Mortuary Calamity

!UNFINISHED!

I was sitting outside, watching the sun go down. I was resting myself on a small wooden stool against a willow tree. The weather called for some very nasty and terrible storms all throughout the night. But for right now, the sky was a fine and beautiful pastel pink and yellow. Staining these colors was the occasional indigo cloud, shrouding the sun like a crowd of paparazzi. The wind was definitely picking up, the leaves and branches of the forest rattled with each passing gust.
A dark building slightly showed itself behind the trees, an asylum. From a distance, you could only see a few castle-like towers, poking out of the trees. It gave anyone the impression that a lot of sinister things happen there. The way it was distinct was the fact it was colorless amidst the trees. It was on the bottom of a hill, making itself look shorter than it was. I caught wind of something from the news about it now having a new inmate, an incredibly dangerous cannibal. I had little to no fears about the building, it seemed like it was a large enough facility to hold such a criminal. It was fairly old too, but not too old. The man who built it had an interest in Victorian styled buildings. As such, he put his passion into his work. That man owned the place for fifteen years before passing away at an old age. I think he was buried down there, a private spot next to one of his greatest achievements.
I looked away from the eyesore of a building and towards a nearby babbling brook. Small pebbles with a small trickle of water going over them. The brook wasn't flowing too well, but later tonight it will get all of the water it needs and more. I caught the slightest glimpse of life in this small flow of water. Late hatchling minnows and tadpoles jerked around in the water, searching for a place to hide from the incoming storm. Moss was growing on a few stones, adding some greenery to the sand on the bottom of the brook. Normally, this small creek would flow to a waterfall at the edge of the hill, but it was more of a trickle than a roar.
The property the funeral home was on was on a fairly tall hill, the only thing hiding the drop off was a line of trees and the forest on all sides. To the right of the building, you could see a lone, white Sunday worship church. It had a beat up, rocky path, it seemed to be mostly dirt rather than gravel. The church was fairly old, it was around since the Civil War. I hated the owners of it. They wanted absolutely nothing to do with us in terms of funeral business. We had to build a new installation to our building just to be able to hold holy sermons for the deceased. I was a bit less stressed with the minimum time I talked to those people, their ignorance really pissed me off. But aside from the building's owners, the property it was on was really beautiful.
It was an empty meadow with an old willow tree that blossoms each spring on the right side of the property. The sight of it during the day seemed to gleam with some kind of childhood innocence. However the gleam of dusk and twilight seemed to add to the whimsicality. There might potentially be unmarked graves of children out in the meadow. Sometimes, if you looked out of the corner of your eye, you could see some children playing in the meadow. There might've been an old house out there at some point. Some say it was hidden in the trees, in the meadow by the willow tree, or next to the old church. But nobody could give you an answer if it was burned, destroyed, or was rotting away.
I was on my break thinking about these things, and a few of my employees were packing up, ready to leave for the day. A few waved good-bye to me and some just left without a single look back. I was staying the night shift alone this time. Susan, our usual night shift worker, came down with an illness. So I had to do her duties, along with my own. It was fine. Susan was a very diligent and hard worker. The sleep and relaxation was all she really needed.
I decided to bring in the potted plants. They were watered enough, I didn't want to drown them. I propped open the metal door and brought in the heavy plants. They were old indoor hostesses, but I took them outside today to catch some sun. I set them down right next to the door, they were a little too heavy for me to deal with right now, so I just walked to my desk. My desk had some of the papers that Susan needed to fill out. I sat down, picked up a pen, and filled them out. Outside, the clouds began to thicken at an instant, the storm was on its way. I heard the first drop of rain land on a metal roof, it was going to downpour that hard.
The rattle of chains and crazed laughter of patients thickened the senses. So much around me is happening. I was being wheeled down an old hallway. I smelled the air to only have the scent of feces and urine stain it instead of the succulent blood I caught ahold of. I was wrapped in chains, and a straightjacket, along with a mask to prevent me from biting anyone. How desperately I wanted to bite someone. A duo of officers stopped the men behind me from pushing me forwards any further. The wheels of the table I was strapped to clicked, locking in place. The officer in front of me grinned mockingly, forcing his hand on my chest.
"Welcome to Horizon Mental Asylum buddy."
I bellowed a low, guttural growl as he still touched me. I wanted to eat him so badly. I lightly struggled in my bonds, but nothing seemed to budge. The officer laughed as I tried to wiggle out of my chains.
"Try and struggle out of those chains pal, you might as well get used to em." the man said with a cocky sneer. "You aren't getting out of here that easily Velseb."
"Is that a fact, Jack?" I asked, streams of saliva dripping on the ground. "Just ya wait. You'll be the first one I eat when I get outta here." I then chuckled sinisterly. I could tell that my glare bothered him. He wasn't moving but I could see him writhe under his skin, my sense of smell honed in on his uncomfortability.
"What's wrong?" I asked sinisterly, breaking his serious expression. "Ya afraid of me? Ya really think no cell 'll hold me?" I licked my lips to catch whatever had been absorbed into the droplets of saliva.
"Put this animal away boys. He's got a long night ahead of him." the officer in front of me said.
A sudden clack of the wheels unlocking behind me made the officer in front of me jump a little. A glint in my eyes captured him and gave me this perfect opportunity to scare him. I leaned forwards my jaws attempting a bite into his skin. The mask prevented me from biting him, but the loud snapping of my jaws didn't stop. The officer went back into the other guy behind him, nearly knocking both of them down. I was trying to lean down to get to him, but the chains and straightjacket prevented me from reaching him. The two men behind me put me back upright, struggling to hold me. I began to laugh. I couldn't help it.
I suddenly felt a jolt of electricity as the men holding me tazed me. I still laughed even though I was being shocked. I heard another cacophony of voices join in with my laughter. The men finally got me to stop laughing and trying to bite the officer. The amount of electricity they subjected me to made me feel fairly weak. The men then went back behind the cart and continued to roll me away.
It was very late at night when the very violent thunderstorm that was forecasted earlier raged outside. I was left alone to file all the paperwork brought in today. It was a fairly hefty stack and seemed to never end. Everything needed to be done by tomorrow morning, right now it was only nine in the afternoon. I had a bit of music to help me get through the storm and the paperwork with no issues whatsoever. I was surprised that the radio hadn't gone out due to the storm. Then a news report on the radio reminded me of the killer roaming around town here lately. I didn't catch the name of the killer, however. I was far too busy to be attentive to the report.
Coincidentally, the radio then cut to static, just right after the reminder of the killer. I just shrugged it off. Everything was locked up and well secured so I believed that I would be able to keep the killer and the storm out. The storm outside was very violent and loud. It almost made me believe that the end of the world might've been happening outside.
"Okay, so only forty-seven more pages to go. It should be a breeze, I already got twenty-eight of them done along with Susan's work. I should be able to wrap this up in less than a few hours." I suddenly heard a tap at the window. A tip tap of what sounded like someone trying to catch my attention. A quick turn of my head only allowed me to see a lightning strike and nothing there. I just told myself that it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. But the constant feeling of being watched made me feel very uneasy. I just tried to muster myself to write, to ignore the feeling.
My pen finally ran out of ink, and it couldn't have chosen a more perfect time to die on me. I noticed that I was actually missing a few pens, probably one of my employees took a few to write something down. I decided to try to find a few of them. I checked the other desks around mine and they were also missing some of their own pens as well. Frustration came over me considering that I didn't like people moving my stuff without my permission. My shoes clacked against the old tile floor as I walked a few feet down the hallway leading to the morgue.
The hallway itself looked like something out of a horror movie, especially when some of the lights were out. Random spots with tables were sometimes empty or had some tools on them. I was kind of upset with how my employees would just leave tools outside of the morgue. Some of them kind of acted like children with the tools. I couldn't tell if it was the way they coped with the death we are constantly faced with or what, but it mostly got on my nerves.
I turned to the left, to another hallway that was carpeted with a faded, dirty, red layout. I turned on the light and it flickered on, illuminating the hallway with a yellow tinge. I walked down the hallway and opened the door at the end, leading me to the viewing room. There were two windows on both sides. The left window viewed the left side of the building. My office and the other offices were in view, along with the forest and a look to the asylum only ten miles away. A well, full of rocks braved the storm and the rain hitting the top of its tiny roof. Lots of trees were flailing in the wind, shaking off the water covering the leaves only to have them full of water again. In the other window, you could only see the side of the building and a window leading to one of the many examination rooms. Most of the examination rooms were filled with organized and filed paperwork. We normally had them shipped out to a nearby government building so the records of some of our clients could be documented. But nobody came to pick them up here for nearly a few weeks. I know we had at least a room and a half filled with documents of clients. We might have to tell them to bring a U-haul truck the next time they come to take the documents.
I opened the door to the viewing room and flicked on the lights. I noticed the large set of pens on the podium next to the coffin. I picked up a handful of the pens, completing the task of finding the writing tools. I also couldn't help but check on the body inside the coffin. I lifted up the lid, enough for me to see the body itself. Nothing out of place, he seemed ready for the viewing tomorrow. The clipboard read the man's information and when exactly he was prepared for viewing. There was suddenly a noise outside that startled me, I looked out the window and shined a light to the source. It was only a deer roaming around in the downpour. The animal was frightened by the sudden light source and ran back to cover behind the bushes. I sighed in relief and turned around and walked back through the hallway, shutting off the lights behind me. In between the hallway, I could hear some kind of walking outside, it was probably another deer so I just continued to walk back to my desk.
I sat down at my desk and that was only then when the power had gone out. It started as a flicker before the lights finally dimmed to darkness.
"Really?" I said as if the lights had some sentimental value. I held up my flashlight then turned it on, trying to look for my raincoat and boots. It took me a minute, but I found them and unlocked the front door. I pushed open the door to expose me to the raging storm. The rain was pouring from buckets or even barrel fulls. I stepped out, closed the door and tried to run to the breaker. The gutters were so full of water that it spilled out like a broken shower head. I splashed a lot of water onto myself thanks to a bunch of deep, water filled holes on the property. The rain rapped hard against my raincoat and my boots were partially filled with water, soaking my socks. The heavy water droplets seemed to pelt me like a bunch of rocks. I spied the box located in an illuminated shed a few steps away from the building itself. I quickly opened the door and secured myself inside.
"Woof! That's some heavy rain." I walked towards the box and noticed that the wiring was a little fried. Along with some claw-like indentions going into the box.
"Jeez, it's like this thing was ripped apart. What the hell?"
I ended up finding the new wires nearby and replacing them. I pulled the main switch and looked out to the building. I smiled when the power flickered back on. I closed the door to the small box and put my raincoat hoodie back on, prepared to go back out to the storm. I looked down to the ground to see a set of deer prints in the mud. But then I was quickly drawn to a set of human footprints covering them. It looked like they were standing on the doorstep to the small shed, then going after the deer tracks. The worst part was that both tracks were fairly fresh, only a bit of water filled them.
"What?" I whispered to myself in fear and confusion as I stared at the large set of footprints. The exposure to the outside rainy weather, the rain falling down hard enough to look like fog. I didn't want to linger any longer than I had to, so I ran back out into the storm. The rain seemed to weigh me down by how hard it was pelting me. I was fairly certain that a man was out here waiting and watching me.
As soon as I made it to the back door, I noticed the footprints leading to the door and that it was slightly open. My heart had never dropped so quickly to this detail. I walked over to it, pushed it open and hesitantly walked in. A huge puddle of rainwater with the same muddy footsteps leaving it had made me feel less confident as I just stood there in that puddle.
I was too scared to utter even a word. As if one word were to alert the intruder roaming inside of the building. I just dropped my coat very quietly and tried to think that this was potentially a joke from one of my co-workers. It couldn't possibly be one of them either, because I didn't hear or see anybody come up the drive. I was alone, by myself, with an intruder, doing who knows what with the bodies in the morgue. I gathered all my courage and grabbed a wooden plank. The footprints led down the hallway, towards the morgue.
"Come out! I know you're in here!" I shouted down the long hallway to the morgue. I gave up on preserving my safety and position because I had to find this guy before something terrible happens.
The doors on all sides of the hallway didn't help, the possibility of the intruder being in one of those rooms only made my imagination run way too wild. The open and inviting doorways I walked past made me shiver with their pitch black endlessness. They felt like an open grave, if I were to walk inside, only god would know what was to happen next. I pressed on and decided to leave the doors for last. I opened the door to the morgue and noticed that nothing was out of place. Everything was just as I left it, except for one body. The body was half eaten and missing parts of his face. I gagged at the decaying smell of the rotting corpse while it was sprawled out on the gurney. I mustered up the courage to examine the corpse and noticed that the lower belly was an open cavity and most of his guts and organs were gone. His face was no longer identifiable, the eyes remained in their sockets as they stared to the open ceiling.
