Octonauts

Part 10

Peso feels nothing. Listening to the growling of the dogs, he sees them tearing apart a bloody corpse.

Was that me?

He ponders the thought, scowling at the grossly mutilated carcass. He floats above it, watching the dogs attack. Their ribs poke out; they've been starved. Two of the five animals have wounds across their skin, and they all obviously have fleas. A skeleton lies on the floor near the edge of the enclosure, which is a large, dirt rectangle surrounded by corrugated iron.

Gliding over the fence, he makes his way to an elegant marble building. Reaching out to open the door, his hand slips through the handle. He's shocked, but when he comes to think of it, he's dead. He reaches out his hand, the once considered pale flesh is now whiter than snow. Poking the door, he can probably get through it.

Peso strolls forwards, realizing that he can still touch the floor.

I wonder why that is.

Walking through a solid door is the strangest experience imaginable. The wood feels as if it isn't there, but also like it is. Similar to walking into a cool shopping centre after being out in the sun.

He stops to watch as a man, wearing black, mops a large puddle of blood from the floor. The task would have been simple enough, but watching it, Peso stares like it's like a dance. The blunt movements seem graceful in the new eyes he has for the world.

He tears his eyes away from the cleaner, meandering past him. The man shivers, the hairs on his neck rising as he subconsciously senses Peso.

Flicking his translucent hair from his eyes, Peso walks through another door. He gasps, Nathan is covered in blood, Peso's skin stretched across a table, chemical bottles lining the floor. Stains of red cover the once white tiling, lit up in a strangely beautiful way by the sunlight pouring in from the windows.

The things he does, he does them perfectly. He has his eyes closed; a content look on his face as he nods to the music playing from hidden speakers. He knows automatically which chemical he needs to use next, extending his arm to a remembered bottle. 

The cleaner's slow, plain, mopping routine was nothing compared to this. Peso watches with utter fixation as Nathan uses his blade to shred the sparse hair off what used to be his back. The once soft skin of his arms now leathery from the chemical treatment.

Peso floats over to stand behind him, blowing the frigid breeze of his breath onto Nathan's neck. Shivers run down his spine, his hair standing on end. He blames the shivers on the lonely sounding classical music he listens to. Peso grins, sliding across the floor and weaving between confusingly labelled bottles to see the process close-up.

"That stupid pirate brought me a sad one." Nathan mutters to himself, "I might as well have just kept him instead."

Nathan pauses, the elegant flow of his movements grinding to a halt as he appears to puzzle over something.

"Dave!" he calls suddenly, and at this the music stops.

"Yes, sir?" a tall man half-jogs into the room, panting.

"Fetch me the man who visited yesterday."

"By when, sir?" Dave asks, briefly glancing at the blood splattered down Nathan's shirt.

"Saturday." Nathan tells him curtly.

"But that's only three da-" Dave begins to protest.

"David. Saturday."

Dave inhales deeply. "Yes, sir."

Peso watches him leave and waits until the music starts up again.

What am I doing?

Peso coasts out of the room, leaving the gruesome image behind him. He realizes that Nathan will be chasing Kwazii now.

Shit.