Just a Happy Ending

Keep Your Head

Henry landed roughly on his hands. It took a few seconds for the stars in his eyes to clear, but once they did, he realized he wasn't in the safehouse anymore. He stood up quickly despite the odd feeling in his head, gasping through his teeth.

It was the recording studio, but different. The chairs on the stage looked relatively new, and the instruments were carefully lined up against the wall. Above his head, the projector's light flicked off.

Henry turned, shocked to see Norman, human Norman, standing at his place beside the large machine.

It finally hit him.

The odd feeling in his head. He was seeing the past again.

He blinked, and was suddenly in the booth. Both he and Norman turned to the sound of approaching footsteps. Henry instinctively moved back.

Norman glanced toward his boss, "Joey? I'd... thought you'd've gone home for the night."

Joey scoffed, "Yeah, you and me both." He stepped around the projectionist and leaned against the wall to his right. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Funny," Norman said, "I wanted the same thing." He turned fully toward Joey, "But I ain't talkin 'bout nothin' to you until you tell me what in tarnation's been going on."

Joey's head tilted. "Like what?"

"Like what happened to Sammy?"

Joey smirked and waved his hand, "Eh, he stopped dreaming. So he had to go."

Norman's eyes narrowed. "Go where, Joey?"

"Would you drop it? What is it to you?"

Norman slammed his hand on the railing and swore, "Joey, he's my friend!"

Joey merely rolled his eyes, brushing past Norman toward the stairs.

"Joey."

He stopped.

"Somethin's not right here. Something..." Norman's eyes swept the lower floor, as if wary something might come through the walls, "inhuman is alive in here."

Joey ignored Norman, walking down the stairs and laying a hand on the door at the bottom.

"People are vanishing, Joey," Norman said, "People you're responsible for. It bothers me that this don't bother you."

Henry heard Joey mutter, "Oh, it bothers me, all right."

Norman tapped his fingers on the railing, "Come again?"

"Just not the way you're thinking," Joey finished his thought, loud enough for Norman to hear. He started back up the stairs as he spoke. "Fact is, Sammy stopped dreaming, so I had to let him go. Though, it was a bit more literal than you'd think."

Norman's teeth bared and he let out a growl, "What did you do?"

Joey ignored him. "Thing with you, Norman. You've always been sticking your head into places it shouldn't be. I want to tell you that it's not acceptable anymore."

The two of them stared each other down, daring the other to break first. Norman broke the silence but not the stare, "If that's the case, then my letter of resignation will be on your desk in the morning."

He brushed past Joey and tried the door. It was stuck tight.

"What the-."

Joey sneered and let out a malicious chuckle from above. "No, Norman, you're not understanding. Your head's got too much valuable stuff in it to let it leave. The things recorded on your reels are my property. One way or another, I'll keep them here."