I heard a shuffle behind me. I swung the wooden plank, in hope to hit the intruder. There was no sign of a person, except a terrible smell and a small tool spinning before stopping with a clatter. I creeped over to the tool on the table, lifting up my head and yelling again,
"Where are you? You creep! It isn't funny to play with the dead!"
I looked at the tool that was dropped, it was a small scalpel. The tool had some thick, nearly black, blood all over it. I then noticed the trail of blood, mixed with water, leading from the morgue to the sanctuary. The door's glass openings didn't help me to see what was inside either. It was as pitch black as the other doorways. I flicked on the light as for a second it illuminated a very heavyset man staring at me from behind the door. His face and chest drenched in that blackened blood burned into my eyes. Along with his eyes. They seemed very inhuman, almost as if it was a monster disguised as a man. The light flickered once more and he disappeared. I was far too scared to open the door, knowing that that man was in there. I just stood there for a few more minutes before the man then pounded down the door that threw me to the ground.
I looked up at him again. He had the look of a maniac and the grin of an inhuman monster. The man was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pants, covered in body hair and short black hair. He was drenched in rainwater and old blood, it really didn't help his smell of body odor. He chuckled a little as he lurched towards me. I backed away from him, he was slightly drooling from his partial gaping mouth. The man picked up the scalpel and tried to stab me. I ran for the door of the morgue and locked him inside. He looked to the other side of the room, back to me, grinned and ran for the other side. I then only noticed that he was running for one of the openings to the hallway.
"Oh good lord!"
I then ran into the darkness of one of the nearby rooms as he tried searching for me. He was now holding a different weapon instead of the scalpel, it was a small bonesaw. The weapon glinted in the light and showed the true intent of the item. The squelching of his shoes filled with water gave me the idicator for when he was close. I got up then followed behind him very quietly. The man had slow erratic movements and got water and blood on the carpet down the hall. He jerked a turn and I quickly hid for cover behind the door frame. I heard him growl in annoyance as he turned back around and made it to the end of the hallway. I quietly closed the door to this hallway and locked it, holding the dangerous man inside.
I picked up the receiver to the phone and dialed the police. The line was flat. He must've cut the phone lines while I was distracted with the powerbox. I quickly put on my raincoat and boots back on then ran back outside in the lightning storm. I was met with the corpse of the deer from earlier. A small doe, the same one that I spooked away with my flashlight, now with a knife sticking out of its fragile neck. It looked to be partially eaten as well. It wasn't as severe as the corpse in the mortuary, however. I walked past the body, and tried to reach the phone box.
The mud seemed to slow me down as I tried to reach the box. The rain didn't indicate anything that could give me a warning as to when the man would be chasing me down. I ran to the phone lines and saw that they were indeed cut. I had nothing to replace them with. They were slashed with the knife that was stuck inside the deer. I suddenly heard a hissing voice beside me say 'hey'.
I turned to see that I was right beside the man. I became as white as a sheet of paper and ducked his swipes with the bonesaw. The man continuously tried to cut my face and wouldn't stop. He then laughed heartily as I was running away from him. I got a few inches away until I slipped on a patch of mud and fell into it. There was a large scrape on my knee and that man was also not too far behind me with that terrible grin, his saliva mixing with the rain going down his face. The blood on his face had trouble trying to wash off along with the saliva. I struggled to get back up and run away. I quickly shut the door and locked it behind me. He stared at me from the locked door's window and then walked to the right side of the building. My knee was bleeding excessively, I had to quickly grab something to wrap it with. The only thing nearby was a roll of linen wrap. I wrapped almost the whole tube over my knee until it stopped bleeding through. The blood finally stopped and I had a sigh of relief. The sound of glass shattering broke that feeling of security I had. I looked down the hall and saw him staring and smiling at me from down the hall to the morgue. He tilted his head like a curious animal. He was now sopping wet and the blood now was soaking through the rest of his shirt and mouth in fine streaks. He was like a giant beast walking down the hallway, his footsteps both booming and squelchy. I couldn't seem to move, the feeling of petrification ran over me like a wave from the ocean. He was getting much closer and I couldn't muster myself to move. He entered through the doorway with a little struggle, but made it inside the room I was inside. The man stood a few inches from my kneecaps.
He then grabbed me by the ankle and held me up. My view was right to his corpulent stomach. The blood and his body odor smelled much worse as I was closer to him. He looked down to me then to my injury. He removed the weak bandage around it and looked at the wound. The man licked the wound, collecting the muddied blood and swallowing it before sinking his teeth into the sore injury. He then chose to bite the wound, not satisfied with just one bite. I screamed and yelled, the pain was very unbearable. I could see some entrails of my own blood leaving his mouth and onto his shirt as he was eating me alive. I was trying to flail my arms to hit his fat gut, but I wasn't able to. He ate a good portion of my leg and my kneecap like a chicken leg and was trying to reach a little higher. It wasn't until then, when I heard someone coming up the drive to the building.
"Hope." I weakly called.
The man saw the red and blue flashing lights then dropped me to the floor like I was some kinda doll. I saw him run to the door and look outside.
"Damn it!" the man said. He then picked me up by the hair and put his mouth to my ear. "This is far from over hun, y'all best be watchin' yer back!"
The man then threw my head down into the concrete, my vision quickly fading to black.
The constant droning of noises drowned my senses. I had a hard time re-orienting my eyesight. I saw faint visions of myself being carried to a police car, then to a hospital room. All I could muster was a groan it seemed and everyone sounded strange. I faded to black once more. I woke up in a hospital bed. Surrounded by tubing and a heartbeat monitor. My leg felt like it was in serious pain. I noticed the injury covered in a thick cast, it hurt every time I made even a slight movement. I looked around me to see a few bouquets, I felt an odd familiarity while looking at the flowers. I had flashes of last night and the huge amounts of blood that escaped from my leg. The flowers were colored similarly to the way the man's shirt looked, bloodstained and a bland, colorless, white.
I noticed the woman dressed in white scrubs, smoking a cigarette at the door frame. She was possibly the nurse. "Mn- N-nurse." I called out to her weakly. She darted her eyes to me then looked down the hall, possibly to someone. "Hey, she's awake. You better come treat her." the nurse said, flicking her cigarette away. A group of doctors and investigators swarmed the whole room. The constant questions and rabble of conversations made me very uncomfortable. The investigators were asking me so many questions at once and I had no energy to answer them all. The doctors were trying to get them out of my space and adding more to the cacophonous sound. The nurse then snapped at all of them with a simple and loud yell.
"Shut up! Leave the poor girl alone!"
Everyone inside the room then quieted down and then only looked at me.
"She might have something to say if you all didn't just swarm her like a pack of piranhas." she added.
I nodded and thought about what I should say.
"What happened to me, doctor?"
The doctor gulped and looked at me very solemnly.
"It seems that your left leg has experienced severe muscle damage and you've lost a few tendons connecting your lower leg with your thigh. Luckily, your leg might be able to heal if you give it some time. But you'll have to try not to stand on it." One of the doctors rolled in a wheelchair for me. "For now, you might have to use a wheelchair to do your job from now on."
"Did they catch the man?" I weakly muttered.
One of the investigators then chimed in very rudely. "We were actually going to ask you about that, but we might just leave you alone until we get another chance." Just like that, all of the investigators left.
"Do you think that you'll be able to get to your normal-ish life?" one of the doctors asked.
"Maybe." I said. "But they never answered my question. Did they catch the man?"
The doctors looked at each other and looked at me. "No they haven't. The cannibal killer known as Bob Velseb only allows himself to be caught. We would be extra careful if we were you."
"Is there any way I could get out of here and get back to work?" I asked.
"Not right this minute, but we might be able to get your physical procedure done before you have to go. The possibility of getting out of here is at least six or seven o'clock at night." the doctor said.
I sighed and nodded, allowing the doctor to leave me alone inside the room.
It was now six twenty-five PM when I was helped into the wheelchair. The chair itself wasn't all too fancy or comfortable, it was a plain old chair. The seat wasn't all too comfortable, it was partially worn and ruined. I hated it by all means, but it seemed to be the only one that they had. The nurse helped me roll out towards the front desk. They asked me a few questions before I had to go. A policeman then walked up to me before I had to leave.
"If something happens to you again, please do not hesitate to come down to the station and let one of us know. We want to catch little old Bob Velseb ourselves. Please do not try to take matters into your own hands. He is far too dangerous to keep around. Just let us intervene if you do come into contact with him again. You got it?" I just nodded in confirmation, I wasn't dumb enough to take on a gorilla-sih man that nearly ate my leg again. "Thank you ma'am."
The officer then left out of the front doors. The nurse at the front desk reminded me that I could only drive automatic cars, no manuals. I told her that I could only drive manuals and then left out of the front doors, towards the police car.
The officer drove me back to the funeral home, dropping me off for my final shift.
"Please keep that information in your mind ma'am. Bob Velseb is very dangerous, call us if you even catch a trace of evidence or know of his whereabouts." the officer reminded me once again.
"I will." I said.
The officer then drove away and I re-entered the building. It still faintly smelled like man inside. The smell of his body odor and the old blood almost seemed to taint the walls, almost like a sponge. I picked up the container of air freshener, but not even a few sprays seemed to get rid of the smell.
I was met back with that same stack of paperwork, nearly to the ceiling. I sighed and got everything done in at least four hours. Alone, again, in the funeral home. Since I had everything done, I had to see what they did in regards to repairs from the damages Bob did last night. I had a sense of uneasiness as I wheeled around the building. I looked at all of the darkened doorways again. I felt secure enough to pass them, but the scarring memory of Bob trying to kill me left an imprint on me. The opening to the morgue gave way to my wheelchair, exposing me to the cleanliness of the room. Nothing was out of place and no bodies were left out. I faced the sanctuary and pushed the doors open.
The light wind blowing against the windows with some branches lightly clacking against them didn't bother me all too much. I rolled in a little and looked at the muddy footprints still on the floor while the window was replaced. Annoyance came over me a little bit. They didn't bother to clean up the carpet in the sanctuary, but cleaned it on the linoleum?! I thought to myself in spite. Nothing else in the sanctuary was out of place, considering Bob really wasn't in this room very long, aside from the shattered window. I left the sanctuary and kind of lingered in the morgue for a second. Slowly, I pushed open the doors and I thought I caught a glimpse of his eyes again. Those catlike, inhuman eyes.
It only seemed to be my imagination, as I didn't see the eyes again. I reluctantly rolled forwards, past the darkened doorways, going only a little faster past the doorway from where I thought I saw the eyes. I decided to not look in the viewing room, as I was already paranoid enough. The front of my desk seemed like the place to be at the moment, and it seemed like I missed a paper. It seemed to be an out of place autopsy report. I sighed a little and looked at my heavily bandaged left leg, it itched underneath all the wrapping.
I then heard something behind me. It was the familiar breathing again. I decided to not turn around, not to that filthy animal. I felt a drop of his drool land on top of my hair. One of his heavy hands rested against the back of my wheelchair, the other dragging along the autopsy paper in front of me. He lowered his head to my ear, his smelly breath going across it.
"Hello again darlin'" he said in his rugged southern accent.
I dared to not reply to him. Bob spotted the cigarette I had lit a little earlier ago. He set down his knife on the table and grabbed the end of the cigarette. He took the longest drag from it I have ever heard then went back down, close to my face and blew a large cloud of smoke, just enough for me to cough a few times..
"Hmn. Now, we might've gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday night."
"Don't-- talk to me about last night." I snapped.
The man noticed my frustration and laughed. He grabbed my head and tilted it towards him, his drool landing on my face.
"Now, now, that isn't any way ta speak ta Mr. Bob Velseb, the cannibal murderer is it? No, hun," He then quickly and violently spun my wheelchair in his direction, holding me in place. "Stuff like that gets ya killed."
His face had a constant twisted grin, enough for it to look far more menacing as he stretched his smile.
"Now, I could just eat ya right here for supper, hun, or you could let me stay, so the cops don't catch me."
"I'd rather die than keep a killer." I hissed.
"Well hun, it looks like ya don't have a choice now. Cause I'm stayin' right here an' ifn ya decide to let the police know, next time, you'll be filed in here as nothing but a skeleton!" He violently shoved my chair into the desk and I fell onto the floor. I felt like I had taken a punch to the gut by the brute. His shove and the impact from the floor really hurt and my wheelchair seemed to be out of reach. He picked my wheelchair back up, slamming it on the floor, close enough for it to nearly hit me. I struggled to get back up only to have Bob grab me by the hair. I winced as he yanked me back up and into the chair. I was a little disoriented now, especially after that hit.
