(Warning! Decapitation and more possible signs this was rushed! Because it kind of was)
“So…Why is Robot Santa trying to kill everybody?” Drinking the leftover eggnog, Shark and Sinbad were cuddling on the couch, watching Christmas specials.
Shark looked at the dog resting at their feet, before looking back at the TV screen. “Because his standards were set too high, and he thinks everyone’s naughty.”
Both men took notice of Dennis now, who was quietly sipping at his own festive drink.
“Hey Dad,” Shark offered, “wanna come over here and watch cartoons with us?” Dennis took notice of his son talking, and set his glass down. As tempting as it was, he just wasn’t wanting to do much television right now.
Politely, he turned it down. “It’s getting a bit late. The holiday this year took a lot out of me, for…For reasons I’d rather not say.”
He stood up off from the table, and finished off his eggnog. “I just feel terrible for your Uncle Dudley, what with him spending the good ol’ 25th working. That man needs to make time for himself, if you ask me.”
Dennis then got Sagebear’s attention by tapping the armrest next to her. “Would you like to accompany Grandpa on his way to bed? I’d much appreciate it.”
Sagebear’s tail began wagging. In response, she jumped off and walked with him.
Annette peeked into one of the hidden passageways after she left Horse-Face alone. She knew in the time it took to get there wouldn’t be enough to have him show up first.
“Hey. You in this one?” She called out to the young man. He didn’t answer. Since The Builder had left the base, she deemed it safe to enter without checking.
The sound of machines could be heard, proving the Mother was in here at least. If she was here, then The Builder’s twin had to have been nearby.
Besides said machines, all Annette could hear were her footsteps. She most certainly didn’t expect a hand being placed on her shoulder.
Swiveling around to confront the potential attacker, Annette calmed down when she realized who it actually was.
“Oh, it’s you. Jeez, you scared the hell out of me!” The twin said nothing, lest they risk the room shaking. They just scratched their head in embarrassment.
“Anyway…” Glancing around the secret passage, Annette made certain to remember the other halls. “Where’s that mouthpiece of yours?”
She could have sworn they knew the question would be asked. They pointed toward their mother, noticing the young man curled up next to her.
“I take it there’s a shortage of beds, so he had to do that?” She didn’t wait for them to pantomime an answer for her. She walked over, and inspected the man a bit more closely.
It wasn’t until she reached for his hood that she heard rapid footsteps, and her wrist was grabbed by the twin. Looking back up at them, she watched them shake their head no.
Walking through the mansion now, The Builder made certain to deliberately knock over anything that looked valuable.
“Man, this place looks awesome! Don’t see why Netty hates this place,” they said while pushing a clearly expensive statue over. They they remembered: “Oh, right. That one old prick.”
They then smelled the air, and their eyebrows raised in approval. “At least the stink cleared up thanks to that one guy dying. Maybe now this place can actually be worth something.”
A survey of the area revealed no one around to hear them, something they pointed out quickly:
“Who the hell am I talking to?”
A few minutes later, after all the priceless artifacts were smashed to pieces, The Builder then mady busy by pulling all the books out of the shelves in one of the reading rooms.
It was then that they noticed what appeared to be a camera lodged in the back.
“Hello. What do we have here? Someone seems to have problems with trust and such.” Pulling the camera out, The Builder proceeded to fiddle with it.
“If I know my tech connections, and I don’t, if I do this…”
Annette was back in her room, having gotten nowhere with the twin and the other two.
It seemed that trying to discover the mouthpiece’s identity was a colossal no-no in the twin’s mind. Now she was reduced to flipping through the channels of The Builder’s extremely outdated TV.
“I know they’re a sociopath, but that doesn’t mean their taste in media has to be disgusting too.”
Somehow her finger must have slipped on the wrong button. Either that, or The Builder managed to have their own basic cable show on multiple screens. Whatever the reason, Annette was now watching them on the screen.
The resolution seemed to be that of a low-quality surveillance camera. Annette tensed up when she realized just which house they were in.
There wasn’t any audio, even after pressing the mute button repeatedly. Nevertheless, The Builder’s mouth moved while talking to themself.
She watched as they made faces in the library, and then left the room.
“Now what are they doing?” The Builder was walking past nearly all the cameras, with at least one in every room and hallway. Then Annette tensed up as they entered a room she had frightening memories with.
Her tension only worsened when the front door of the mansion opened, revealing two elderly people she remembered. It was the old man that she definitely never wanted to see again, after what he’d tried to do to her years before.
Hearing a door close somewhere downstairs, The Builder hid under the nearest bed. They waited for any signs they were only going to deal with a run-of-the-mill burglar.
The loud screams of an old woman, and an exasperated sigh of an old man, proved otherwise. In order to make sure they were the only two coming home, The Builder continued to wait.
“I told you! It were the aliens! Aliens came and destroyed all our belongings for their master plan! I tell you, Max, it’s happening!”
“Just shut your mouth, woman! You’ve gotten worse since Bill got himself chopped to bits!” The Builder only wished they could hear footsteps, to know where in the house they were at now.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, The Builder deemed it safe to crawl back out and find the nearest exit. They only got out into the hallway when they were grabbed, their arms held behind their back.
“Now isn’t this a welcome surprise to come home to,” an old man’s slimy voice whispered into The Builder’s ear. “Nothing like some new ass to fuck after my last one got thrown in the slammer.”
Something told The Builder to humor this creep, if just for a little while. They pretended to struggle in his grip, when in fact they could break out any time they wanted.
“What’s your name, sweet thing?” He asked next.
The Builder chuckled dryly, before answering:
“Why? So you got something to scream when I take your head off?” They broke free, and before the old man could stop them, they delivered a powerful high kick to his head.
His head now rolled onto the floor, having parted company with his body. Taking hold of it, they faced the camera in the room and held it up like a trophy.
The Builder looked quite pleased with themself, judging by the wide smile and thumbs-up.
The next morning, Shark and Sinbad found themselves staring at the lifeless body of Silver’s child.
“So…They found her dead in her cell? And the baby was already out of her?” Shark’s questions weren’t answered right away. Uncle Dudley and Dennis now entered the morgue, almost ignorant of the multitude of recently deceased bodies around them.
Dennis’ face was frozen in shock. His gaze lingered upon the dead child.
“I still don’t believe it, Dudley,” he whispered, seemingly ignoring the other two men. “Was she pregnant at the time of the divorce? Because, well, you know…”
Dudley just shrugged, and handed him the papers. “That, I’m unsure of as of yet, brother. What I do know is…” He waited for Dennis’ reaction, which came quickly enough.
“It isn’t mine…” His tranquility was quickly shattered. “But it was our own father’s?!”
Now all four were staring at the infant. Sinbad was wondering how disturbed the Racket men felt, knowing this child would have been the half-brother to all three of them.