(Warning! Disgusting implications, possible OOC, and a traumatic C-section! Seriously, this chapter will most likely have a rushed feeling to it, and suffered for it!)
Silver looked up at her son entering the room, with a haunting look on her face. Her eyes followed him as he slowly approached the table she was sitting at.
Most would often show signs of improvement after an extended period of sobriety. Silver was not one of those people. Then again, she could also have attributed her poor condition to the life currently growing inside of her.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Shark,” she whispered when Shark took his seat in front of her. Shark didn’t return her greeting, but rather hatefully glared at her. “I know, I should’ve chosen a better time to set a visit with my child, but I couldn’t get through…”
As she talked, Shark just shook his head in disbelief. He found it difficult to believe that she called him here just to make small talk. He interrupted her while in mid-speech.
“Just-just cut the crap, Mom. What did you call me here for? Exactly what can I do for you that Dad or Sinbad can’t do?”
Silver looked at him, shocked that he now had the gall to stop her from talking. Then she cleared her throat and tried to recompose herself.
“Well, obviously you know what got me thrown in here. You were there.” Her attempt at humor was met with an even icier stare. “But…You know I was drunk back then, right?”
She reached across the table to pat his arm, but Shark only drew away from her. It seemed ever since he entered the room, he hadn’t blinked once.
“Just…Just tell your uncle I wasn’t in control. It wasn’t me talking back then, it was the alcohol! It was alcohol that made me hurt you! I’m your mother, and you know I’d never do that to you sober!”
Shark wasn’t exactly convinced. “‘Wasn’t in control’? You gutted me like I was a salmon. Then you told me in no uncertain terms that I should’ve been aborted. You did and said all these despicable things, and now you tell me you want me to bail you out of here?”
Believing he read her mind, Silver nodded and gave a hopeful smile. “Of course! If not for me, then…” She reached back, and lay a hand on her belly. “Do it for your little sibling here?”
Now Shark was reminded of what Sinbad had revealed to him some time ago, back at the pool party. He knew, beyond a reasonable doubt, that there was no way the baby belonged to Dennis. He had a good idea who the real father was.
Silver patiently waited for his decision.
What he said wasn’t anything she wanted to hear. “I’m not doing jack shit for you, or for your kid. You’ve been drinking for as long as I can remember. You’ve put alcohol on a higher priority than your family for all this time.
“There is nothing you can do or say to convince me otherwise.” He pointed disgustedly at her pregnant stomach. “Least of all that. I mean, what’s that kid going to think when it grows up, having both me and Dad as its half-brothers?”
His declaration sent her into a state of absolute shock. “You knew about me and your grandfather? How long-”
“Long enough. And you’re pretty selfish for thinking you can use an unborn child as leverage against your firstborn.”
Now Silver couldn’t get any words in edgewise to stop Shark from talking. “You told me I should’ve been ‘fixed’, and for what? Being gay? Well, so what if I am! Is it just so awful for you to have a gay son? Was having to live with me for nearly twenty years just too much for you?”
Shark’s rising fury and rage could have put Sinbad to shame. “You want me to be your ticket out of here? After nearly killing me and insulting me constantly? You don’t deserve to be called my mother!
“You’re nothing but a mean alcoholic woman, and you should rot in here for the rest of your life! That’d be a better use of your time, and everyone else’s! Maybe doing that will give you some time to think about everything you did! You’d at least hopefully know better than to try and get a pass out of here, from me!”
With that, Shark stood up and turned to go. His mother’s pleas for him to come back fell on deaf ears. Exiting the station, Shark promised himself that he’d never see her again.
Making sure The Builder was occupied with their dinner plans, Annette snuck back down into the cellar. In the fuss that ensued upon their return, she noticed Horse-Face disappearing down the steps.
Quietly ensuring she wasn’t being followed, she made her way through the numerous bottles of liquor again.