"Maybe I should have myself a little bit of a snack." He looked at my left leg like a Christmas present. Bob dragged his tongue across his lips a few times then leaned forwards. He tried to reach for it until I mustered enough strength and slapped his hand. It stopped and didn't even wince or cower away. He just looked at me like I hadn't even slapped him at all.
"Is that all ya got hun?" he chuckled.
Bob got down to my level and tried reaching for my leg again. I slapped him a little harder, this time in the face. His right cheek had a red hand mark on it as he was facing the other direction. He looked like he was frozen in place for a few seconds. Then Bob slowly returned his gaze to me then quickly and violently grabbed my right hand and stuffed it into his mouth. I freaked out when he started biting it a little. I tried to punch him in the face, but he wouldn't release his grip on my hand. Hitting him on top of the head only seemed to only worsen his hold on my hand. Pushing him away really hurt my hand, but by doing this, it almost freed my appendage. I almost had my hand out of his mouth, but then he bit the end of my index finger, removing the skin from the tip. It was bleeding a lot, more than it should. I yelled in pain and gripped the finger while he swallowed that piece of skin. He growled and grabbed the handles on the back of my wheelchair.
"Let's go on a trip to the morgue, shall we darlin'?"
He slowly started wheeling me to the morgue. I was slightly freaking out as I desperately tried to get out of the chair. Bob used one of his arms to keep me confined to the chair. He restricted a lot of my movement, his strength was unmatched compared to my own. He hummed something to himself, some kind of tune that was indistinct and hard to understand. My finger was bleeding out along the side of the wheelchair. Bob used the arm keeping me in place and reached over to swipe at the blood covering the wheel and licked the residue on his finger. He was tempted to just bite off more of my finger by just having another taste of my blood. I used this opportunity to jump into one of the black and empty rooms.
I sat there in the darkness quietly when he stormed in. Luckily, I chose one of the rooms with the broken light in it. He was really frustrated as the switch wouldn't flick on. His eyes and teeth seemed to illuminate itself inside the room. Regardless of being frustrated, he just seemed to keep on smiling. I was really afraid, he was inches away from me and if I were to make a single noise, he would kill me on the spot. Bob walked over to one of the boxes and kicked it over. I spotted the wheelchair, the light illuminating it beckoned me to it. I tried not to make a noise when I dragged myself over to the chair. Bob started throwing around the filed papers in the boxes. I was a little upset, but getting to the chair was my current objective. I lifted myself to the chair and turned my head. I wish I hadn't.
Bob was staring at me through the darkness, the smile stretching further out. He tried to lunge for me. He missed me by a couple of inches, but I didn't want to stay around long enough for him to bite me again. I quickly started gaining speed down the hall and into the next hall leading to the viewing room. I looked back for a second and Bob was trying to catch his footing on the polished marble floor but slightly slipping. This didn't stop his glare into my eyes, he was very focused on me like any other predator. His loud thumping footsteps just kept on getting louder and closer. I almost shut the door, but his fingers were caught on the door. He screamed and tried to pull his fingers free. I looked around and found something to hit them with. I smirked and grabbed a hammer.
"You better stop trying to eat me or I'll smash your fingers with this hammer!" I yelled at him from behind the door.
"You don't have no hammer!" he cockingly stated.
I smashed his pinkie with the hammer. The force I used to hit his finger almost sounded like I had broken it. He screamed in agonizing pain. "Okay, okay, I'm listenin' darlin'." he whined, I could hear his pain and growing annoyance in his tone of voice.hat
"If I open this door, you will not try to eat me, you will bandage my hand, and you will not eat any of my clients here. Understand?"
"Okay! Just open it hun!"
I sat there, thinking to myself for a second.
"I need you to promise." I said.
"I don't offer any promises hun, open the door!"
I smashed his ring finger with the hammer. He yelled again and it felt like he sank against the door.
"Okay hun, I promise. By the bottom of my heart and by everything I have to offer. Just please open this door." he pleaded. I thought it over once again.
"You need to be honest with me, So say goodbye to your bird flipper!"
"Wait!" he screamed, stopping me right before I could hit it with the hammer. "I am being honest, I swear! Please just open this door." The pain in his voice moved me in a way that I just opened the door to him laying on the ground. He gripped his pain filled fingers and winced.
"Now, let's get to work." I said looming over him with my wheelchair.
I made him clean up the mess he made in the dark room and, to my surprise, he actually put them into alphabetical order, perfectly. I held out my right index finger to him and at first, he tried to eat it, until I brought out the hammer again. He noticed and flinched, and then grabbed a small band aid instead, then wrapped it around the bite. He grumbled to himself while doing it. He noticed me smirking above him while he was wrapping it. Bob became even more frustrated with my expression over him. He then got up and wheeled me to the morgue again. The doors gave way to my chair with ease Bob then let go of my chair and stood in front of the sanctuary opening.
"Go grab the papers off of the desk in front of you." I said.
Bob grabbed the papers off of the desk angrily and tried to read them. He was really confused while reading them then he looked back at me while I had my back turned and smiled, drooling again. He set the papers down quietly and then picked up the bonesaw again. He lurched towards me almost quietly. I then turned around quickly with his knife he had earlier. I picked it up when he wasn't paying attention earlier. I pointed it towards him and the astonished look on his face made me giggle a little. "Whatcha doing? Huh, pal? Would you like to explain that little bonesaw in your hands there?" I asked. Bob looked at the weapon in his hands compared to mine and dropped it on the ground.
"Oh nothin'! What bonesaw?" he nervously smiled as he kicked it away.
"I thought so, if I catch you doing that again," I then mocked his southern accent, "It's to tha fishes with ya."
I laughed and put the knife back into my pocket. Bob frowned again, he was trying to look for a way to get his knife back from me. I picked up the clipboard about one of the clients with a ruptured spine. I inspected the body once again to see if Bob did anything to it. Bob suddenly lifted me up from the chair and held me up by the collar of my shirt.
"Give me my knife right now, hun." he threatened with a grin. I was a little scared while he had me suspended in the air. "C'mon now!" he said while shaking me.
It felt like my brain was rattling inside of my skull when he was shaking me. I reached into my pocket and cut a little bit of his arm. He yelped in pain then tried to grab the knife from my hands. Bob grabbed the knife from me and dropped me on the ground. I landed on my partially eaten leg as I was at Bob's mercy. My leg that was heavily bandaged hurt a lot when it landed on the ground. I held it while Bob was looming over me. I looked up and a bit of his drool landed on my nose.
"Who's bossin' who now?" he said with that vile grin. I tried to drag myself away from him but he grabbed me by the neck. "Oh no, no, hun. You're next up for the choppin' block aside from my arm."
Speaking of which, his arm was bleeding out a lot. The droplets of blood produced from the wound seemed like a river. Bob then slammed me into the gurney. He raised the knife and seemed to be ready to plunge it into my head. He seemed to be hesitant as his grip lessened on me and the knife. Bob quickly grabbed his bleeding arm and dropped the knife on the floor. He noticed the large puddle of his own blood on the floor, and began to freak out a little. I fell off of the gurney and tried to get back to the wheelchair when he finally fainted by losing all of that blood. I landed in his puddle of blood and it ended up trailing on my clothes and my bandaged leg. I finally made it to the wheelchair and took Bob's knife away from him again. He laid on the ground raggedly breathing. The bloody puddle continued to expand as I wheeled past him. I looked back to him as he lay there, almost dying. I spied the first aid box on the wall and sighed.
I turned the ignition in my car and drove away from the funeral home. The rocky road beating behind some of the gravel road. Bob tossed in the backseat while he was covered in a quilt. Him groaning a little lightly in the backseat hardly caused me to give him any sympathy. However, it did make me smile when I was covered in his blood though. I drove into the main part of town with no issue. I drove up to the police station and hesitated to roll up to the doors and open them. Why was I hesitant? The man in the backseat almost ate my left leg and my right hand. I should turn him in right now! I thought. I then looked back to my car and back to the doors of the police station. I pushed the doors open and rolled inside. The police looked at me in shock with me covered in blood.
"Are you okay ma'am?" they asked.
"Yes. Bob Velseb had attacked me again! I almost lost a hand to him and he chased me around the funeral home. He held me at knife point momentarily. I ended up taking the knife from him and cut his arm. Bob let me go but ran away. I was so scared, I didn't know what to do, so I drove away and ended up here." I lied, the tears streaking down my face seemed like more proof towards them.
The cops were taking notes of my false story and then looked back up to me.
"Do you have any idea as to where he went?" they asked.
"No, but he might've been heading outside of the city limits."
Their eyes widened and they immediately summoned everyone inside the station. One of the officers laid their arm around me and tried to comfort me as my crocodile tears had fooled all of them.
"The chief officer then walked toward me and the officer comforting me. "Just make sure you get home safely and change out of those clothes," he said. I nodded and the chief and the last officer drove away. I rolled out of the building and opened my car door. Bob was sitting in the passenger seat, smiling and staring at me. I sat into the driver seat and buckled up. It was unsettling having Bob look at me like that.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." I said. That only made him smile a little more.
"Now, why'd you do that hun?" I looked away from him as he was very much waiting for me to answer.
"Do what?" I asked, knowing exactly what he meant.
"I think you know, hun."
I looked back at him for a second and only slightly, darting my eyes back and forth from the road to him. He got impatient for my answer and said it for me.
"Y'all is startin' ta get used to my company, is that it? Perhaps y'all liked it when I bit into your leg there? Maybe, you have a death wish that you want me to fulfill? I could go on forever hun."
He rested his left arm on the arm rest and looked out of the window. He rolled down the window just a little. Bob was admiring the smells that passed through like a dog at the window. I tried to ignore his presence, but it was hard when he was leaning out of the window just a little bit. His hair wouldn't stop moving as the wind blew past it. Luckily for me, the open window's air seemed to almost replace his terrible smell. I lived in a further part of town, a little further from the suburbs even.
The drive home definitely seemed longer with Bob spying everything inside of the car. I finally pulled into the driveway for what seemed like nearly half an hour. Bob was the first to open the door and look around. I followed along as usual with him walking close behind. His thunderous footsteps stuck behind me as I was going to unlock the door. The door opened with a creak as his shadow inside surpassed mine. He looked around the doorframe and at the small walls. I rolled inside, a little faster than normal. I set my purse down and shoved my keys inside. He was standing behind me. "You uhm. Forgot the quilt inside the car." I chuckled. He turned around and walked out of the front door. I sighed a little as some time away from him eased my senses. He then showed up behind me again and laid the heavy quilt on top of my head. "Great. Lovely. Now please lay that back over the couch." He walked towards the living room like he knew exactly where it was. I watched him lay the big blanket over the couch and then laid on it.
"Hey, you need to get a shower first. You smell like a wet dog." I said while pinching my nose.
He looked over to me like I said that as a threat. It was only then when he noticed his own smell. He looked at himself and noticed the maggots crawling underneath his finger beds. He was covered in all kinds of disgusting bugs that were lightly eating his exterior. Bob got up and made his way, fairly briefly to the bathroom, slamming it shut. The shower immediately turned on and it sounded like he walked into it with his clothes still on. I walked away from the bathroom door and back into the kitchen. I started making some late dinner because I was feeling a bit peckish myself. Something quick and easy would be ideal, so I just fried some sausage patties and made myself a sandwich. It didn't take Bob too long for him to get finished with his bath. I was a little surprised when he walked out with only a towel, hardly covering himself.
"Bob! Go put on some clothes!"
"Well, I don't have anythin' to change into darlin'."
I sighed in annoyance and went down the hall to my room while he watched me. I looked around my dresser and I didn't have any clothes that would fit him in here. It wasn't until then, when I looked at my uncle's clothes he used to wear before he died. I inspected them and they looked like they would fit him. I walked back to the kitchen to find him eating a sausage patty by itself. He looked at me with the clothes I had in my arms.
"Here, try these on." He sat down the partially eaten patty, wiped his hands on his stomach and walked over to me. "These'll do," he said. Bob snatched them from me and walked back into the bathroom. I decided to finish my sandwich, but it was gone. I grumbled in a bit of annoyance, I made at least five patties including my sandwich and they were almost all gone.
He walked out of the bathroom again, instead with my uncle's clothes.
"Great. Now explain why you almost ate all of my sausage patties." I asked in annoyance.
"I was plannin' on havin' you for supper, but that change in plans only made me even more hungry than earlier." he said with a wry grin.
I just slumped back into my wheelchair and watched him eat the last of the sausage patties. Better the patties than me I guess. I thought to myself. I noticed that he opened my fridge and inspected the interior.
"Hey! Get outta there!" I yelled. Bob tried to grab something in the fridge before I slapped him, in the back of the head to be exact. He looked at me with that chilling glare and quickly grabbed my hand again.
