Killing Tink

Ch. 39

Tink paced beside the bed fighting off nervous energy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been around normal people. People who weren't paid for being around her. People that were outside living normal lives doing normal things. And a daughter. A girl. Probably an outgoing friendly girl who was well adjusted and happy. Johns girl. He'd mentioned her at the hospital when they'd first met. It all seemed so long ago and hazy.

His wife would be the hard one. But maybe, having patients live here she was used to being around people with tempers or problems. Tink couldn't imagine what John's wife would be like. John had many sides. Kind and gentle on the outside. Soft spoken with dark eyes that hid a thousand secrets.

But the darkness was there too. Rippling below the surface and reading up for air just when you least expected. Which side has his wife seen most?  Maybe it was just the patients that tried his patience. Maybe it was Tink that frustrated him and made that bad side come out.

Tonight she'd be careful. She'd be quiet and friendly and on her best behavior. She'd use a fork like her mother had told her to, and always wait until she'd swallowed her food to answer. Yes. She'd be someone they'd want to have dinner with. John would be proud and maybe she'd get a real room and get out of the cage and into a room with a window.

John arrived silently. Tink felt his stare before she turned to see him. He was dressed in crisp dark jeans and a black polo. His hair was combed and he smelled like soap and disinfectant. He walked past her and sat on the end of the tiny bed.

"You remember the rules right?" 

Tink stood still and nodded, her gaze fixed to the floor. It was new territory and she was determined not to ruin the moment or make his temper flare.

"I remember. Best behavior."

John stood directly in front of her and reached out to smooth her hair.

"You'll do fine Hope. They're going to like you."

He grabbed her hand tightly and led her into the hallway. Tink walked behind and used her free hand to smooth down her nightgown. She hoped they understood why she didn't have clothes.

The hallway was dark and cold and the smell was pungent. Her muscles immediately tensed even more from the frigid air and she halted trying to get herself used to the odor. John's pull yanked at her arm and she tried her best to show him a fake smile. He didn't appear to notice the change in temperature or the aroma of rotten summer garbage and she wondered if it were just her bodies way of dealing with the panic she felt.

The dining room was dim. Candles around a beautifully set table looked warm and inviting and Tink was led to a chair that John pulled out. She sat quickly and he placed the napkin in her lap as she took her first full glance around the table.

She could hear him speaking. But johns words reached her ears garbled and meaningless. Suddenly her whole body felt as if it had been plunged below the surface of rushing waves. Her heart sped up to speeds she couldn't keep up with and what little feeling the cold allowed her was numbed. Across from her was a scene she couldn't understand or process no matter how much she fought to rise above the fear.

It was wearing a dress. Bright red. Sparse chunks of hair jutted out at the sides held together by blackened ribbons. There were sockets for eyes - empty holes caved in that seemed to be staring despite the impossibility if it all. Tink could see peeling layers of flesh and bloated tiny hands folded and fused together on the beings lap, but her mind couldn't process what exactly it was.

On the chair next to it was a taller and much more disgusting sight that she could only see from her peripheral vision because she was afraid to turn her eyes away from the small one. A woman's dress, long black straight hair and a strand of pearls. But the face. A mummified torturous scowl with a large protruding blackened tongue that hung out from the side of the snarling white teeth. It was wearing a dress. A pale blue dress that was stained in colors of black and pale red as if it oozed it's moisture from the center. Both figures were half sitting stiffly and attached to the chairs by bungee cords. Tink struggled to make sense as her instinct told her to flee.

She felt the slap of John's hand across her cheek and the room spun.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I was dizzy. From the walking."

John slammed his water glass down on the surface of the table and cleared his throat.

"Hope. Pay attention. Remember the rules. My family has made an exception to have you at our table."

Tink shook her head and waited for John to tell her it was an exercise. An experiment. Anything but an actual dinner. She waited as he walked behind the table and behind the chair holding the pearl wearing snarling body.

"Hope. I'd like you to meet my wife. Calina. Calina, this is Hope. A strong young woman making progress. You two are a lot alike."

His eyes bore into her as Tink clawed at her arms and struggled for words as she stared at the pearls afraid to look anywhere else. The silence continued until Tink knew if she didn't end it she'd scream. She looked at John for an answer. His eyes were wild and sweat trickled down his forehead and Tink knew in that instant he was on the edge of something that could end her life.

"Thank you John. It's nice to meet you."

The words tumbled out fragmented and her hands shook so fiercely she grabbed them tightly to hold them in place. Johns face brightened and he smiled as he moved to the next chair.

"And my Sophie. Who you know about because we've talked about her. She's the apple of my eye Hope."

As he spoke his fingers twirled the springs of hair and he leaned over and placed his lips gently on her blackened bloated cheek.

"Hello Sophie."

This time it was easier. Tink closed her eyes and saw the kiss over and over in her mind. John was broken. He was beyond reach. She needed out. Air refused to come slow or easy instead it rushed in and out at hyper speed making her feel as if she were actually getting none at all. It felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. Her gasping audible and her heart pumping so hard she wished it would just explode. There was no out.

John clapped with joy and his face relaxed as he excused himself into the kitchen to get the food. Tink was frozen. Her body void of the ability to process or run. It had to be a dream. A nightmare leftover from the drugs or maybe she was just crazy now. The corpses of his family sat and despite their lack of eyes she felt them watching, daring her to do something. She could see the door just a room away but her body refused to make the move. Time stood still.

As John returned he hummed happily with a platter of warm food. Tink felt tears slide down her cheeks. He sat next to her. He winked at her as he placed food on all four plates and the humming got louder. She couldn't process. Her eyes roamed from the plates to John to the decaying dress wearing chair fillers.

John cut up the chicken and lay the large butcher knife beside his plate. Tink felt the pull of it. Her out. The only way to make sure he didn't stop her from running and never stopping.

"Before we eat, let's give thanks for the meal and the miracle of all of us together."

Tink lowered her head and waited. Her hands unclenched and ready to spring.