Upon seeing Horse-Face standing at the clone room door, she hid behind a crate out of sight. She heard him sigh dejectedly, and watched him head back toward the stairs. Then she leapt out, and pinned him to the floor.
Annette raised her knife above Horse-Face’s mask. She’d expected him to at least try and fight her off, but nothing. Horse-Face merely lay there, waiting for her next movement.
“Go ahead. Do it,” he choked out to her. “Given what I’ve done to that kid, I may as well be dead.”
As much as she didn’t want to, Annette found herself pulling back. She still kept the knife trained above him, just to be safe.
“But just so you know, before you stab my face into swiss cheese, I’m not proud of doing it.”
“Normally, I’m not supposed to have civilians come in with me while I investigate,” Dudley reminded Dennis as they reached Goodwin’s house, “but I suppose just this once I can make an exception.”
Dennis just nodded, and got out to follow Dudley. Doing his best to help, he kept on the lookout for anything suspicious.
“His truck is still here. And he isn’t one for walking, right?” Dudley nodded to confirm this.
When both men entered the strangely unlocked house, they were hit with a most foul stench. Dennis jumped back and covered his mouth and nose, coughing uncontrollably.
“Best we check both rooms first, before making any conclusions. You take the right and I’ll take the left, brother.” The two reached their respective checking spots.
“I’m not entirely sure what we’re going to find in this place that’s- oh, Sweet Toledo!” Once again, Dennis was taken aback at the gruesome sight. “Dudley! Dudley, you best look at this!”
A few seconds later, Dudley joined him. He could only gawk at seeing Goodwin’s mutilated cadaver before them.
Sinbad was putting the extra eggnog cartons away when Shark came home. He knew it was serious when he didn’t hear him say, “I’m home, Sinbad”, not even a forced one for the sake of formality.
“You’re home earlier than I thought. How’d it go?” Shark still didn’t say anything. He just slowly took a seat on the couch. “…Yeah, that was a stupid question. Sorry.”
He approached his fiance, holding the last carton of eggnog he needed to put away. He decided handing it to Shark was more important. Then he knelt before him, all ears over what happened.
“I said what I needed to say to her,” Shark whispered, opening the carton and taking a swig. “She thought I’d have been her get out of jail free card.”
This admission got Sinbad to look worried. He then looked off to the side, toward their room.
“Sounds intense, and hard-hitting. Is it too hard-hitting to be softened by a visit from, uh, ‘Santa Paws’?” Before Shark could ask what he meant, Sinbad got up and made to open the door.
Out walked Sagebear, dressed in a little Santa hat and coat. Upon seeing Shark, her tail proceeded to wag vigorously. Her appearance was enough to put a little smile on his face.
“Awww. Aw, doggy! Did Sinbad dress you up for the holidays?” He set his eggnog aside and opened his arms for her. Sagebear was all too happy to give him one of her special doggy hugs.
“Why should I listen to a rapist? I don’t even know why I’m hesitating to cut your miserable face into pieces,” Annette spat at Horse-Face.
Horse-Face just turned his head off to the side. “Me neither. Then again, it wasn’t like I had a choice in doing it.” He tilted his head back up slightly.
Annette mirrored his movements. “What…?”
“He didn’t tell you? No mention of me just following orders? Because that’s exactly what I was doing.” He felt Annette stand up, and then felt her foot stomp onto his chest.
“What kind of orders require you to rape some kid?”
Horse-Face wheezed from the impact he’d just felt. “Trust me, the guy that issued them, he was a sick fuck. But that sick fuck had the power to make heads roll if I refused, so…”
His mask tilted up to look in her direction again. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had to do things you didn’t want to do in the past.” His words cut through her now.
Now he was shaking, and covered the eye holes of his mask to hide his tears. “I tried to help the kid afterwards, I swear! I did my best under the circumstances! I…I…”
His words were incoherent now, lost to a sea of blubbering and sobbing. Annette looked at him now, and thought he was simply pathetic now.