"Do ya wanna say goodbye to this hand? I suggest ya stop hittin' me with it." It looked like he was about to bite it again, but then he let it go. He reached into the fridge again, but this time I kicked him with my right leg. Bob sighed in annoyance, shut the fridge door and grabbed me by the shirt collar. He lifted me up and out of the chair he growled at me while I refused to hold still.
"I will cut your head off like a chicken you pesky thing!" he roared. His threat didn't stop me from trying to escape his grasp. He groaned and grabbed a nearby knife.
"Don't make me chop ya up for later hun." he grinned. I stopped moving as soon as he drew the blade and put it closer to my face. Bob felt a bit of victory as he held me this high up from the wheelchair. He spied my bandaged leg again and grinned a little wider.
"Bob no! Don't you dare eat the rest of it!" He suddenly released his grip on me and dropped me hard into the wheelchair. It felt like less than a second when he just released his grip on me. It kind of hurt when I hit the iron bars of the chair. Bob chuckled as I rubbed the spots where I hit the bars of the chair. He walked to the table and sat down then stared at me while I was trying to recover from the small injuries.
"Stupid wheelchair." I muttered aloud.
Bob laughed a little louder when he heard my muttered statement. I rolled past him while he tried to maintain eye contact with me like an animal. I rolled into the living room and turned on the TV.
Bob wasn't too far behind when he eventually stood in the opening of the living room and stared at me. It was still odd that he just didn't want to break eye contact with me even though I knew he was or wasn't trying to kill me. I patted the couch like a silent welcome into the room for him. He only slightly moved his eyes, not even enough to be considered a look away, and walked towards me. He stood over me for a second and then sat on the couch. He only looked at the TV as soon as he heard his name over the police report. "Bob Velseb is still at large, last seen at a funeral home and trying to head outside of the city limits. We will flash some disturbing images of past murders he has committed. Viewer discretion is advised." The announcer then cut out and showed some bizarre images. The ravaged corpses on the screen made me a little scared and sick. That was going to be me if the police didn't show up on time. I thought to myself while sweating bullets and droplets of nervousness. Bob suddenly paused the TV to one corpse in particular. He stared at the mutilated body in twisted fascination.
"That one there, was the best one I've eaten yet." he said with a grin.
I had no idea on who exactly they were, but the way Bob ravaged their body made it look like an animal had done it instead. He unpaused the TV and to me the images seemed like they never ended.
"Some of the other bodies ain't even listed here. Especially the children's corpses. They just listed 'em as missing and eventually forgot about 'em."
The way he talked about this so openly, made me feel like what he does is an accomplishment. His insatiable taste for human flesh really did surpass his need of a normal human being, it was very obvious inside his dead eyes. This feeling made it hard for me to stare at him for too long just because I was afraid that he was going to snap and mutilate me like the bodies on screen. Bob looked at me again and was slightly drooling while smiling again. He quickly wiped the drips of drool as he kept his eyes locked with mine. Just as I was about to get away, he grabbed the back of my wheelchair and pulled me back. He whispered into my ear, up close enough for me to catch his terrible breath.
"Isn't it just the damndest thing how we have to pay top dollar for the best meat when we've got lots of it walking around us. I just love folks who plumpen themselves up and just happen to walk in my path. I find it rather odd when people call me the inhuman one when I am what I eat."
These words that escaped his mouth made my spine shiver.
"And ta be fair with ya darlin', if the police didn't arrive in time, I wouldda not spared a piece. And that little woman I showed ya earlier, doesn't compare for how scrumptious you are hun."
I felt the rush of nervousness surpassed my fight or flight instincts. I sat there frozen in fear while he looked over me once or twice. He let go of the back of the wheelchair and I just refused to move. It wasn't until he looked back at the TV, that I decided to get away from him.
I struggled a little to get onto my bed and get to sleep. I just laid in bed and thought about what Bob said. That sentence rang in my head for a long time before I eventually nodded off. It felt like he was standing in the doorframe and was watching me sleep, holding a knife, waiting for whatever was holding him back from killing me on the spot. I kept on waking up and looking at the shut door. I thought Bob would've found the guest room by now, he must've because he wasn't trying to loom over me. I checked the time for the sixth time and it read 2:21 AM. I was far too worried about Bob coming inside my room and killing me. I decided to get into my wheelchair and roll out of the room. I rolled towards the guest room carefully and quietly. I opened the door just slightly and saw Bob sitting upright on the bed. I silently jumped out of my skin at this spectacle. He wasn't asleep at all, he just stared out of the window, watching some late night drivers go by. I left the door slightly cracked and then I heard him go 'psst'. I turned as white as a ghost. He heard me? How did he know I was watching him?
"I know you're there darlin'. Come on in." he quietly called. I barely swallowed my fear and opened the door a little more. The yellowish-orange light illuminated his very creepy expression, he looked like the devil ushering me in. It didn't help that he was wearing my deceased uncle's clothes. He looked at me with a manic kind of tiredness.
"Why won't you go to sleep?" I asked.
"I could ask the same question ta you. Am I the reason ya constantly wake up in a cold sweat? Why can't ya seem to get ahold of that lil ol' dream you want to escape to? Y'all is worried that imma finish you off aren't ya?" he said with a wide, sinister grin. The punctuality and accuracy of his words hit me harder than a knife. If he could kill with his words, there would be nothing left of me.
"You still didn't answer my question. Are you planning on how to kill me or something?" I asked a little more robustly. He just chuckled a little silently. The chuckle suddenly turned to a manic and insane laugh. I was becoming worried about this change of laughter.
"I don't tend to sleep all too much, hun. That's why the guards at the prison house were afraid of me just staring at them through the camera." he picked at his teeth a little, getting a scrap or something lodged in between. "And if I wanted to eat ya, then I would've done it much earlier."
I then noticed he was carving something in his hands. Bob had a small knife in his hands and a block of wood.
"Do you whittle often?" I asked, hoping to get his mind on another subject.
"Naw, I just like cuttin' things, even if it isn't a person I was about ta have for dinner. I wasn't making anything in particular, if that's what you're askin'."
My awkward presence in the room only fueled Bob's twisted predatorial joy. I had nothing else to say to him and he looked at me waiting for another question. I had to excuse myself out of that room and left very quickly. He laughed a little differently this time, it actually felt like he was taunting or poking fun at my awkwardness.
I just ended up rolling back into my room and left Bob laughing in the guest room. I still couldn't sleep and I knew Bob wasn't sleeping anytime soon. I only got at least four hours of inconsistent sleep when the sun started to come up. I looked at the time and had to get ready for work, even though I was very tired. I saw Bob peeking inside my room when I was grabbing my clothes. It almost felt like I had jumped out of the wheelchair to see him standing there. "What's for breakfast?" he asked with a cheeky grin. "Get out! I'm going to change Bob!" I screamed. Bob shrugged and closed the door behind him. I decided to wear my professional wear today because I was certain that there were going to be some viewings today. I opened the door to see Bob looming over me, his belly blocking my way.
"Well?" he asked.
"W-well what?" I quaked.
"What do ya have that we could fix up for breakfast?"
"I might have some pancake mix and some bacon. Maybe we could cook that really fast and then get ready to leave for work." Bob grinned after I said 'leave for work'.
"I'm staying here then?"
"No. You will be seen here by my neighbors and they are very aware that I live alone."
I rolled past him and he followed pretty close behind. I couldn't just leave him at home anyways because he would just ruin the house like he did at the funeral home. I was mixing up the batter and I was just about to take a glob of the mixture onto the griddle before Bob used his belly to push me away. "Allow me to size these up." I sighed and handed him the batter and ladle. He distributed the individual cakes perfectly, almost like he's done this more than a thousand times. The cakes flipped in the air and were suspended in the air a little bit. Bob already set the cakes onto a nearby plate and they were all a perfect golden color with absolutely no flaws. It didn't take him very long to use every last drop of batter on the griddle. He looked back to me and darted his pupils back to the stove.
"The bacon, please." he said. I rolled to the fridge and grabbed the greasy slabs. Bob separated them and laid them onto the hot surface. I hated cooking bacon because the grease popped and the oil from them sizzled my skin a little. He had no problem cooking bacon, the grease popping at him didn't bother him at all.
He finished all of the bacon in 10-13 minutes and sat down at the table, across from me. I brought out the butter and syrup, but Bob was eating the pancakes with his hands instead of a fork. He picked up the cakes like a sandwich, the bacon in between, and ate it like it was a sandwich. I felt weird watching him eat bacon and pancakes like that. I tried my best to ignore him. I added butter from the top and underneath each pancake and made sure I had extra syrup on all the cakes. Bob went back to the stove to get extra, and went back to his seat eating them like before.
"Why not use butter or syrup? Hell, why not use your silverware?" I complained under my breath.
He looked at me then to the plate. Bob got up and grabbed a meat cutting knife. He sliced the pancakes like this for a while before he watched me cut mine and followed along.
We both finished breakfast before we had to leave. It was a little cold out today, so I started the car before we had to leave. Bob turned on the TV and watched the morning news. The police had no clue as to where Bob could've run to and expanded their search to further neighboring towns. He laughed at their ignorant bliss.
"Them idiots don't know that one of my meals is harborin' me."
I just waited for when the report was over and the weather forecast came on. The weather man finally came on the TV after that long report about Bob. The man on the TV went on a breakdown of the weather tonight. He forecasted that the weather would shift from this bright and beautiful morning, to gloom and downpours for the rest of the day. I sighed as I was satisfied with knowing what was in store for today and went back to the kitchen to get my notepad. I wrote down a list I needed from the store including that Bob needed some different clothes, we needed more food for the fridge, and I needed to pay the due bills for the house. Bob stood over me from behind while I was writing down the list.
"We might need more trash bags, hun." he said as he got to my level behind me. I sighed and wrote it down as well. I then ripped the small note off of the pad and stuffed it into my jacket. I dug into the closet and threw a red turtleneck sweater at Bob. It was also my uncle's favorite sweater that he would wear. It fit him very nicely, like I thought it would. I think he liked it too because it was generally very comfortable, even though I wore it once and it didn't fit. We went to the car and got inside. Bob grabbed my wheelchair and folded it into the backseat. It wasn't until then when my neighbor saw me and Bob inside of the car and stopped us before we could leave.
"Who is that Emmie?" the woman said. She was my next door neighbor and we were fairly close on a neighbor's standpoint.
"Oh, he's a family member of mine. He needed a place to stay because he lost his house. I'm just driving us to work today." She spied Bob a few times and had a curious look inside her eyes. "Haven't I seen you before? Weren't you on the news?" she asked him. He looked at her and she had a shiver running down her spine, I could tell because Bob had that effect on people. He leaned a little closer to her and she slightly moved back.
"Maybe. I think I've seen ya too, darlin'. Didn't we meet in that dark alleyway between the houses? Where you screamed at me while I was throwin' out the garbage?" Her eyes widened in recognition.
"Oh! That was you? I thought that you were some kinda psychopath with those eyes of yours." she replied. Bob grinned and that made her even more uncomfortable.
"I get that a lot. Gettin' old does that to ya." he chuckled with a wrinkled expression. She couldn't help but chuckle too, but the nervousness in her voice revealed a fear that she wouldn't be able to overcome.
"Well, we have to get going now for work now." I butted in. "We'll have to see you much later tonight."
"Alright. I'll see you two later." she said in relief. We pulled out of the drive and went down the road towards the usual road to work.
Bob looked out of the window and watched everyone trying to enjoy this bright morning before the storms started. "Hmm." he said as he watched a pair of kids run by. He was like a cat watching fish in a bowl and hungrily choosing which one to eat. Bob stopped this when we left the suburbs and went into town. The familiar streets looked almost prepared for the next rainstorm. Every street grate was nice and tidy, the police had already closed off the road to the low bridge connecting the town and the wooded swampland. We kept on driving down the road until it looked like we were leaving town.
The sign for the funeral home beside the gravel road helped us know where to turn. The road popped and cracked under the tires and jostled us a little onto the entry of the slim road. There were some potholes and deep puddles almost everywhere on this small road. Bob couldn't hold still the whole time we were on the road, he kept on jiggling and moving at every second the gravel made the car move. It wasn't like he was afraid of the road, it was his fat that kept me distracted and laughing. The long road went through a short bit of woods before getting into the open clearing. The cemetery to the left of the building, a few picnic tables and a church to the right. I noticed that some co-workers got here early and then came outside to greet me. I parked the car and decided that Bob could just stay in the car for a few minutes while I talked to my co-worker. I sat in the car and told him to stay in the car. I then realized that I needed him to get my wheelchair unfolded.
"Good morning Emmie!" Drake said as Bob was helping me into my wheelchair. Bob gave him a look that meant to say that I was busy. "Oh. Sorry." he whispered, reacting to Bob's body language. He finally set me up in the chair and I rolled over to Drake.
"Hey, has the client's family come in yet?"
