Amelia was still looking out the window, looking for any sign that the others were coming back. Every minute that went by with no sight of them, and she became even more distraught.
“What if they never come back? What if they’ve been killed on the way?” She asked her sister in a wavering voice.
Amara came up to her, before handing her a submarine sandwich from a plate of food she’d been making.
“Don’t worry, sister,” she said to her. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. After all, they’re part of…”
Then she stopped. Rather than finish her thought, Amara just sat down next to Amelia and partook in the snack plate she’d made.
With the awkward speed that thing had gone, Shark and Harwood were now escorted into a rather unusually well-furnished room. The place seemed almost too elaborate for the events which were about to transpire in it.
Shark just awkwardly sat on one side of the bed, trying not to look at Harwood. The feeling appeared to be mutual.
In an effort to keep himself from thinking about what was to happen, Shark took a long glance about the room. His gaze fell upon a bottle situated on a nearby nightstand.
“There’s booze in here…” He said quietly.
Harwood turned to look behind his shoulder, staring at it himself. “So there is.” The way he said it so casually got Shark to bury his face into his hands.
“I hate alcohol,” He murmured. “My biological mom was an alcoholic. She would always start her day with a mimosa at her bedside.”
He went on. “Sometimes I didn’t get lunch money because she spent it all on strawberry daiquiri ingredients. And I could smell whiskey on her breath the day she stabbed me.”
Now Harwood was startled by this admission. “Eh…?”
“You heard me. The point is that she always put alcohol on a higher priority than me. My feelings for her didn’t get better when I find out she’d been sleeping with my grandpa.”
Shark went quiet now. Harwood got to his knees and crawled over to him. When he put a hand onto his shoulder, Shark then responded by looking at him.
“Turning into my mother was my worst nightmare. And now look, it’s happening.”
The Twin and Horse-Face’s companion were interrupted by their new arrivals. The group that arrived appeared to feel the same way.
“Oh hell, now where are we?” Blaise said mostly to the two originally there. “It’s like a maze got shoved into a crooked house, then got shoved into a haunted house!”
“That made little sense to me, and I agree with you, dear!” Dennis told his wife as Marc approached the young man with Sagebear.
Once Sagebear got close enough, she began to sniff The Twin’s feet. The Twin responded by petting her slowly.
“I’m probably gonna be asking the stupid question here, but what’s going on?” Marc asked of the two.
The Twin stopped petting Sagebear, and began to think of how to explain the current events. Then, they leaned over and pulled the young man closer.
Shark and Harwood now sat facing each other, one trying to assure the other did not in fact become his mother.
“I’m sure you don’t want to do this. From what I gather, your mother willingly slept with your grandfather. This isn’t exactly willing,” Harwood said to Shark.
Harwood then put a finger to Shark’s lips. “No buts. We’re doing this for Sinbad’s sake. All right?”
Shark didn’t answer him. Instead, he reached down and began undoing his shirt, much to Harwood’s confusion. When his chest and stomach were exposed, he pointed out the scars on him.
“That’s where she stabbed me. Sinbad told me that if she’d gotten me any more to the left, I would’ve been dead.”
With a morbid fascination, Harwood traced his finger down the scars. This simple touch got Shark to shudder a little. Just as quickly as he started, though, Harwood pulled back.
“What is it?” Shark watched as Harwood took hold of the hair covering his face.
“You were kind enough to show me yours,” Harwood murmured. “It’s only fair that I show you mine.”
Once Harwood pulled back his hair, Shark gasped at the sight that lay beneath.
Annette just sat in a chair, holding a camcorder while The Builder antagonized Sinbad.
Holding a feather in their hand, The Builder grinned nastily as they used it to tickle Sinbad’s nose. Sinbad himself couldn’t get away, now being locked in a cage.
“I really don’t see what the point of tormenting him is,” she said to them finally.
The Builder looked up briefly at her, then pouted. “Who says there needs to be a point? Maybe I’m doing it because he’s a worthless human.”
With this, they circled around behind him, and made to punch him in the back. Before Annette could stop them, The Builder’s fist connected with Sinbad, causing the predicted reaction to occur.
“There we go,” The Builder said rather smugly. They then grabbed a nearby water bottle, and proceeded to spray a raging Sinbad with it.
Once more, they looked at Annette. “Yeah, go see if they’re ready yet. I’m just gonna stay here and douse this feral man-mutt.”
With that order, Annette did as she was told. Her last glimpse in the room was at a now very wet Sinbad, who was trying to lash out at The Builder.
The sight that Shark now bore witness to was a sobering one. He now understood why Harwood had such an unusual hairstyle for a man of his age.
Nearly the entire half of Harwood’s face was badly scarred. The unpleasant sight looked angry, even though it had to have been at least several years old.
“This is from…” Carefully, Shark reached out to touch the scars. They all felt strangely smooth, yet bumpy. He then reached a spot where Harwood’s eye should have been, but it was most certainly not there.
Knowing what Shark was trying to say, Harwood nodded.
“Plastic surgery could only do so much at that point, Shark,” he said to him.
Just trying to imagine what Harwood had been through made Shark’s heart ache with sympathy. In a sort of impulse action, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Harwood’s damaged cheek.
In return, Harwood turned his face and returned Shark’s kiss. After a slight bit of surprise, the two leaned into it.
However, both of them were interrupted by Annette entering the room, and taking a seat nearby. Harwood had a good idea as to why she was there.
“I guess we better start this,” he whispered to Shark. Then to Annette, he smirked and told her, “Try to get my good side.”
Annette tried not to cringe at the pathetic attempt at humor. She just turned on the camcorder, and pointed it at the two of them.
Once they knew the camera was rolling, Harwood gently pushed Shark onto the bed, and started kissing him again. Shark just carefully wrapped his arms around Harwood, doing what he felt was important to keep Sinbad from dying.