The Immortality Machine

Papa couldn't save Mother from death.

Though he certainly tried every avenue known and unknown to man. For months he'd poured over the great works of Edison and Tesla, the two men as much magicians as scientists, sifting for pieces to weave into his own creation. For weeks until the end, he locked himself away in the lab through the long hours of the night, the sallow glow of the lanterns seeping under the door. He tinkered and toiled until Mother drew her last bloody bubbling breath through her gray lips. I know, but I was there at the end, gripping my mother's cooling hand in a white knuckled embrace, willing her to take one more breath to spite the Devil. It was no use. The sickness slowly, agonizingly liquefied her internal organs. I kept vigil to the end, wiping the blood from her lips, feeding her broth until her stomach ate away at itself. A horrifying death to witness as much to experience.

My father never appeared.

It was my mother's stalwart maid Tansy who delivered the news. By then I dragged myself to the wash room to sterilize myself. I knew the moment my father emerged from his labs by the hoarse cries. He fell to my mother's side, unable to touch her. To see his beloved's ravaged face may have been too much for him. He was unresponsive when I make it back to the room, my skin scrubbed raw to quash any possible contamination. Father looked fragile in his rumpled white coat and smudges glasses. His eyes were bruised, his face gaunt, the skin taut from weeks of improper sleeping and eating.

My mother lay dead from the Consumption that swept the country side and my father was a ghost of a man haunting her bedside. I was certain I lost them both the same day, but my father jolted at my touch on his arm, coming to life like Shelley's monster. He turned and swept me up in a crushing hold.

Sorrow's hold was tighter still, squeezing my heart until I was sure it was pop from the pressure. It was all I could do not to crumble into a sobbing mess in my father's arms but in that moment, I felt her there was us. Mother's presence surrounded Papa and me, as if she held us in her arms. I swore her fingers stroked across my cheek in a final farewell.

Or a 'see you soon' gesture.

My body convulsed in a violent cough. I tasted copper and felt the mist on my lips. I didn't need to wipe it away to see what it was. My father's horrified expression confirmed what I already knew.

The Consumption had me now.

My father's hands cupped my face, the fire in his eyes dancing on the edge of madness.

"I won't let this happen, my little dove," he stated, "I will not cede you both to the grave."

It was the last I saw of my father's for weeks.

**

This included Mother's funeral. I did not mind the solitary preparation, it kept my mind off other things. Like my slowly melting internal organs. It took mother six months to succumb, not fully bedridden until the final three weeks when her organs were too damaged to continue proper functions. It was the typical time line for a Consumption victim, a mystery how they lasted so long, as mysterious as the origin of the disease itself. Many blamed the scientists, the curious Curies, playing with powers beyond mortal comprehension, or my father's idols, Tesla and Edison.

Men and women playing god, the peers clucked in their parlors, sooner or later one of them had to overstep their bounds and incite the wrath of higher beings. That is what many believed the Consumption truly was; divine punishment. They boycotted electricity in favor of gas lamps and shied away from other advancements. My father called them a bunch of backward facing idiots.

He believed men and women like the Curies, Tesla, and Edison were the way of the future.

"It is science that will save the country from Consumption," he said. That was before Mother fell ill.

Before her long drawn out descent into death. No matter how Papa felt on the subject I reverently prayed at the end. I prayed for my mother's soul. By the end, I prayed for her death, if only to ease her obvious suffering.

As I stared at her casket being lowered into the ground, I wondered who would pray for my soul at the end. A selfish tear streaked down my cheeks. I'd already mourned my Mother weeks ago. This tear was for me, for the slow creep of decay settling into my bones. Tansy put her arm around me, her face mask firmly in place. She was more vigilant about such things than I, it was why she would outlive me.

My father's personal man Nicolas stood, stalwart and silent opposite from me, a place holder for father, his face mask hiding the grim line of his mouth. The rest servants stood in a loose cluster a few yards away, the only souls brave enough to attend the funeral of a Consumption victim, their bright white face masks blurred floating squares in the corner of my vision. Mama loathed those masks, how inhuman they made us seem to her. Her unease whittled down my resolve to wear one, but that wasn't why I stopped. By the end, I didn't care, I didn't care if I lived or died, I only wanted to take away her pain. It was a mistake I would pay dearly for.