He shook his head. "No ma'am. They won't be here for another forty-five minutes."
"I see. But have we got everything arranged for their arrival?" I asked.
"Yes ma'am."
Bob then walked over to my side and rested a hand on the chair. He was peering down at me, I could feel his cold gaze hit my shoulder like a rock. Drake looked Bob in the eyes. Bob's cold eyes pierced Drake's like a knife. He looked like my neighbor earlier this morning reacting to Bob's gaze.
"Who is he?" he asked.
I looked up to Bob slightly drooling over my head while he was staring at Drake. I immediately used my hand to try to reach the droplet of drool going down his chin and swiped it. I shivered at the large droplet in disgust then wiped it on Bob's turtleneck. "Oh this is Rob! He's a friend of mine that was interested in the funeral career field. He asked me if I could take him to work as an apprentice. I know it's sudden, but we might as well welcome our new recruit, right buddy?" I smiled nervously while looking up to Bob.
"Oh yes. I've been fascinated by the way the funeral business works." he said that sentence a little more sinisterly, walking towards Drake. I tried to pull him back, but he kept on monologuing about nonsense and he was too strong. Drake backed away until he was at the front door of the funeral home. "Rob! Stop it!" I yelled in hopes of interrupting his speech. "I do just adore the way y'all dress the bodies up nice n' tidy. Ooh, and the cremation process is very interestin'. Did you know the average human body still sizzles even after bein' burnt to a fine powder? I'm sure y'all knew a little ol' fact 'bout that." he was finally looming over Drake. Drake had no idea what to do, he had this big heavy guy over top of him with no way to escape.
"I'm sure we could be tighter than two ants on a log. So let's shake on it, partner." Bob finally said while holding out his hand. Drake hesitantly put his hand into Bob's. He shaked a little too violently with Drake's and it almost looked like he almost broke his hand. He almost shoved Drake out of the way and walked into the building.
"I've never been so stressed out so bad with anyone but him. What is his deal? Do you normally have friends that are psychopaths like that?" he said out of breath.
"Well, no! I've only seen him act like this when he was much younger. He must not like you or something."
Bob was standing at my desk and rooting through my papers. "Hey! You get outta that!" I yelled. I rolled past Drake to get to Bob.
"Rob... Why does that name sound familiar?" Drake said to himself as he watched me snatch the papers from Bob. He chuckled to himself when he saw me yelling at Bob, especially with our height differences. Drake walked inside and shut the door behind him. He noticed a piece of paper on the bulletin board and gasped a little. Drake snatched the paper in the board, in hope his action wasn't noticeable. He looked over to the big man looming over me in concern. Bob looked over at him again, possibly sensing his concern, and grinned.
"Emmie, might I ask you a few questions in private please?" I looked away from Bob and smiled a little.
"Sure. Rob, you stay right here and don't touch anything here. Got it?" I asked. Bob looked back to me and grinned wider than me.
"Okay, hun"
I followed Drake to the morgue. He was a bit nervous and I could tell. I noticed the piece of paper in his hand after nearly reaching the morgue. Bob only took a step forward after us. "Hey! I told you to stay there." I said back to Bob. He heard me and took a step back into the room. He still watched us as Drake pushed me into the room. The lock sound on the door made Bob thunder down the hallway and peer inside to Drake. He shuddered, horrified at how Bob didn't hesitate to move down the hall as quickly as he did. "What did you say his name was?" he asked. "It's Rob. Why?"
"Maybe that isn't Rob."
"What do you mean?"
He then pulled out the paper and shoved it into my face. "Maybe it's Bob. You know, the man that nearly ate your leg! The uncanny resemblance only proves my point and that man is very dangerous." It only took a second for him to realize that he was pointing at nobody. Drake's spirit shattered like glass when he saw that Bob had moved elsewhere. He ran up to the window to peer out of them to see that Bob wasn't in sight. Drake was very scared, he had no idea where Bob could've gone. I noticed him standing in the darkness of the room that connected the hall with the sanctuary. Bob put a finger to his lips to me as he stood in the doorway of that room.
"The sanctuary!" Drake suddenly said. "We need to close the sanctuary-" He rushed to the door to have Bob suddenly pounce from the darkness and grab him by the throat then lift him up. Bob was strangling him to death. Bob growled in a twisted satisfaction as Drake struggled to breathe.
"Okay Bob, let him go now!" I said. He only looked at me for a second as Drake's cries only continued. I decided to wheel over and hit Bob. "Let him go Bob, now!"
Bob reacted to my punch, not immediately. He finally dropped Drake onto the ground. He was choking and struggling to get some air even when he was released from Bob's grasp. Bob snarled at him and almost looked like he was going to grab him again. He ended up picking Drake up by the back of the shirt and slammed him into the locked doors of the morgue. He did that two times until Drake coughed up blood on the window. Bob dropped him on the floor and watched him writhe on the floor. I slapped Bob's arm and gave him a very frustrated look. He only smiled at me and used a finger to wipe Drake's blood off of the window. Bob put his finger in his mouth, sampling the blood. He must've liked how Drake's blood tasted because he went down and picked him up again. This time, ready to bite into his face. "No Bob!" I screamed. "No! We need him, stop!" Drake caught a hold of his senses almost too late when he realized Bob was trying to eat his face. He thrashed in Bob's grasp and tried to pull away. I punched Bob in the back a few times then he let go of Drake to turn to yell at me.
"You'd better quit it, hun! Just let me eat somethin' I like!" he roared.
"Don't eat my friends!" I roared back.
He grabbed me and lifted me up out of the chair. "How 'bout you then? I will crush your skull in my teeth if you don't quit hittin' me! I ain't yer pet, and you don't own or control me darlin'." he yelled, slightly grinning. I tried to maintain a serious composure. I didn't want to show any more fear that I was irradiating than before. "Go ahead then. Eat me if it makes you feel better." I said. It didn't take long for me to regret my decision of telling him that. Bob grinned as wide as he possibly could and started his steam of drool running down his chin. "My pleasure." he said. He slammed me against the door of the morgue instead and tried to prepare for a bite. I noticed Drake sneaking up behind Bob with a silver instrument of sorts. Bob widened his mouth for the first bite, but then Drake hit him upside the back of the head with the silver object.
He canceled the bite and tried to reach for Drake. He hit Bob against the head again, he finally almost went down, along with me. We both fell onto the floor, but Bob wouldn't let me go. He looked at me still and had a very deathly grip onto my wrist. Drake tried to help me to release his grip, but Bob bit him and also refused to release his hand. Drake started yelling as Bob was biting a little harder. I hit Bob in the face, this time in the nose. He yelped and released the both of us. He gripped his now bleeding nose and partially whined. Drake helped me into the wheelchair and wheeled us into the sanctuary, locking Bob inside the morgue. Drake's hand was bleeding from the bite and he gripped it. We saw Bob get up and slam his hands on the window. He looked inside at us with a bloodied nose with murderous bloodlust. Only to Drake in particular. He was trying to break the glass of the window to get in, but it only shattered and kept in its shape. The glass being cracked only added to the way Bob looked on the other side of the door. He then turned around and tried the other door. It was also locked. He started bellowing in frustration, almost like an angry bear. Bob then came back to the door to the sanctuary and tried to bust the glass again. He stopped pounding on the glass and looked at me, with some form of desperation, almost like he wasn't the one that was trying to kill me and Drake.
"Let me in darlin'." he said gingerly. "I won't try ta eat y'all for lunch now. Just open this little old door."
Drake saw as I was rolling to the door. "Wait-" I then unlocked the door and slightly opened it to Bob.
"Are you being true to your word, or do I need to find the hammer again?"
His grin turned into a frown when I said that. Bob also noticed the hammer behind my back. He suddenly burst inside the door and I fell back and out of the wheelchair. Bob loomed over me with a grin and tried to lean down to me. I hit his foot with the hammer as he quickly yelped and fell onto the floor, gripping his foot. I tried to get back into the chair that was now tipped over. "Emmie, behind you!" Drake shouted. Bob was back on his feet and grabbed me. He growled in frustration as he was holding me up and I threatened him with the miniscule hammer that he was afraid of. "Put me back into the chair, now." I demanded. He did what I said. Bob looked at Drake with that terrible stare again, but he stood in his place, drooling while looking at him. "Don't look at him, look at me." I snapped. Bob looked at me for a second, back to Drake, then finally me. Drake was very confused as I made Bob help him get back onto his feet. He looked at the cannibal with some form of confusion and intrigue as I was controlling him in some way. Bob was obviously very frustrated and annoyed that I was controlling him like this. He was very tempted to just take the hammer from me, but something was holding him back from doing so.
"Is he cool?" Drake asked, snapping both me and Bob out of some shared secret feeling between us. "I don't know." I said. I then looked up to Bob. "Are we cool?"
"Like a cucumber." he grumbled. He looked at me the whole time we were standing there and didn't pay any attention to Drake. Drake felt uncomfortable with just standing in the room and he decided to break the silence.
"Why don't we get back to work? That family might be ready for the viewing by now."
"You're right. Bob, go clean up the mess you made and put on the guest suit." I said to him, Bob grumbled and walked out of the room to grab the mop and bucket in the closet inside the morgue. I cleaned the bite mark on Drake and wrapped it in a layer of bandage. Bob cleaned up his mess and I led him to one of the dark rooms. I flicked on the light and it illuminated the many clean suits within. I picked out Bob's size and shoved the suit to him.
"Put these on in the bathroom. Also make sure to clean your bloody nose."
Bob just walked away with the clothes and into the bathroom. Myself and Drake went together to the viewing room and prepared to let the guests come in. Bob walked out of the hallway leading into the viewing room and presented me with his new attire.
"Perfect. Just let me fix a few things for you here."
I grabbed him by the collar and tried to force him down. He leaned down for me and gazed into my eyes as I was fixing his hair, tie, and a small patch of blood coming from his nose. Bob got up and tried to maintain the structure I had fixed for him. Drake opened the door and let the first set of grieving guests walk inside. They walked down the aisle and an older woman came up to greet me.
"Hello dear, I'm so sorry to hear about what has happened to your leg. Our daughter got attacked by Bob as well, mauled the poor dear to nothing but a shred. She was cornered by that dastardly man inside of a restaurant for goodness sake! In front of a lot of people too. A sad day for a mother wouldn't you agree?"
It was at that moment that I realized that the picture Bob paused the TV on was this woman's daughter that we were talking about. Bob stared at that woman in recognition. He licked his lips a little and watched her walk away. I hit him a little with my elbow to his stomach as a way to keep him from staring at her then back to me. Bob put his hands behind his back and looked to the ceiling. A few of the guests looked at Bob a certain way, like they've seen him before. But most of them were grieving and paid no attention to the cannibal in the corner of the room standing beside me.
Drake commenced with the funeral plans as I kept a close eye on Bob. Bob spied the coffin every once in a while to see if he could recognize the body. I made sure he didn't get too close to it to get any ideas. Drake led one of the guests up to the podium to give the speech about the departed. She stood up on the podium and was very much weeping the whole speech. Her cries as she tried to say the words only seemed to raise everyone else's sadness. Everyone that wasn't weeping before are now crying waterfalls. I could feel Bob's need to roll his eyes, but he knew I would be very angry if he had done so.
Then after the speech, Bob's stomach growled as loudly as possible. His face flushed full of laughter as I heard him try to stifle it. He fell on the floor and tried to suppress his laughter. Some people chuckled at Bob's humility and laughed at him. He was slamming his heavy fists onto the floor in laughter. "You better stop laughing! We still aren't finished with the viewing." I hissed silently. Bob tried to recompose himself and got up. "It's not that funny." I whispered hatefully. Bob was keeping his eyes on me the whole time during the rest of the viewing. Drake called Bob to help him carry the coffin out. He shrugged and helped lift the heavy wooden box. Drake felt like he hardly had to hold it with Bob helping to lift it. They got the coffin into the hearse with ease and the rest of the patrons had followed in suit. Drake left with the hearse driver and the rest of the grieving family.
"See ya later, alligator." he said to me.
Bob and I watched them go down the drive with the rest of the family. He walked away behind me as I followed behind him very shortly. He sat down in the chair and slightly sprawled himself out.
"Well, since lunch plans are out of the window, we might as well get somethin' ta eat in town." Bob said.
"Hmm. What are you thinking that we should get?"
"I was going to have myself a woman sandwich with a toothpick of a man for lunch, but other than that, I could eat about anything else." he grinned. I sighed and pulled up some phone numbers for local restaurants.
"How does burgers and fries sound?" I asked as I looked back at him for confirmation. He shook his head and walked to stand beside me. Bob was scanning the names of the restaurants while mumbling to himself. It was until then when he pointed at a restaurant in particular. I moved his finger to expose the name of it. "'Boys and Grills?'" I asked. "But it's been closed for nearly five years now." His realization of the situation was almost comical as he scanned the phone book over again. He pointed to another one and nodded. "This one is mighty fine." I looked at the page and saw that it was a country grill.
