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Dangerous	By : FlameWolf666 Category: G through L > House of 1000 Corpses Views: 7010 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from House of a 1000 Corpses. All rights to the material belong to Mr. Zombie. This is just for fun and I make no profit from it.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Author's Note: And things settle down… Surely that can't be a bad thing, right?

Chapter Eighteen: Frightful Peace

A month and a half of silence, stillness; no sign of the other officers at all. It was enough to make me feel like I was losing my mind. Not only were the cops supposed to have come with Don in the first place, I had expected them to be here already. The only bit of excitement we had in a month and a half was the day after we had dumped the kids in the Well to Dr. Satan's lair. Otis had left the room early that morning, prompting me to follow him to see what he was doing. When I saw he was called Spaulding from the hidden cubby under the stairs, it hit me full force that he took me extremely serious.
After a heated yelling match with the old clown, he convinced the man to come by the house to pick him up before driving down the back road I had described. I was relegated to waiting at home, given that Dennis would have recognized me and would have drawn a correlation. If she had decided to run, it would have made a very simple job more complicated than it needed to be. So I waited, nearly fainting as I hoped and prayed nothing had happened to the bitch while running from Earl. Earl… he was the one person that scared me more than Dr. Satan. The man had been entirely transformed into some sort of horrifying monstrosity.
At that moment, Otis had come back; Spaulding on his heels with a very dead Dennis in his burly arms. The remains of the dress Baby had forced onto her at some point was coated in blood and dirt, her body hanging limply in the clown's arms. “Take that in to Mama. She'll wanna see ya afore ya take off,” the wraith hissed, gesturing to the dining room before stomping into the living room. Looking up at him from my position on the couch, I felt my heart dip when I was unable to read his expression. Glowering like he normally did, the murderer held out a hand for me; giving me a silent order. Placing my hand in his, I allowed him to help me to my feet; the five month belly I sported making getting up a touch more difficult than it normally was.
He had then led me upstairs, pressing me against the door of our room as soon as we were inside; taking my lips in a vicious kiss. After some extremely rough, desperate sex against the wall by the door; he had given me a rather strange look. Then he had dragged me into bed soon after, things going strangely quiet not long after. At first I had only been apprehensive about what it could mean. Now, an entire month and a half later, I was having full on nightmares. The worst part was, my hands were tied until those two cops showed up. I had to ensure the events followed the time-line as closely as possible before I forced the diversion. While I was unsure what effect my actions would have, it was some compensation I wouldn't be fucking up my own world.
Today I had gone down to help Mama make lunch, unable to stop myself from looking out the window every few seconds. Needless to say, I about flew up to the ceiling when the older woman in the room with me so much as touched my shoulder. Turning my head to give her a nervous smile, I saw a worried mother looking back at me. “We expectin' someone darlin'?” she whispered, trust shining in her blue eyes as they met mine. As much as it hurt me, I would have to lie. I had a responsibility to more than just this family. So, I shook my head, ignoring the hissing from my conscience.
“Even if we were, I couldn't tell you. I don't know how much Otis told you on Halloween but my circumstances make it difficult to reveal certain things. I have to do a juggling act between doing what's best for you guys and what's ultimately best for your reality,” I explained before grabbing some freshly washed potatoes to peel. That part, at least was the truth and she seemed to accept it.
After we had finished setting everything up to cook, a knock came from the front door and I felt dread wash over me. Noticing the look on my face, Mama became apprehensive before moving into the hall that lead to the front door. I took that opportunity to make myself scarce. Setting the stove so it wouldn't burn the food, I made my way to the basement to hide with Tiny. Right now, it was best that Mama seemed as alone and helpless as possible. As I entered the dungeon-esque area below the house, I heard a familiar voice call me all manner of foul names aimed toward women. Blinking, I looked up to see Hugo chained to the wall in the almost empty cage. Only a few women were left now, all of them holding the same, zombie-like glaze to their eyes. It wouldn't be long before they perished as well.
Then there was Hugo, filth spewing out of his mouth while my feet carried me forward subconsciously. I would have reached the chicken wire itself if it hadn't been for a hand landing on my shoulder to stop my motion. Turning my head, I saw Tiny looking at me with concern on his masked face. Gently leading me to a chair, the man-child jumped slightly when there was a bit of a commotion from above us; letting me know Mama had gone running up to fetch Otis. It would only be a matter of time before both men were dead. Once it was all over, it would finally be the moment to tell the family just what was going to happen. A conversation I honestly wasn't looking forward to having. There was no telling just how well they would take to being told they would have to move.