In a show of (what she believed to be) undeserved sympathy, Annette stepped off of him, and left him to cry on the floor. She could hear him hiccup and mutter to himself as she exited the cellar.
“I tried…I tried…”
Dennis stood out of the way as Dudley took pictures of Goodwin’s body. Already the image was burned into his own mind, whether there were pictures or not.
“Whoever did that to him, clearly they wanted him to suffer,” he said when Dudley finally threw a sheet over the corpse.
“Looks to be that way, yes,” Dudley said before making his way to the bedroom door. “And this may just be a hunch, but the other room may have the reasons why.”
In confusion, Dennis followed him. He knew most brutal murders often had motives, though.
Reaching the other bedroom, Dennis now assumed what one of them could be.
“That’s…” He covered his eyes when he realized what he was looking at. “Oh, hell, that was my daughter’s. You don’t think he would…”
Dudley just shrugged. “It’s a possibility. I’d also heard he’d recently taken in Miss Bull, and her son. There’s no sight of either of them here, so…”
The picture being painted now was most definitely not a pretty one. Dennis ended up sitting on the floor in an effort to take in what might have happened.
“Wow! I can smell the booze on you,” The Builder stated bluntly when Annette entered their room. “Need I remind you that your drinking problem got you in trouble in the first place?”
Annette didn’t bother giving them an answer. She instead sat on the bed, and lay back. For once, she hadn’t touched any of the liquor in the cellar. There was just so much of it.
“Oh, gonna stonewall me now, eh Netty? Newsflash: That ain’t gonna do you much good in the long run.”
They pulled out their hand, wiggling their fingers at her now. “And last I checked, this,” they gestured to the red-streaked heliotrope ring, “is kind of what’s keeping you here with me.”
Annette just glared at them, crossing her arms. Seeing she wasn’t budging, they just shrugged and pulled their knife out again.
“Well, if you can’t hold a conversation with me, best I get back to finishing my to-do list. Those morons won’t murder themselves, you know.” Swinging their knife forward, a tear formed in front of them.
Giving a quick wave to Annette, The Builder stepped back through.
Shark was petting the wiggly puppy when Sinbad took a picture. He could just see the joy and happiness on Shark’s face as Sagebear gave him dog kisses.
“So…Is this holiday any better thanks to her?” Much to Sinbad’s relief, Shark nodded.
“It’s better thanks to the both of you.” Reluctantly, Shark stood back up and wrapped his arms around Sinbad. Sagebear took the opportunity to trot back to their room.
Not worrying about dog slobber on Shark’s face, Sinbad nuzzled his cheek and held him closer. His own attempt at giving a smooch, however, was interrupted when Sagebear came back with Shark’s teddy bear.
Sagebear leaned onto their legs, still wagging her tail. All too happily, Shark reached down and took his bear from her.
“You’re the cutest Santa ever, puppy,” he said to her while petting her head. Now it was Sinbad’s turn to hold him in his arms.
“So…decent holiday after all?” Quietly, Shark nodded.
“I’m still upset about a lot of stuff, but…” He moved back into Sinbad’s embrace. “I know better than to let it ruin our holiday together.”
That night, Silver lay in her prison cell, sobbing uncontrollably. She clutched her belly, unsure as to whether the baby inside had listened to their half-brother’s tirade from earlier.
“But that wasn’t me that day saying all that to him! It was the alcohol!” She hollered to herself. Nearby a voice answered mockingly.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” In an instant, Silver felt her throat gashed. She was then pushed onto her back, and felt someone cutting into her stomach.
Bleeding uncontrollably, Silver could only watch as someone yanked her child out of her stomach.
“Ewww, this one smells like it’s way past the expiration date. I ain’t eating this.” These were the last words Silver ever heard. Feeling her oddly silent child dropped onto her chest, the person before her disappeared into thin air.
Now left with only her apparently stillborn child for company, Silver’s final moments were spent bleeding to death.