"That'll do I guess." I said. I've never been to this restaurant before and for how quickly Bob replaced it for the other restaurant, it must be good then.
"We should get Drake something to eat before he gets back." I said to him.
"They've got lots of great stuff for everyone in this restaurant we're about to go to, darlin'. I'm sure we can find something for him before we have to leave." he said.
I decided to trust his words just this once and walked us out to the car. The car started with a sputter and a kick as we backed out of the drive and down the road.
"You're going to have to lead me there, because I have no idea where this place is." I said to him before we went into the main road.
"Okay darlin'. It's a right, then a left, two more rights and then three more lefts. Did ya get all that?" he said. I nodded as I took a right.
Bob started making his hair as crazy and as unkempt like before. However, the oil I used to keep it down made his hair tidy, even with all of his attempts to mess it up. He unbuttoned the coat to his tux and threw it into the backseat like it was a normal shirt. "Hey! Try and keep that coat tidy! They wrinkle easily." I whined. Bob gave me an eyeroll and grabbed it from the backseat, folded it then put it back. He turned up the volume on the radio and, thankfully, Alice Cooper was playing. Right in between Feed my Frankenstein and Bob was kind of enjoying it. He would move slightly from side to side to the beat, not in an obvious way, but very subtly. I was more confused as to why the radio was playing Halloween songs this early in August. I could swear that he was lightly singing along to the line 'he's a psycho'. At the end of the song, it cut to the normal lineup of either Michael Jackson, Aerosmith or some other aspiring bands. The music continued to play while he looked out of the window watching some heavily wooded areas pass by.
I followed Bob's directions until we met with a country styled restaurant on the right side of the road. I parked on the right side of the building and watched him get out of the car first. "Smell that country cookin', hun! Reminds me of my good ol' childhood days." he exclaimed. I nodded, I only had country styled cooking only a few times in my life. My mom wasn't all too much of a person that would cook homemade meals anyways. Bob walked up to the door and opened it. I followed a little close behind.
We were met with a small counter along the wall. The interior of the restaurant itself reminded me of those old styled Hollywood films about the wild west. A sign read 'ring for service' and a small little bell was right beside it. Bob leaned forward with one finger and pressed on the bell lightly, in a subconscious fear that he would break the small item. The marvelous ding rang out in the chatter and sound of frying, almost drowning out the sound. I couldn't see above the counter, but I'm sure that the small desk was full of loose papers for reservations and possibly bills.
"Hold on, hold on, I'm a comin'." said a man in a southern accent similar to Bob's. The man walked around the corner and stood at the desk. He was decently normal weight and he had a very fine beard. He was wearing an apron covered in alcohol stains and other types of soiling stains. There seemed to be a stain of possibly beef blood, but it seemed to add to his charm. He also looked to be a few years older than Bob as some gray streaks were running along his hair and whisped into his beard. He looked at Bob recognizing him. The man and Bob smiled at each other in recognition of each other.
"Hey! Bobby! How y'all doin' tonight and what brings y'all here with this little lady you got beside ya?" he said with enthusiasm.
"We were plannin' on gettin' some lunch tonight and she is nothin' all too special in terms of love life if yer askin'." Bob said.
"Ah. I see. But weren't y'all in custody fer that cannibalism bull hockey?" the man asked. Bob shook his head, lying.
"I just got out a few moons ago, nothin' all too much ta worry about. Also little missy here allowed me to stay at her home when I came back to my house with a whole family livin' there now."
"You didn't bust in there to find out, did ya?" the man said bursting in laughter, turning into a wheeze. Bob laughed along with him. The man behind the counter then turned to look at me, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. He noticed my leg injury and smiled.
"Did he do somethin' to yer leg, hun?" he asked me. I decided to be honest and nod. The man laughed a little then looked at Bob. "I knew you weren't done with yer cannibalism days, bud! Can't help yerself can ya?" he laughed. Bob just tried to act like he didn't do the crime and looked away from the man's gaze. "It's alright, I won't call the cops. I've been a bit busy with yer kinda work too, but in secret y'hear?" Bob lit up with a psychotic grin and returned to his eyes with intrigue. The man leaned in a little close so other people couldn't hear.
"So it started with two very nosy gentlemen from the police askin' me 'bout my ties with you. They kept on a comin' back 'n threatenin' to shut down my restaurant because a certain someone wouldn't keep their trap shut 'bout me in the asylum." He paused and looked at Bob with scorn. "Anyhoo, I just 'bout had enough, and led 'em to the freezer and blew 'em away with my shotgun. Upside the eyes. There ain't nothin' left from their brains when I was done with 'em." he chuckled. Bob chuckled along with the macabre tale. I was sitting there in absolute terror. I basked in the presence of two bloodthirsty lunatics.
"And in absolute curiosity, I tried cookin' the men I killed, like you. But I don't see what y'all like 'bout that. It's all too hard to make it taste like the way y'all cook it." I sat there listening to them talk about cannibalism like it was an average topic. The morbid detail that Bob was explaining to him about how to cook human thighs made me want to think that he was cooking something else besides humans. The man in front of us sighed as he absorbed all of the detail that Bob gave him.
"Oh! I almost forgot to take y'all to your seats! Just follow me." He said as he led me and Bob to a booth. He only handed me a menu as Bob sat across from me in the booth, his hands folded on the table and looking at me. I ended up ordering a country fried steak for Drake and a basket of chicken fingers with fries and ranch. I ordered a Coca Cola first, then the man came back to the table and set it down. His gaze turned to Bob's. "Come with me. I want y'all to show me how ya cook that meat." the man said to Bob. He got up and followed the man to the kitchen. I sat there for a few minutes. I balled up my straw wrapper and kept rolling it into a fine ball. I took a few sips of my soda as I looked at the fine decor of the restaurant. There were a few patrons around too, but some of them kinda looked the same. Especially the people that wore country attire. It wasn't long when another restaurant worker came to my table with a refill for my Coca Cola. The music that was playing distracted me from the fact that Bob wasn't at my table and staring at me. I got into my wheelchair and looked at the oddly placed jukebox. It seemed a bit too colorful and brand new for the dark brown wooden environment. I put in a quarter and changed the song to the Ring of Fire from Johnny Cash. I rolled back to my seat and saw Bob walking back with some kind of steak with a side of mashed potatoes with gravy on top and some green beans. The man wasn't too far behind him as he sat next to Bob. He was wearing a cowboy hat when the man came to sit next to Bob.
"That was a very interesting method that y'all had taught me! I'm a not sellin' human meat to my customers though, I already have 'nuff problems as is." he said. "But I seem like I have too much of it in the back freezer, ifn' y'all wanted to take some home for mister big man here."
"That could work, but we still have a long day ahead of us. I think we have a few more clients and families to tend to tonight. And a lot of paperwork even later." I said.
"Oh y'all work at that funeral home a little down the road right?"
"I would say the owner of the place." I said.
He and Bob lit up at this fact. "Now I didn't know ya owned the place." Bob chimed in. "I thought y'all were workin' the night shift when I came in for a bite." The man looked at Bob in a partial shock and a sly grin.
"Ah you sneaky dog! But how did you slip up with lettin' her still live? I thought you was much more careful than that, bud." he said.
"I didn't slip up! She just is too tender to let her just die this early. I want her to still produce some meat for me to chew on." Bob snapped.
I looked at him with a morbid fear as to why he's keeping me around. Bob and the man looked at me like I wasn't a person anymore. "That makes sense, but how delicious are we talking about here?" the man said. Bob grinned with a fascination with the topic.
"Like a fine wagyu steak with some accents of either chicken or ostrich. Hell, I've even hinted at some tender pork belly just from her leg." The man looked at me with intrigue. "Really?" "Yeah, even just raw." Bob added.
"Could you not talk about the way I taste while I'm just sitting right here!" I yelled. My scream gathered the attention of everyone in the restaurant. Everyone was staring at us. "Don't mind her y'all, we were just talkin' 'bout some spooky horror film. Get back to yer conversations." he said with confidence and reassurance. He looked back to Bob who was eating more of the steak on his plate. "Even though you n' I are a bit rusty, we still make a fine cut of human arm taste as fantastic as a gourmet dish." the man said. "Thanks for havin' us, Seamus." His name even sounded like something straight out of the deepest pits of hillbilly hell. I looked at them both as they continued talking about my leg meat. One of the other restaurant workers came back with my meal and the to go meal for Drake. I just asked for a box for mine before the server left. They were both eating the piece of human arm meat, I'm assuming, in front of me. Seamus seemed to enjoy the small scrap that he took from it.
"I have no idea on how you make this taste like something else. You, my friend, deserve the title of the devil's barbequer more than the devil's butcher. I'll tell ya that." Seamus laughed after patting him on the back. I started putting everything from my plate into the box the server returned with.
"We need to be heading back to the funeral home here soon." I said, interrupting them having a good time. I started to think a little before I decided to get into the wheelchair. "Wait, Seamus?"
"Yes'm?" he said as he leaned on the table towards me.
"How much human meat did you say that you had in the freezer?" I asked. He chuckled a little with a solemn and murderous grin, not as threatening as Bob's, but enough to make your spine tingle.
"Why, enough to fill the empty gap in Bob's family." he said in a wheezing chuckle. "Why are y'all askin'?" I swallowed my fear and looked him in the eyes.
"Well, I need something to subdue his plans, or intent on just suddenly deciding on having me for dinner on some sunny afternoon. So if it's no problem, could we just come to the restaurant when my shift is over and pick up a load." I asked. He nodded to me and looked at Bob holding the slightly rare steak in his hands and eating it like a sandwich. Some parts of blood got on his white shirt, my face, and on Seamus's apron.
"Hey now, Bobby! You're getting blood on my apron now!" he called out. It didn't take him very long to finish the steak in a few minutes. "Alright." Seamus said as he got up from the booth. "I'll show you our stock."
Bob got out after him before lifting me into the wheelchair and pushing me there. "Wouldn't want ya ta get lost." Bob said into my left ear. He wheeled me to the large doors that pushed open, revealing the huge mass of silver kitchen materials. There were a lot of ovens, fridges and cooktops everywhere. It made it almost impossible to see where the countertops were. The music seemed muted as we went further into the restaurant. The kitchen led to a hallway with three doors. To the left there was a storage room, break room, and employee bathroom. It was to the right when we saw a large freezer and a storage room. Seamus led us to the storage room. "I keep this room private, y'know, to not scare my employees. Yessiree, I make sure this room is off limits, even to my wife!" he chuckled. Bob chuckled along.
He pushed a large dresser out of the way and revealed a big metal door with a keypad on it. Seamus hid the combination from us and unlocked it fairly quickly. The door opened a little and the sound it made as it scraped the floor made it sound heavier than it was. The open doorway revealed a very terrible sight, for me anyways. Blood and entrails of human bodies were littered and scattered everywhere on the floor.
"Welcome to my private meat storage. Come on in!" Seamus said, sounding a little bit more like a lunatic. There must've been at least half or more of the population of town stuffed into this freezer and twice as many internal organs. I could tell Bob was enjoying himself while looking at this spectacle. "Y'all can take as much as ya like. It's only unwanted storage space for when I need to keep bodies on the down low. Y'all know what I mean." he said with a grin. I handed Bob a plastic bag. "Here, go nuts." Bob grabbed the bag from me and shoveled a handful of the meat into it. "Easy now, you're going to need some of that as a snack for the rest of the day, don't just take as much as you want now. Thank you very much, Seamus." I said.
"No problem, darlin'. Just come on back later tonight, who knows, I might have extra for ya." he chuckled. Bob tied his bag full of human meat and smiled at Seamus. "Take care ol' Bobby. Stay outta trouble y'hear!" "You too!" Bob laughed. Me and Bob went back to our booth to get the rest of our meal and left. Seamus followed us a little afterwards.
"Wait, darlin'!" he yelled. I turned in confusion towards him. "Little ol' Bobby has a sweet tooth. If he gives y'all any trouble, just give 'im candy." I took his advice and nodded, thanking him again. Bob helped me get into the car and folded up the wheelchair and put it into the backseat. I backed up out of the parking lot and tried to backtrack to the funeral home. Bob held the bag of meat like it was a full bag of childhood delights. The morbid reality that this bag full of human meat giving him some form of comfort sickened me. I know that he isn't right in the head, but the fact that he inspired Seamus to turn into cannibalism made me even more afraid of what exactly he was capable of. But at least it was frozen, so he couldn't easily eat it in the car.