Then came an angry string of swearing muffled by the wood over my head and accentuated by stomping boots as the person headed to the backdoor. This signaled the murderer was heading out to shoot the young deputy while Mama took care of George Wydell. Bracing, I reached across the table to preemptively comfort Tiny. Within seconds, a gun shot came from above; startling the poor giant and silencing 'grandpa.' Soon after came another from outside and I heard Mama calling for me. Calling up to her to tell her where I was, I decided to stay with a shaking Tiny until he had calmed. The poor man was obviously disturbed by the loud sound and was shaking like a leaf. Getting up to wrap my arms around the second oldest Firefly, murmuring in his ear as I pet him like a child.
I never heard him come down. I was just pulling away from the calming, impaired male when I felt a rough hand wrap around my wrist. Feeling my heart practically stop, I whirled around to face a furious wraith. Steely, hate filled, sky blue eyes moved to the hulking form that was slowly getting to his feet behind me. I heard a series of grunts from there as well, prompting me to turn to see Tiny gesturing at his adopted brother wildly. “Alright, alright, dun git yer panties in a wad. Fuckin' Hell…,” Otis hissed, the smallest, soft smile twitching the right corner of his lips. Then he was releasing me to gesture for me to precede him up the stairs.
Stopping to give the hulking, deformed man a hug, I scampered up the steps to be met with a very flustered looking Mama. Blood and bits of brain matter splattered her shocked face and some had even gotten into her flaxen curls. R.J. was dragging the body of George, the left side of the officer's face almost entirely gone. Just seeing what was left of him made a cold shock of terror rush through me, causing the developing babe inside me to roll in protest. This man would be the cause of so much grief and I shuddered as I turned to face Otis. “They took far too long to come here. Why didn't they come with Don? Why did it take them a month and a half to follow up on their disappearance?” I whispered, allowing just how afraid I was slip forward for a brief second.
The murderer who killed sixteen year olds for fun, a beast who seemed to revel in pain and despair, twitched just slightly as he caught the slight tremor to my voice. Then he was back to sneering and glowering, his hands curling into tight fists by his sides. “Police politics. Even with him bein' a former cop, they have t'jump through hoops t'git permission t'investigate anythin'. When he din call 'em back fer back-up, they probably figured they got home until someone else reported th'bitch missin',” he replied, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. A fact that honestly didn't surprise me. The ghoul seemed to hate most human interaction, staying up in his room for the majority of the time. This was the most I had seen him willing interact with the family since that hellish night.
“How long do you think it'll take for them to notice these guys are gone?” I asked, not liking the tense silence that filled the kitchen as the family members in the room shifted uncomfortable. R.J., who had just came back in from hanging up George to drain, could only stand in the entry of the side door as he watched with confusion clear on his rugged face.
“They ain't gonna find us due to…,” he began, before trailing off as what color was in his pasty face drained; leaving him looking rather gray.
“Dr. Satan. Whatever th'fuck he did down there protected us from discovery. That cave-in in the mines… Oh fuck… If that shithead died we're in some trouble,” the killer whispered, taking charge as he grabbed his older 'brother' and dragged him out into the side yard.
I could only stand there, my mind stuck in neutral as I struggled with whether or not I should tell them about John Quincy Wydell, George's younger brother. If it had taken them a month and a half for them to okay two men to come out in the first place, how much time would it take officers to gather evidence about all the murders to bring down the hammer. There was no telling what the crazed doctor's death was going to do to this family or their safety. All the evidence that had been hidden by the rituals could very well come to the surface all at once. It all depended on what sort of deal these people had made with the proverbial devil. From what I could guess, it was more than likely some protection deal.
The day seemed to crawl, each hour the two were gone feeling like an eternity. Every so often, a loud string of cusses from Hugo would drift up from the basement to the kitchen but we ignored it as we waited. Yet they didn't come. As it grew closer to sunset, both Mama and I began to pace as a strange tension filled the house. If something had happened to either man down in the mines, we would more than likely be fucked come time of escape. They were our muscle, let alone the fact that Otis was the only way I stood any chance of coming along. The closer I got to giving birth, the more dangerous it would be to keep me around. A fact that wouldn't be lost on Spaulding when the time came.
His deep dislike and distrust for me wasn't lost on me and I found myself placing my hand on the growing dome of my womb. I was closing in on seven months along and I would have to come to a decision of my own. While I hated the fact the clown would force me to stay behind if he had his way, I could see his logic. A pregnant female wasn't all that discrete, let alone when it came time to give birth. Labor alone could take hours and the whole thing was a noisy, dangerous process. If I really wanted these people to get away, it may be best for me to find a way to separate myself from them. The only problem was, how was I going to do that?
