik. She
appeared pudgy and weak, but possessed a maniacal strength. “I
prefer the chainsaw.”
    Erik laughed and clapped her hands. “Me too!
I think we really bonded over that one.” Her false cheer faded,
leaving only the predatory aura behind. “Death doesn't bother you.
I need to focus more on the torture.”
    Zack shivered. So far, Erik had stabbed him
to death, beaten him to death with a golf club, sliced him to death
with a chainsaw, and crushed his skull with the blunt end of an
axe. The dying really didn't bother him. Time and again, it was a
welcome release from circumstances he would give anything to
escape.
    The other Observers had lectured him, each
in turn, when he arrived. They didn't participate in any of the
festivities. Erik had been disappointed by her colleagues'
restraint, insulting their dedication to the Creator's work.
    Erik dragged him from the cramped bathroom
of the farmhouse using the rope binding his feet. They made it to
the front porch before they encountered anyone. The man named
Ingrid waited on the porch swing. “I think you're enjoying this too
much, Erik.”
    “Watch yourself, Ingrid, or I'll put you on
the naughty list.”
    “No you won't,” Ingrid said. He studied her
over his steepled fingers. “You are loyal to the Creator in your
own perverse way. Hunting, tormenting, and murdering people is work
to you, no matter how much you enjoy it. Doing the same with an
Observer is just playing and you know it.”
    “Do you really want to risk being
wrong?”
    “I'm not wrong,” Ingrid said. “You despised
the relationship between Hess and Elza. If you focus your
particular fetish on other Observers, then you would be committing
the same sin as them.”
    “For what Hess did in the last Iteration, he
deserves the worst I can do to him. Don't interfere with that,
Ingrid. I will make you my enemy.”
    “And deprive the Creator of another
Observer?”
    Erik pointed at Zack. “This and the other
have been useless as Observers from the first. The Creator won't
miss their input.”
    “I think you're wrong,
Erik. I've been man and woman, tall and short, dark and fair, thin
and heavy, weak and strong. Every variation of human possible. We
all have. Every Iteration sees us inserted into random identities.
Except them . Hess
always a man. Elza always a woman. The Creator must have a reason
for that.”
    “And I have the urge to torture this man for
eternity. Maybe the Creator has a reason for making me like that.”
Erik dragged Zack by the rope, sending him tumbling down the front
steps. “Nice talk, Ingrid, but I got lots of torturing to do. We're
going to play with electric next. Ciao.”

Chapter 11 – Elza / Iteration 1
    Despite her anger, lingering fear, and the
horrible cries of the women in the distance,