"It was nice of Seamus to let us take some of his stock." I said. Bob only gave me a side eye. "I agree," he said. "However, I think me talkin' 'bout your leg in detail like that gave 'im some ideas." I quickly changed my face to annoyance.
"I wish you didn't say that at all, honestly. In a mortifying way, I'm flattered, but you don't need to say anything at all about what happened when we first met just like I'm just some item. You have no idea what it's like housing someone that wanted to eat you against your will." I said. Bob only scratched the stubble under his chin.
"Hun, it seemed like y'all willingly wanted to keep me 'round. 'Cause I'm sure that ya would've turned me to the police when you had the chance." he said with a grin. "But I'm probably just a big idiot, what do I know 'bout your ideas on what to do with me." He shrugged and looked out of the window to the shrouds of forest once again.
I honestly don't know why I'm keeping him around either. Bob really didn't make me feel all too safe with his constant attempts to kill me. Was it possibly the feeling of some terrible morbid fate that drew me into him, like a lamb to slaughter? I felt like I was at his mercy, constantly. But he seemed like he didn't enjoy my company either, let alone sleep, when I was anywhere in his vicinity. We seemed to be afraid of each other. It seemed like some twisted comical feeling between the both of us, like two magnets that repel each other on one side then together on the other. We both didn't have any feelings for each other, this proves it by me having to constantly hit him and with him wanting to kill me at any moment. It seemed like he lied about using me as a regenerative meat source, and more like a permanent victim, a toy. However, even if I was his toy, it isn't out of the possibility that Bob would also use me for a regenerative source of meat. I'm almost certain that Bob's charade of not being afraid of me seemed transparent to me, but in Drake's eyes, he seemed like Bob could just crush my skull at any second.
These thoughts almost clouded my mind when I saw Bob looking at me. His eyes wide open, a sinister ear to ear grin and complete with a small trail of drool going down his chin. "What?" I asked, responding to his frightful and unexpected expression. He didn't say anything, just stared at me while I was driving. "Do you need a hit in the face? What are you doing?" I asked, slightly sweating. "You just ate not too long ago! Stop looking at me like that!" I yelled at him. He laughed and looked away, satisfied with making my skin crawl. Or possibly a way of dominance? I had no clue at this point, really.
I finally drove to my place in the employee parking lot of the funeral home. Bob got out and got me into the wheelchair. I grabbed me and Drake's meal as Bob was still clutching the bag of frozen meat. We walked back into Drake sitting on a chair. He jumped when he saw Bob walk in first instead of me, especially with the bag of meat in his hands. "We're back." Bob said, staring at Drake.
"I see that." Drake said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "What's that you have there if you don't mind me asking?" Bob gave a sickening grin before I prevented him from uttering a word.
"It's just something to subdue us from being eaten, Drake. We visited a friend of his and he gave us some pretty solid advice. But I also bought us some lunch while we were there, don't worry, ours isn't made from humans. I didn't know what you wanted, so I just got you some country fried steak." I set his box down on his lap. He opened the box to the delicious smell of the fresh meal filling his nostrils. Drake was a little hungry since he skipped breakfast and had to replace the blood that Bob had spilled from him.
"This smells great! What does his friend do?" Drake asked. Bob turned his attention to him and licked his chops.
"Where do I begin with what exactly he does? Fer starters, he owns a fine establishment with his maw-maw's recipes from scratch. His wife takes care of da restaurant taxes and so on. He formerly used to be good pals with me until I got taken away for a life sentence in prison. He taught me everythin' I need ta know 'bout killin'. Ownin' a hitman business along with a restaurant is some hard work. But he a seems to manage. It's also hard when yer pal is off elsewhere eatin' folks, even after a full hearty meal of grits n' 'taters, during an important assassination. By god, I just can't help myself when I see someone with one stump of a leg tryin' ta run away from me when I ripped it off and started eatin' it. It just gives me a mighty fine thrill when your meal tries to run away." he loomed over Drake again. "Like a lion in the savanna, after a zebra with fresh blood n' injuries preventin' it from runnin' from the predator. The lion only gets so close until-" Bob clapped his hands, startling Drake.
"Them sharp fangs of the lion start a diggin' into that poor little zebra's neck. Almost at an instant, dat poor lil zebra ain't no longer gettin' air, but blood a fillin' those lungs instead." Drake was trembling as Bob was standing over him. He was worried that Bob would suddenly do exactly the same thing as his tale, and kill him on the spot. He got down to Drake's level and looked him in the eyes. Drake seemed to be hypnotized in some kind of fear, preventing him from being able to just shove Bob away. I patted Bob on the back once for him to let up, and he got up and walked with me.
Drake exhaled like he was holding his breath to Bob. He took in some deep breaths and felt relief as I left the room with Bob. Drake opened the box again and grabbed the fork inside. "What a freak. I hope Emmie really does have him under control." he said under his breath as he took a bite of the steak. His eyes lit up a little. "This actually isn't too bad."
Bob followed me to the fridge where he put the bag of meat inside. I watched him grab a piece out of it then shut the door. We ended up walking outside to the outdoor shelter house. We sat at a table together as I opened the styrofoam box to reveal the contents inside. My chicken fingers and fries were still warm. I dipped the first piece of chicken into the ranch first and took a bite. "This actually isn't terrible. It's very good actually." I grabbed another piece of the chicken and dipped a bit more ranch onto it.
"His mama was a cook fer seven." Bob said. "Seamus was one of three of his siblins' to survive past their teen years. His oldest brother got shot by a gang tryin' to take his money. I can only imagine the knife fight they had before one of em' had pulled out a gun. Two of his sisters drowned the youngest in the bathtub and cut 'im up after then threw 'im in the beef stew mama was makin'. That's how Seamus got into cannibalism, by the way. How the sisters died was by bein' chased by Seamus an' his pa, both with a pair of shotguns after they killed the baby. They were left with himself, his third sister, an absolute peach of a girl she was, and his step brother. But the tale of why the two sisters drowned the baby made me rather astonished. 'Parently, in a dream, the sisters was approached by a man that told 'em to drown the youngest and cook 'im. Seamus only caught wind of it when they said their plan aloud to drown the newborn."
I was a bit in awe of this story, Seamus did have a very interesting past, but it seemed like Bob had more to tell about him then what he let slip. However, Bob decided to get up away from me and lean against a post, watching me eat the rest of the meal. He held the piece of meat in his hands before inhaling it. It looked like he hadn't even tasted the small morsel, just downed it like a pill. It wasn't until I noticed him licking off the remainder of the bloodied morsel from his fingers. I guess he liked it, even for how quickly he ate it. I finished the last fry and my ranch then picked up the empty box. Bob helped me get into the chair and I wheeled myself to the garbage can, with him close behind as always. I threw it in the can and Bob opened the door for me. Drake was waiting for us, it seemed. He must've not liked Bob staring at him through the window into the viewing room while I was eating lunch. Drake tried to avoid Bob's eye contact while he was a bit more focused on me.
"That country fried steak was really good, Emmie. Thanks for buying that for me." he said with a smile.
"It's no problem, you don't need to thank me for who chose it for you. Bob thought you would like that for lunch." I said. It was true, I was about to choose something from the menu, when Bob recommended the country fried steak. Drake was in shock. He couldn't believe I let Bob choose his meal instead of me. "What's the matter?" I asked him.
"He's just a little afraid that I might've poisoned his meal now did he?" Bob said with an annoyed expression. I scoffed as I looked at Drake. "Bob didn't touch your food Drake. It's fine." I said scornfully. Drake slammed a hand on a table, startling me and Bob. He looked at us angrily.
"Don't you see what he's doing? He's fattening us up, and I won't stand for it! He wants me to be more than, what am I now, some kinda toothpick?! Don't you understand how dangerous that man is? Don't you see he's some kind of bloodthirsty monster?! You need to open your eyes and see that Bob cannot be controlled. He's some lunatic that wants to eat us, and we know he would in a heartbeat." Drake yelled, almost out of breath like he ran a marathon. He walked up to me and gripped my wheelchair. Bob, also filled with rage, was going to go for his neck with his teeth. "Wait." I said suddenly, freezing Bob in his place. I could hear Bob seething behind me, possibly drooling while keeping an eye on Drake. I took a faltering deep breath as I looked at Drake.
"Bob doesn't want to kill me right away, but he will kill you with a bat of an eyelash if I say so. The reason why is a bit too hard for the both of us to understand, but let's say cargo. I don't want you to die because you are helpful around here. So Bob, back off a little." Bob did as I said and walked to the spot he stood before, not breaking his gaze with Drake. Drake still had a hold of my chair and still had an angry concerned face.
"I want him to tell me what you mean about 'cargo', now." he said.
I looked over to Bob. He smiled with that terrible cannibalistic look in his eyes. He walked over to Drake and shoved him off of my chair and onto the floor. Drake laid in pain on the floor as Bob picked him up and slammed him into the table. "Easy! We still need him." I said. Bob looked at me like he had it under control. "Now, tell him." Bob returned that gaze to Drake, which switched back to murderous scheming.
"What she means is that she is far too delectable for me ta let go of. And, sorry to say it, you ain't even worth the trouble for a whole meal for even a squirrel. I ain't even a thinkin' 'bout you even bein' worth my time to kill, unless y'all try to take her away from me. I will gut y'all like a fish if that happens." he growled. Bob then yanked him away from the table and back onto the floor. He walked over him and back to my side, grabbing my arm and licking it like it was his own property. I yelped in disgust at this action as I punched him in the gut. Bob only chuckled at my action as he still stood beside me, far too focused on Drake. Drake seemed like he was in too much pain to get up.
"Go help him up please." I said to Bob. He walked over to Drake's side and picked him up. Bob held him up before lifting him a little higher. I heard Bob's drool drip onto the ground. Drake started to gasp in fear as he started yelling at me. Bob had his back turned but it sounded like he was going to try to bite Drake again. I tried to move around and find a weapon. There weren't any weapons nearby to hit him with. I heard a loud crunch as Drake was screaming a lot louder than before. Blood was trickling onto the ground from a few drops at first before a lot was spilling onto the floor. I found a wooden plank, but I seemed to be too late when Bob ripped off his hand. Drake was freaking out a lot then Bob threw him to the ground again. He was holding the stub where his hand used to be as Bob was holding the appendage in his mouth. I hit Bob more than once with the plank while he was eating Drake's hand. He didn't care about my hits, he was more than happy to get to eat Drake. Drake was sitting on the floor, bleeding out a lot, his breathing was panicked and uneven. I went to help bandage the bloodied stump. He winced as I put alcohol on it then wrapped it. The bones from Drake's hand crunched in Bob's mouth. Blood ran down his mouth and all over the white shirt he was wearing. Bob savored the way Drake's hand tasted, I could tell. His growling moans of pleasure as he tasted the bloody pulp, of what was the appendage, slid down his throat. His tongue traced around the outline of his mouth that was covered in blood. He looked at me and Drake with a satisfied look as he walked to the entrance to the hallway.
"That was mighty delicious," he said while standing there. "I'll be out over here while y'all take care of that." Bob didn't even get to move an inch forward before I yelled at him. "I think you should stay right here and apologize to Drake this instant! I told you to not eat him, but you ignored me! Get over here now." He rolled his eyes at me. "I said now!" He glared at me with an angry look, until it twisted into a monstrous grin. "Alright, hun. No need to go sour." he said, walking towards us. Bob stood over Drake as he tried to shuffle away from the giant killer. Bob picked him up by the shirt and lifted him to his eye level. "I wanted to apologize fer my atrocious behavior. But I do want to eat ya at some point. Just make sure ya ain't by yerself when I'm nearby, and closin' in." Bob said while drooling, licking up the quick moving droplets before they even tried to escape to his chin. Drake didn't say anything as he just nodded in fearful confirmation. Bob grinned as he set him down gently this time. "As fer you." he said, looking and pointing at me. "I'd be more than happy to devour you at any time I wanted to, but you know, the more meat you make, the more I'm satisfied. So tread lightly when pushing my buttons." He lowered his finger from me then walked over to the hallway again, looking at me to follow him. I looked at Drake.
"Do you need help getting up?" I said. "I'm okay, just keep an eye on him and yourself." Drake said, smiling weakly to me. He then got up and stood on his feet, wobbling a little bit while trying to maintain balance. Bob slightly grunted at me to come to his side. I looked in his direction then tried to get Drake to come with us. He really didn't have anywhere else to be aside from being with us. Drake staggered his way over to us as Bob scoffed a little, then walked down the corridor. I followed reluctantly beside him as Drake kinda continued to struggle to walk. Bob chuckled as he looked at us like we were meek animals ready for slaughter. Bob was walking towards the fridge, probably for another morsel of human, and opened the door to it. We stood there as he was eating a little more than half the bag. The fridge, floor, and Bob were nearly covered in dark old blood. He licked the blood off of his lips and then, eventually, lapped up the rest of it on his arms and hands.
