FIDDLEFORD APPRECIATION MONTH. Week one- parallel Fiddleford

Day 10

Warning: mentions of violence, blood and abuse.

Fiddleford sighed deeply as he placed his grimy motel keys on the side table and shut the door behind him. The motel was damp and smelt of mould. The wall paper was slightly curling away from the walls and there had to be at least five different moths that shared his room. Fiddleford walked across the room that doubled as his kitchen and bedroom. The floor boards creaked under his feet as he moved toward the bathroom.
He flicked the bathroom light switch that seemed loose and one water splash away from a fire. Fiddleford gave himself yet another mental note to fix it, for some reason he kept forgetting. As he moved further into the tiled room he directed his attention to the small mirror with a chipped corner hanging wonkily on the wall.
As he drew closer to it his bruised cheek came into focus. He gently touched the sensitive spot before wincing and pulling away. Today's meeting hadn't gone too well, as two of the members were bringing in the next man that needed help forgetting had gotten free and took a swing at Fiddleford. The memory gun almost hit the floor but luckily Ivan saved it before landing on the concrete ground.
Fiddleford shook his head at that memory, it was a happy ending they helped him forget, end of story. He focused back on the image of him in the mirror. He needed to shave again and cover up that bruise with make up. Fidd looked down at the sink and pulled open the drawer to fetch some concealer. Why did he have concealer? He shrugged off the thought and opened the lid with a satisfying click. Fiddleford plunged two fingers into the substance, it felt soft and cool against his skin. He then pulled his fingers up to his cheek and gently applied the make up to his face. As he began to blend the concealer into his skin he felt a sense of familiarity run through him. Images flashed in and out of his mind at rapid pace. He felt weak at the sudden over flow of memories.
Yellow eyes. Wide grin. Six fingers. On his neck. Cold, bitter lips that once were warm and soft encase his. Hair pulling. Bite. Blood dribbling down his chin. Tears. Weak. Evil cackle. Cries of pain. The floor. Cold and hard. Concealer. Secrets hidden. Memories forgot. Blinded lover.
Fiddleford fell to the ground as his legs buckled from the rush. His head pounded with the sudden waves of unlocked secrets and troubling memories. Fiddleford crashed against the radiator, almost pulling it off the wall. He cried with pain and clutched onto his head. His vision faded in and out of focus as he began to loose consciousness. His glasses ascu on his face as his eyes closed for the final time and his head flopped.
He woke up a few minutes later. Eyes flickering open as he adjusted to the light once again. A high pitch ringing echoed through his head as he sat up. Fidd groaned in pain as he felt the marks the radiator had made in his back. He fixed his glasses and wiped the tear stains from his cheeks. Slowly he reached for the sink and pulled himself up to his feet.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Mr Mcgucket? We've been given a concerned message from your neighbor. Is everything okay in there?" A voice came from behind the door. He looked up in alarm before taking a deep breath and staggering out of the bathroom towards the door.
He twisted the lock and opened the door to one of the secretaries and the motel owner. They both looked concerned but relieved to see him. "Mrs Johnson said she heard a loud thud and crying coming from your room and we just came to see-" "Everything is absolutely fine, I j-just tripped over" he stuttered. "But your cheek?" She questioned further. His gaze widened slightly, how was he going to explain that? "I-ur....i, at work today, s-someone accidentally hit me. I'm fine" he tried his best to smile, as to not raise suspicion. The receptionist and owner looked strangely at him for a few seconds before shrugging with a smile. "Well if everything's alright, well be going. Have a good evening Mr Mcgucket" she waved goodbye with a chipper tone before leaving, the owner following behind her.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door behind him. He gently skimmed his fingers over his cheek. "Where did I put my memory gun?" He whispered to himself before rummaging around the room, desperate to forget once again