It was also no secret to me just how close Otis kept me to him at all times. It would probably be nearly impossible to get away without him following me. He knew the area around the house far too well, he would find me within moments and would more than likely make sure I couldn't run away. Just how he would accomplish that made a chill run through me as I wandered to the living room. If I really wanted to run away, I would have to wait until we were on the road; the thought of doing so making my heart ache. Somewhere during this, I had fallen hard for the horrible monster and the thought of leaving him made me feel incredibly alone. Not only that but without him, the likelihood of me getting through labor alive was incredibly slim.
Sitting down on the couch and closing my eyes, I felt tears clog my throat as thoughts swirled in my head. I wanted my baby and I to live, I wanted Otis there for the birth, I didn't want to hurt them by running out like this. Just thinking about their reactions made my heart feel like a heavy stone in my chest and I began to sob silently as I stared at the ceiling. Would he hate me for doing what I had to or would he understand? There was always the possibility that he would simply drop me off in a town when I got close to birth and abandon me there. Yet, something in me had a feeling that wouldn't be the case. That part of me had a suspicion that the ghoul would tear himself apart to find me before I gave birth and wouldn't stop hunting even after. The way he held me at night, the things he had said to me, all the freedoms he had allowed me, all of it was adding up to something I didn't dare think about.
Closing my eyes, I shoved those thoughts away. I had come here to save them, not put them in more danger by traveling with them while heavily pregnant. It would do me no good to dwell on things I couldn't change. Still, the tears kept coming; the sorrow filling me like an intense storm encompassing every inch of my body. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice I had company until rough fingertips swiped at my damp, left cheek. Jolting back as fear dumped into my system, my hazel eyes flew open to see a certain wraith hovering above me; his frown eased just slightly as he examined the moisture on his fingers. Fighting the urge to apologize as I knew it would only piss him off, I did my best to stop the flow; having about as much success as a child trying to stop a raging flood with a single cork. Wiping uselessly at the stubborn tears, I simply made a motion that I was fine. “J-just hormones and all the stress. I can't seem to stop,” I explained breathlessly, hoping he wouldn't lose his temper. If he started screaming at me, I would crumble like a cracker in water and only make the situation that much worse.
Silence; endless, empty quiet that seemed to stretch into eternity. It pressed on my ears, not even the sound of my own heart audible. Fear gripped me, rippling under my skin in a palpable manner as the near albino pursed his lips and leaned down so he was looking me directly in the eyes. A low huff left him as he gave me a look a scolding parent would give a child. After a few seconds, confusion gradually began to replace the terror. For a few moments, I was utterly at a loss for why he was looking at me like this until realization smacked me like a brick upside the head. He knew I had lied about the reason for my tears slightly. He was giving me the opportunity to come clean, to tell him the truth. “I'm… I'm afraid… So many events have been different and not just small events either. I can't guarantee what I know is going to happen will occur when I say it will. Those cops… the entire situation makes me uneasy,” I confessed, leaving out my other thoughts.
“Ya keep harpin' on about them pigs… Does somethin' happen cause of what happened t'day?” he rasped, the steely blue of his eyes burning into me like acid.
“The younger brother of the one Mama kills will come to gun down the entire clan. Only you, Baby and Spaulding escape. I want to make sure everyone lives. We have to be gone long before he shows up,” I replied, a tight, shaky feeling centered in my breast. I could only wait for the aura of betrayal, the yelling and condemnation before I was shoved in the cage with Hugo. Just thinking about what he would do to me made my skin crawl with revulsion.
Instead, the killer straightened; a thoughtful expression on his ghostly white face as he began to pace. “Christ, and th'doc's dead… Fuck, we don't stand a chance in Hell of this not comin' crashin' down on our heads. I gotta call Otto,” he bit out, sounding annoyed as he stomped into the hallway, leaving me huddled into the couch as a strange mixture of relief and utter confusion washed over me. Then what he said fully registered and I found myself accidentally asking the question out loud.
“Who the fuck is Otto,” my voice whispered as if it belonged to someone else, the sound of it making me freeze like some frightened rabbit dreading the wolf.
“He's Otis' only blood relative, lives in another part of Texas and likes t'hang out with th'Sawyer family. He almost seems t'have become part of their clan, jest as well too. His attitude would gel better with them more'n us,” came the soft reply from the doorway, making me look up at Baby. To my astonishment, the younger woman looked both bitter and accepting at the same time.