Drake sat at the small round table in the employee kitchen while me and Bob joined him. He stared at the stump of what used to be his hand in disappointment. Bob only grinned in satisfaction, knowing that he had eaten the whole appendage. I gave Bob a hateful look, but he just smiled at Drake's pain. "They've been making prosthetic hands recently. We might have to get you one Drake." I said. I looked at Bob again. "Go make yourself useful and clean up the mess you made in the refrigerator." "Okay, hun." Bob said as he got up and filled the mop bucket with water and cleaner. Drake sighed. "I guess you're right, I might have to live with a prosthetic hand for the rest of my life." The mop hit the ground and scrubbed against the floor. It only distracted us for a second, before we looked back to each other. "I wonder if I could find someone who could get me one of those sometime soon. Because another family should come in later this afternoon."
"When exactly?' I asked.
"Well, at least three thirty or four." 1: 23 PM. We only had a few hours to help Drake get another hand. It didn't take Bob too long to decide to dive into our conversation. He rested his large arm on the back of my wheelchair and loomed towards Drake.
"I might know someone." he said in a smile. Drake tried to back away from Bob's gaze, but it was almost freezing him in place. "She may be a little out of it, but she will help ya with some of my motivation. Iffn' we go, y'all might be surprised by her terrible attitude. But just let me do the talkin'." Bob then leaned back, restoring my balance on the wheelchair. "Or we could go into the morgue n' find ya a new, slightly decaying, hand." he finished with a wide and terrible grin. Drake only sighed. "Trust the cannibal, what other choice do I have? I guess we should go with his advice Emmie?" Drake asked. I looked up at Bob and he seemed like he knew what he was talking about, so I undeniably agreed. However, the way I said yes made it feel like Bob was forcing me to say it..
Eventually, we decided to head for my small little car, Bob carrying his bag of human meat. Bob stole the passenger side and Drake was forced to sit in the back. He was crammed into the one empty seat in the back along with my wheelchair. It felt like Bob had this dominating feeling over Drake, and I know he does. Drake felt too afraid to challenge Bob over sitting beside me, I know they both don't love me in an errotic sense, but like I was a piece of property. I loathed being treated like this, but I decided to not say anything anyways. "Where is this place you want us to go to, Bob?" I asked before we had left the gravel parking lot.
"It's a little far from here, but I'm sure we can make it before three-ish if ya..." he then pulled out a knife. "Drive like yer life depends on it!" Bob held the knife right under my neck and Drake was more than terrified. "Hey! Put that knife down!" he yelled. "Shut up or I'll make it ta where you have no hands to do yer job!" Bob reciprocated while he had his head and knife pointed to Drake. Drake was far too petrified to move. Bob then returned the knifeblade and gaze to me. "Now get movin'!" I set the car in gear and quickly hit the gas, swerving us slightly into the grass then onto the main gravel road.
The main drag from the funeral home to the highway felt more rougher and bumpier than usual. Drake looked like a ragdoll in the backseat and Bob looked like an extra jiggly batch of Jell-O. "Turn to the left." Bob said as we finally made it to the highway. I turned to the left and sped away from the funeral home. The highway was full of sharp turns and curves and I almost felt like I would just fly off of them for how fast I was going. He would pull the knife away from me when turning ever so sharply. Bob seemed to enjoy himself as he would partially laugh on every sharp curve on the way down the hill. We finally made it to the long drag from the forest to the vast farmland full of wheat or molasses on both sides of the road. Bob rolled down his window and looked out to the large fields as we were speeding past. The smell of fresh air was very refreshing, but it wasn't reassuring when Bob was still holding the knife's blade in my direction.
"Where did you get that?" I really couldn't help but ask. Bob only glanced in my direction for a second. "I found it in that big ol' cabinet in the closet. Full of dusty stuff n' guns?" he replied. I gasped in annoyance and frustration. "You got into my great grandpa's stuff?!" I turned to look at him in absolute anger. Bob only raised an eyebrow slightly and smirked. "I pinched a nerve, huh?" he said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, I ain't touched nothin' else in there, just this little ol' knife of his." Drake punched Bob in the back of the head, triggering Bob's nosebleed again. Bob rubbed his nose and looked at his own blood trailing off of his fingers. "Why you little-!" he said as he tried to reach for Drake in the backseat. Drake looked like a cornered chipmunk with a giant dog trying to kill it. Bob could hardly reach into the backseat, even with the knife flailing around Drake's direction. Drake was kind of laughing at Bob being wedged between the close seats. It wasn't long until I saw the flashing blue and red lights following us.
"What do I do?" I asked, a little panicked. "Just pull on over. I'll handle this." Bob said, trying to get himself unstuck from the seats. I pulled over, enough for me to almost be inside the deep ditch. Bob finally got himself unstuck and was trying to recompose himself back into the seat. The policeman got out of his car and slammed it shut. He then walked over and leaned in my window, looking me in the eyes. "Ma'am you and your passengers are going far too fast on this road. Can you explain why you are driving 87 in a 45 mile per hour zone?" I gulped and tried to scan my brain for a good excuse. "We were trying to get to a family emergency. One of our family members is in critical condition and we have to get there fast." I said. The policeman seemed like he was skeptical of my story. The man then turned his attention to Bob, who was facing the other direction. "What is that man doing?" he asked me. I looked at Bob for a second, not caring about why he's facing the other direction.
"Oh he's a bit upset and he tends to look out of the windows when he's about to cry." I heard Drake let out a chuckle. "Is something funny sir?" the police officer asked Drake. He looked at the officer and shook his head as a response. The officer then turned his direction to Bob. "Could you ask him to get out of the car please, ma'am?" the officer asked.
"Sure. Bob, could you step out for a second?" Bob did a slight nod and started to open the door, stepping onto the warm concrete. The officer walked around the front of the car and rested a hand on Bob's shoulder, or tried to. I saw that Bob had a gleam of murder in his eye. I was almost tempted to stop him, since the policeman had sympathy for us, but I didn't stop Bob from planting an impact on the man's face. Right in between the eyes was where the first stab was. Bob laughed maniacally as the police officer fell on the ground with the knife stuck in between his skull. Bob went down to retrieve his knife, but kept on stabbing, repeatedly. Bob's laughter rang throughout the fields of corn and molasses. He got back up, covered in fresh blood along with the knife. He picked up the body and dragged it to the police car, throwing the body inside along with getting inside the car himself. Bob probably was eating the corpse when Drake suggested that we should just leave him here. "That's not a good idea Drake. We have no idea what Bob is exactly capable of. He might just track us back down to the funeral home, probably with that police car. Bob might decide to kill you if I were to tell the truth about us leaving him here. So our best option is to wait for Bob to get finished with whatever he's doing to that body."
Suddenly, Drake's car door opened to reveal a very bloodstained Bob. Drake jumped at Bob's display of gruesome paint that came from the officer. He leaned down and looked Drake in the eyes. "You will drive the police car. Now. More are a comin' this way." he said as he lifted Drake up out of the seat and threw him towards the police car. Drake stumbled as he hit the hood of the car, Bob still walking towards him. He picked him up again and threw him into the driver side of the police car. Drake was cornered inside the police car, Bob leaning in and resting an arm against the door.
"Ya won't be drivin' alone. An' make sure ya keep up. Yer passenger might start to smell if you leave 'em in this car fer too long." Bob said in a sinister tone. Drake looked at the passenger seat to see the mostly eaten corpse beside him. The blood was staining the creamy white leather seat in a very odd contrast. The body already didn't smell pleasant, especially when the blood mixed with the smell of cigarettes and body odor. Bob then slammed the door and walked back to my car. Drake couldn't help but gag to the smell he was left to deal with. But nevertheless, he started up the car and quickly rolled down his window.
Bob sat back down in the passenger seat beside me. He smelled terrible again and I couldn't help but roll down the window on my side. "Let's get movin'." he said, threatening me with the now bloodied knife. I started up my car again and rolled back onto the road, with Drake following very close behind. When Bob thought that I was at a fast enough speed, he pulled the knife closer to him and licked the blade clean of the blood. I was almost tempted to shove the blade into his mouth and force him to cut the inside of his mouth. But I just kept on driving as he continued to get most of the remaining blood off of him.
Drake was starting to get used to the dead body sitting beside him, but not enough for it to just be normal. "Sorry officer," he said to the corpse, as if it would respond. "Bob just has those cannibalistic urges. Even if he just ate not too long ago, the glutton." Drake finished as he was nearly seething with rage. "I don't even know why we're even keeping him around. He ate my hand and now he's taking us to, god knows where, to get me a new hand. Emmie had better be careful, Bob obviously is far too deranged to not be in custody."
We drove for nearly fifteen minutes until Bob told me to swerve to the left to some beaten up gravel road, not like ours, but more dilapidated. The rough entrance to the road almost made it feel like we had popped a tire, or even lost a wheel. The road was heavily forested and nearly abandoned. "Are we in some kind of park?" I asked him. "Just keep a drivin'." Bob said as he leaned forwards in some kind of familiar way in his mind.
The way the woods looked felt ominous. The way this old, muddied gravel path looked felt as if we were driving through some kind of history. Bob looked out of the window, looking at the life from every crevice of the woods. Weeds, greenery along with the occasional crunch of leaves and branches under the tires only added to the atmosphere. The police car Drake was driving wasn't too far behind as we could hear the purring of another car engine following us. Lots of animals tried to get out of our way
The woods then cleared to this wide opening to some kind of former asylum. The blackened, old, wooden building had some kind of eerie charm as it was decorated with stone gargoyles and a large fountain. We drove up to it and parked around the outer ring of the fountain.
Bob and I opened the car doors, I waited for him as usual to get my wheelchair set up. He stretched a little, putting his arms all the way in the air and his bones popping into place, he sighed a little bit in relief. Bob put me in my wheelchair and we both seemed to individually admire the way this old asylum looked. Some thick smells masked the air like there was a bog or some kind of low-water swamp nearby. Bob seemed to enjoy it. "Reminds me of home." he said as he wheeled me to the entrance.
We heard Drake roll up behind my car as he got out and stomped towards us. He was fuming with anger as he tried to reach Bob's face to give him a piece of his mind.
"Okay you southern bastard. Where the hell are we?!" Drake asked.
"We're at one of my other ties. She tends ta be on the dark n' psychotic side iffn ya can catch my drift." Bob said with a crazed look and grin.
"I do." Drake mocked. "How exactly can she help us if we don't know exactly what she specializes in?"
"That'll just hafta wait until ya find out the surprise." Bob finished as he continued to wheel me up the stairs, making each step more rocky than before. Drake only seemed to show skepticism and annoyance as he followed us. Bob knocked on the large doors and awaited an answer. We waited a minute until Bob knocked on the doors again, this time, the clacking of heels could be heard from the other side of them. The doors both slowly opened to reveal a short woman on the other side.
The woman was at least a few inches shorter than I was and about the same colored hair as me. She wore solid black and hardly any makeup, not enough that it undistinguished her natural color or features. She also wore a pair of round glasses, not modern, but roughly from the 1800s. Probably from a doctor or something. She looked us all over and leaned on the left door, looking up to Bob.
"What do you want this time you lummox?" she said in a raspy, scratchy tone. She sounded older than she looked, possibly from some kind of cold or throat illness. Bob only grinned as he leaned down to her level.
"This fella," he said as he pointed a thumb at Drake. "Needs a new hand. And yer da best of da best." Bob was trying his best to try to convince her to work on Drake's hand. She didn't seem to hardly be moved by his words.
"Look, the last time I gave you anything, I told you that you would have to pay me cash for any other favors you had in store for me. So this time you had better pay up, or I am not giving you anything." she finished. Bob quickly loomed over her with the knife and she ran. He laughed and gave chase, following her into a room. Myself and Drake decided to let ourselves inside as Bob was chasing that woman.
The main entrance hallway was huge and full of old photos, certainly none with that woman in them. We came to assume that some of the photos entail some form of foggy history of the building. Drake and I decided to seat ourselves in the main living room area. It was the first thing you saw aside from the main hallway. The large chandelier and grand fireplace was far too spectacular to look away from. The only thing that offset this place was that it was far too empty and just as bleak and colorless like the outside. Cobwebs and the smell of old rotted wood permeated the air, not enough for it to be overbearing, but enough for it to feel like grandma's house. Some of the paper wallpaper that had all kinds of hand painted designs was peeling off of the walls in uneven strips. The underside of the paper was a pale yellow and probably was the cause of the rotted smell. The fireplace suffered from water and fire damage to the beautiful carved mantelpiece. Cherubs seemed to be fighting demons on the designs. The demons and hell were on the bottom, angels and heaven were on top. There was latin writing on the mantelpiece that read: