New Home

Chapter 6

When we were finished, Otis didn't waste any time with pillow talk. He got up, put his clothes on, and went to clean up the mess he had made.

After he was done cleaning up, and the flesh-bird and all of its discarded organs were gone, he rolled over his desk chair towards the bed to sit across from me. I was still completely naked, since my clothes had been ripped apart.

I didn't say anything, neither did Otis. All we did was sit there, staring at each other. I felt as though his piercing blue eyes were staring directly into my soul, trying to see if I could handle this lifestyle.

During our stare-down, we heard Mother Firefly call from downstairs that lunch was ready. Already? I thought. I hadn't realized how much time had passed while Otis was working.

"Ya gonna get lunch?"

I did want to distract myself from what had just happened, but I didn't want to puke up my food right after eating it. "Honestly I'm not sure my stomach can handle it right now. I'd rather not risk it."

"Fair enough." Otis stood up from his chair and walked over to one of many piles of dirty clothes. He picked up one of his shirts and a pair of pants, both crusty with dirt and blood, and tossed them over to me. I didn't complain about the filthy state the clothes were in, and I put on the clothes. They were much too big on me, but I appreciated the gesture. I assumed that the other "guests" he brings to his room don't usually have the privilege of wearing clothes.

After throwing me the clothes, Otis wheeled over a TV that had been sitting next to his desk. He turned it on and tuned it to play The Twilight Zone. He sat down on the bed and pulled me into his arms. He wrapped his hands around my waist and kept me in his lap so that I was seated between his legs, my back touching his chest.

We almost looked like a normal couple.

We lay there for a while, half-cuddling; I'm not sure what to call it. I didn't think that someone who mercilessly cut open girls for fun was capable of showing this much affection—if it was, in fact, affection.

There was a knock on the door, and Otis called for the person to come in. RJ stepped into the room and said, "I was gonna tow the car out, does the girl want her stuff?" He asked the question as if I wasn't even there.

Otis looked at me for an answer, so I said yes. We got up and followed RJ out of the house. All three of us made our way to the backyard, while Otis kept a tight grip on my arm to ensure that I wouldn't try to make an escape.

When we arrived at the "scrapyard", I could pick out my family's car through the heaps of spare metal scraps. I was amazed at how many broken down cars were here, this family must have captured dozens of people by the time I got here.

RJ moved to somewhere else in the yard, and Otis and I made our way to the car. I rummaged through my belongings while Otis kept a sharp eye on me. I only took what I needed, like my toothbrush and toothpaste, some of my clothes, and a hairbrush.

Once I was satisfied with what I got, Otis walked me back to the house. By this point, my nausea had been replaced with hunger. I asked Otis if we could stop and get food.

"Oh, now you wanna eat?" he asked, with an irritated tone.

I started to get wide-eyed with fear, thinking that my streak of luck was about to run out and Otis would finally kill me, but he just laughed at me.

"I'm just messin' with ya," he chuckled, "Yeah, go on and get some food."

I thanked him, and we parted ways. I went to the kitchen and he went upstairs. Mother Firefly was in the kitchen, cooking what I assumed was going to be dinner.

"Hi, Mrs. Firefly," I said while entering the kitchen.

"Oh, hello dear! I'm glad ya finally came down to eat somethin'. And you can call me Mama, honey."

"Um...okay, Mama," I said awkwardly. Was she already accepting me as part of this family? Just because Otis hasn't killed me yet?

Mama smiled and took a break from cooking to heat up some of the lunch. I graciously took it and walked towards the living room. The TV was on, and I could see Tiny sitting on the couch watching whatever show was playing. I decided that if I was going to stay here for an extended amount of time, I might as well get to know everyone in the family.

Tiny waved a large, scarred hand at me, and I smiled and waved back. I recalled one of the conversations we had during dinner last night; Mama had said that Tiny was in a horrible accident, where he had nearly burned to death. I felt sorry for him, even though he and his family were complete psychopaths. Even if they were mentally disturbed, I didn't want to judge him for his physical abnormalities.

I learned that Tiny wasn't verbally adept; he had the ability to talk, but he had a hard time enunciating words. Because of this, we mostly watched TV in silence. I did enjoy his company, though. It was nice to get a break from Otis breathing down my neck constantly.

When I finished eating, I waved goodbye to Tiny, thanked Mama for the food, and went back upstairs to Otis's room. I knocked on the door and walked in when he called me inside.

He looked at me for a second before returning his attention to the TV. I walked towards the bed and sat down, and he once again pulled me into his arms. As we sat together, he would occasionally plant light kisses on my neck and shoulders. He would also run his hands gently over my body, not in a sexual way, but in an affectionate way.

This uncharacteristic tenderness started to put me more on edge than what he did to the poor girl earlier this morning. Why was Otis treating me so well when he wouldn't think twice about killing anybody else? My curiosity got the best of me.

"I have a question," I hesitantly said.

"Yeah?"

I paused, thinking about how I wanted to word my question. "Why haven't you killed me yet?" Otis seemed amused by my question. "I mean, you didn't think twice about killing that girl, or my family. So why keep me alive for this long?" I couldn't stop my voice from wavering, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know Otis's answer.

He remained quiet for a long time, amping up my nerves. After what felt like an eternity, he said, "Do ya want me to kill you?"

Huh? That was not the response I was expecting. I thought about his question for a while. I opened my mouth to respond "yes" or "no", but quickly closed it. Instead, I replied to his question with another question. "Would what I want even make a difference in what you'd do?"

He let out a soft chuckle. "See, that's exactly it!" was all he said.

I turned around and stared at him, utterly bewildered. "What's exactly it?"

"What you just said!"

I was still confused.

He softly sighed, "You understand all this." He gestured vaguely with his hands. "You realize that it don't matter what you want, it's what I want. It don't matter whether you wanna live or not, I get to choose what happens to you."

I just stared at him, not sure of what I should say.

He continued his speech, "First, ya didn't act all dramatic-like with seeing your family dead, or that whore this morning, ya didn't complain, ya didn't try to stop me, ya didn't cry. Ya didn't make any sort of fuss. Now ya showed me that ya understand that what you want don't matter. If I so choose to kill ya, there ain't nothin' you can do 'bout it."

The last sentence stung the tiniest bit, but I tried to not show it, that would just disprove his whole point. I inclined my head just the slightest bit, to show him that I kind of understood where he was going with his spiel.

"Y'know," he softened up slightly, "everyone in the cages downstairs, and everyone we capture in the future, they just don't get it. But you do. And that's what makes ya special. That's why you're still alive—for now, at least."

I wasn't really sure how to respond, so I let out an awkward laugh and said, "Uh...thanks?"

He laughed at my response and playfully rolled his eyes before pulling me closer to him. The last part of what he said was festering in my mind. I knew that just because I've slept with him and we were pretty much cuddling, it didn't mean anything to him. He could kill me at any time.