The first handful of dirt on the coffin brought the finality of it home. Mother was gone. Cold in the earth.

I couldn't breathe. Tansy caught me as I sagged, the reality of my situation stealing over me with a sharpness that squeezed my chest tighter than corset strings. One of the other girls detached, little Lizzy, one of the kitchen girls. Stronger than she looked, taking the bulk of my weight as the two of them stirred me into the house.

"You need to eat more miss," Lizzy scolded me, her face pinched with concern. Tansy's expression was unreadable. Of course, I hadn't told them yet, only Tansy knew of my current condition. This was confirmed when Lizzy reached up to unhook her mask from behind her ears. I snatched at her elbow, a panic vision of the household full of decaying servants flashing through my mind.

"Keep it on," I choked. "We don't know how long the Consumption lingers."

Lizzy frowned at me but listened to my command. I let them push me back into one of the parlor chairs, allowing Lizzy and Tansy to fuss over me and fill me with tea and tea cakes. It was the most I'd eaten in a week but it was enough to stop the trembling in my limbs.

"Why don't you go prepare dinner for the little miss and the master," said Tansy, shooting me a meaningful glance. Lizzy hustled out as Tansy tucked a warm blanket around my legs.

"You didn't tell them?" I asked her, my voice quiet and strained.

"Let them have a reprieve from mourning," she softly answered. I knew what she meant. A pall lingered over the household through mother's long sickness, one the servants knew she would not survive. The watched her from the corner of their eyes in the months leading up to her final days, watching, waiting for her to take a worse turn. Waiting for her to succumb.

I stilled Tansy's fluttering hands. "I want to be alone."

Once she was gone, I allowed a few tears, snuggling into the blanket that still smelled like mother.

I dozed in the chair, imagining her hands stroking my hand, whispering comfort in my ear. I slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.

**

I do not know how mother lasted six months. Within days I feel the first twinges and aches, as if my body has caught a never ending flu. The first morning I wake up with them, I never want to leave my bed again. I ache, it is cold, and I haven't seen my father since that fateful day. My mood is further soured by Tansy bursting into the room, spreading the curtains wide as she flips the blanket off my balled up form.

"Rise, little Miss. There is plenty of time to feel sorry for yourself later." Despite her over cheerful tone, there is a worried frown marking her brow. Something is distracting her, bothering her.

"What is it?"

She looks startled I notice but shakes her head after a moment. "Lizzy's been missing since yester eve."

The omission is a small one but we both wonder. Between the burial of mother and my odd behavior around her on that day, a rumor was bound to circulate eventually. It was safe to assume a few servants would leave once my fate was discovered. Despite this, I was saddened to learn Lizzy was one of them.

"Get yourself cleaned up miss," said Tansy. "You're to see your father today."

**

Papa looks more a corpse than mother did before we put her in the ground. His skin has a pale translucent quality, both clinging and hanging off his bones. When was the last time he saw the sun? When was the last time he ate or bathed? The scent of stale sweat clings to him as he moves around, never looking me in the eye.

He's babbling about the machine, the technical talk flowing together into a single muddy stream of noise. I vaguely comprehend he is a step closer to finding success but I do not understand what he mean by 'deletion of incorporeal mass' or 'manipulation of degenerative tissues'.

What I notice is the blood.

A lot of it, splattered across the back wall in an upward arc, like ink blown through a straw.

"What happened there?" I interrupt him mid sentence, my eyes glued to the drying spray. It's glistening like morning dew.

The week mother took a turn for the worse, she sat in the parlor, enjoying tea with a few of her more adventurous lady friends when she coughed. The epitome of manners, my mother didn't cover her whole mouth with her hand in a typical delicate gesture. This was to her determent as blood flowed from her mouth in an explosive fount, spewing around her cupped hand in rivulets that slashed the floor and seated ladies in great red stripes.

Suffice it to say, it was the last time her 'friends' came to call.

I remember comforting mother as she reeled from the episode, her face white in shock. The blood dripped from the wall in those alluring dew drop patterns, glittering like liquid rubies. Beautiful and horrifying.

"A test gone wrong dear, nothing more," said Father. I don't know what it was. The curiously flat tone, the uncharacteristically blase attitude he suddenly had, but I knew in the moment, my father was lying. For a moment I swore I saw the specter of mother hovering behind him, her face full of anger and sorrow. The conflicting emotions made me uneasy. I wanted nothing more than to be gone from his presence and his damnable machine when the words slipped from my mouth.

"Have you seen Lizzy?"

It was a flicker nothing more, possibly a trick of the light, but I could have sworn my father's eyes darted to the blood painting his wall. "No, has she gone missing?" He didn't wait for me to respond before he was steering me out of the room. "I have a great deal of data to go over love. I'm sure she will turn up. Let us have dinner soon."

The laboratory door slammed shut behind me, leaving me muddled with unease.

**

Lizzy was not the last to disappear.

Over the next few weeks, several other servants disappeared, including my father's man Nicolas.

After the third went missing, the circumstances seemed more and more suspicious. A few servants left brusque and obvious in the light of day but the few who remained scurried through the halls of our home in twos and threes. I was afraid to let Tansy out of my sight, convincing her to stay in my room at night. This was a strangely beneficial arrangement as my Consumption appeared to progress much faster than mother's. Tansy felt safer in my room at night and I needed her help to rise from bed sooner than I anticipated. Perhaps my body was weaker than mother's, my soul not as strong, but the flu like ache I first felt soon grew to burning embers beneath my skin.

I often dreamt of mother standing over me, her expression tense and worried as she watched me sleep. She spoke to me without sound, her mouth moving as I strained to read the silent words on her lips I would wake, panting and crying for her, wishing I could see her once again with only Tansy's silent sleeping form on a cot by my bedside.

I woke with tears in my eyes to a figure standing at the end of the bed. My first thought was it must be Tansy, roused by my sobs, or even the specter of mother come to comfort me outside the torturous tease of my unconsciousness. The passing clouds allowed the moonlight to filter into the room, slanting over the figure, revealing their features in the pale white moonlight.

Lizzy stood at the foot of my bed, her eyes nothing more than dark holes, her skin drawn tight as a leather drum, grey in the light, dead flesh. She looked....hollowed out.

The black pit of her mouth gaped open as her skeletal hand reached for me. No sound came from the hole where her mouth once was.

I must have passed out. The next thing I knew, Tansy shook my violently, the lamp light searing to my over sensitive eyes. Her face was a mask of panic and fear. A high keening sound vibrated through the air, hurting my ears.

It took me a long moment to realize the sound came from me.

"Miss what happened! What did you see?"Tansy sat on the bed beside me, her mask dropping dangerously low on her face as her eyes darted around the room.

"Did you see her too?" I rasped, coughing at the dryness in my throat.

Tansy hesitated, her dark eyes still rolling with fear. "I don't know what I saw."

Danger to her health notwithstanding, she stayed in my bed the rest of the night, clutching my hand tight.

Father did not appear once.

**

The shrill late night screaming was the last straw for the remaining servants. By noon the next day, only Tansy, father, and myself remained. I couldn't shake the image of Lizzy from my thoughts, sweet Lizzy, nothing more than a wraith, hollowed out of all signs of life as she reached for me.

Was she real? What happened to her? Why was she reaching for me?

The day passed all too fast, the shadows growing in the corners, creeping towards me like Lizzy's reaching fingers.

"Miss." Tansy stood in front of me, wringing her skirts between her hands. "I need to go to the kitchens to make us dinner."

She was leaving me. I could feel it in my spongy bones. If she left me here I would never see her again. She blanched at the stark expression on my face. "I'll be back as soon as I can Miss," she assured, firmly tucking a blanket around my shivering legs. It was so very hard to get warm now.

I held myself together until she was gone for several minutes before I put my face in my hands and sobbed.

The minutes searched on and on with no sign of Tansy.

The light faded from the room, forcing me to stagger around and light the lamps. I just settled back into my chair when father appeared, his eyes luminous in his gaunt face.

"Tonight, we shall dine together, my dear heart," he said.

I wanted to tell him it was no use. The servants had fled. Even Tansy was gone. I was dying.

As if to punctuate the moment I coughed hard, feeling the warm wetness of blood pooling in my hands clapped against my mouth.

My father ignored it all, scooping me up off the chair in his arms. He was stronger than he looked, so stick thin and frail. The strength was almost frightening as he carried me through the empty halls of our home.

I was too weak to protest, leaning against his chest as he went. His flesh was hot, searing against my cheek. An inferno raged inside my father, fueling his manic movements as we passed empty rooms, our path soon clear.

He carried me towards the lab.

**

Father laid me down on his lab table like an offering. The smooth metal was chill against my skin, leeching my precious heat until I was a quivering mass. I wonder how long he would leave me there shivering when Tansy appeared beside me.

I blinked up at her, uncertain what I was seeing. It was Tansy, but it was not. Her eyes had the same inner luminous shine father had, and when her fingers brushed my wrist her skin was just as hot. I startled at her touch, so distracted by her heat I missed her placing the strap over my wrist until she cinched it in place.

"What are you doing?" I uselessly tried to tug my arm free as she moved to the other side, fixing the other in place.

"Shh, it's alright little Miss." Her searing hand smoothed over my brow as she smiled. I felt the scream bubbling up in my throat at the sight of it. What was wrong with her? "Your father is going to fix you."

My shaking grew worse.

Two coiling spires of wire and metal snapped into place on either side of the table as father came into view, his face twisted in the same manic grin Tansy had given me. Not human. They weren't human.

I whimpered, twisting my body away as he reached for me. Father frowned then, clearly hurt by my reaction to him.

"I've done it my dear heart. The machine works. After numerous tests and tweaking, I've had two successful trials."

Two. I knew what that meant. He'd succeeded with himself...and Tansy. Which meant the others hadn't simply disappeared.

"Lizzy, Nicolas, the other servants, what happened to them?" My voice was a sobbing whine as I fought the restraints. Father sighed, loosening the cinch enough so it didn't bite into my wrist.

"Science is trial and error my dear. Without their noteworthy contribution I wouldn't have managed to tweak the machine in time to use on you."

Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes. I shook my head. "You killed them."

His frown deepened. "Nonsense. They're right over there, tending the rigging."

My head whipped around at his words. I beheld monsters. Hollowed out, full of darkness, they were empty inside. Like candles snuffed at the wick. Nicolas looked up at me, sensing my horrified gaze on him. The empty pits of his eyes turned away from my gaze, as if he felt ashamed of his appearance.

"What did you do to them?" My voice was a hoarse a whisper. Father winced at the question.

"I told you, heart, there were calibration issues with the incorporeal matter within the human body. The machine had a few...hiccups in the beginning, properly acclimating to the intangible measurements of the human soul. Unfortunately it reacted to those intangible qualities by deleting them."

My mind struggled to comprehend what he was speaking of. It became clear the longer I stared at Nicolas, Lizzy and the others, the pits of their eyes, the nothing inside them. My father destroyed their souls.

"How could you," I whispered. Now I knew why my father's skin burned so hot. He'd injected himself with hellfire. He'd destroyed the souls of our innocent servants, condemned them to this horrid reality all in his quest to find immortality. The price was too high. Far too high.

"Now now, heart, this is the answer. The calibrations are set. I will save you from the grasp of death as I could not save your mother. You shall be forever beyond the grasp of death. It will never touch my family again."

This was wrong. My soul cried out at the horror of it. It was wrong, unnatural. His words tumbled over and over in my head. How had he re-calibrated the machine? What had he done to himself, to Tansy? They were perhaps more inhuman than the others.

"Don't worry, my dear heart. It is quite safe, though the procedure is a bit uncomfortable. You'll feel a burning sensation but it doesn't last long. Here we go."

I tried to scream for him to stop, to let me go and die in peace but my father was no longer in the room. My father no longer existed. Whatever had taken his place was an amoral monster and he aimed to make me just like him.

My throat tore as I tried to scream, right until he flipped a switch on the wall.

Fire poured into me, stealing my breath. It filled my limbs, burning away the Consumption as it went. It burned away the pain, the guilt, the sorrow, it burned away memories and seared my thoughts to ash. The fire was eternal. The fire would never die down.

The wavering flames I saw Mother, staring down at me. Her face full of anger and sorrow. Her mouth moved, though this time I heard the words clear as a bell.

"Farewell, my poor girl."

The flames burned her away.