Thinking about my one and only encounter with a member from that particular family, I shuddered as it painted a very vivid picture of the man Otis was calling. Choptop was loud, brash, full of pop culture references as well as jokes and utterly insane. Drayton, the man who acted as head and almost father to his brothers, was just as loud and brash; no subtlety to the clan at all. It was only because they lived out in the middle of ass nowhere that they hadn't been caught. The death of the cattle industry in that region also helped, driving most tourism to 'greener pastures'. Only a very small amount ended up traveling that way and most were sent on by a gas station attendant that worked for the family, a lot like what occurred with the Fireflys. Just thinking about them made me shudder in anticipation of meeting this newcomer.
A loud, angry curse from the hall made us both jolt before we heard a furious mid-tone grit out, “Don't you fucking dare bring that whore's son here. If ya do I'll fucking shoot ya both where ya stand.”
“Please, for the love of all that is holy, don't let him be talking about Choptop,” I whispered under my breath, ignoring the strange look I got from the younger murderess. If that crazy asshole showed up and saw my state of heavy pregnancy, there was no telling what he would do.
“How th'fuck would ya know his name? Christ, what kinda world did ya come from,” whispered a female voice by my ear and effectively bringing my attention back to her.
The blonde was inches from my face, her azure eyes glittering with a sort of confusion. It almost looked like she was trying to figure out an answer to a question she couldn't begin to comprehend. “I know what Otis told us but that only raised more questions. I jest… I want an explanation,” she whispered, looking more concerned than I had seen in a while. In all honesty, my heart ached for the woman. She had probably never thought of anything outside of her family and her home. The fact that someone like me had come around had to be extremely disconcerting.
“She dun owe ya a damn thing. Jest be happy with what I told ya and let it drop,” came a hiss from behind her, drawing both our attention to Otis.
To say he looked livid wouldn't be doing the emotion on his face justice. He looked like the very embodiment of rage. Color flushed his white cheeks and forehead, a vein pulsed in his neck and a muscle twitched visibly in his left cheek. He looked like he very much wanted to kill someone in an extremely slow, painful manner. “As fer yew, I want ya t'go on down with Tiny agin. We got some unfinished business,” he ordered, turning on his heel and heading for kitchen. I had no doubt in my mind he was heading out to help R.J. with the dead cops. Wondering what he planned to do about the coming cops and why he needed Otto but knowing better than to ask, I did what he instructed and made my way through the dining room, kitchen and into the basement.
This being the second time I had been there today, I wasn't too surprised when Tiny looked up from a project on his table and tilted his lumpy head in confusion. Hugo, of course, began to spit obscenities once he saw me; the meager shades of women free in the cage with him huddling into a back corner. “Th'fuck is goin' on up there? Are ya finally gonna git yers? Nah, if'n thet was th'case he woulda thrown ya in t'let me have ya,” he hissed, his eyes spewing malice as he struggled against the chains. Ignoring him, I moved to see what the gentle giant had been working on. It looked like a deformed horse made out of a homemade, pink colored play-dough.
“Or maybe he's wantin' t'lure ya into a false sense of security. Catch ya when yer off guard so ya dun put up a fuss,” continued his gravelly voice, his words sending a slight chill down my spine.
It wouldn't be the first time I had thought something like that and hearing him say it implied Otis had done something like it before. Still, if that happened there wasn't much I could do about it. I certainly wasn't going to fight the fate he chose. At least I had managed to live long enough to give them the knowledge they would need to survive and get away. “Do you think I really care what happens to me you old fool? If I did, I sure as Hell wouldn't be here. But I believe we've had this conversation before, when you tried to cut my baby out of my stomach,” I hissed, blinking when Tiny shot to he feet; the chair he was sitting on falling backward with a loud clatter.
The normally placid mongoloid seemed enraged, his large, semi-melted hands curling into fists before he was firmly pushing me into another chair that was at his table. Then he began to stalk toward the chicken wire cube. I had never seen Tiny act like this and decided it would be in my best interest to stay put. Just as he reached the door, Otis came stomping down the stairs. As he came down, his line of sight was directed to his 'brother' and he stopped a few steps short of reaching the landing. The burned, oversized male simply stayed where he was, making a violent gesture toward the hanging geriatric. Sighing, the killer pinched the bridge of his nose as he seemed to take a moment. “Jest what th'fuck did ya do now Hugo?” he hissed, sounding more annoyed than truly angry. It was almost as if he had less respect for the man than he did a speck of dirt, a fact I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to find was true.
“I told th'boi what I tried t'do to th'lil whore behind ya. Seein' how taken in this whole family is by her whole innocent act honestly makes me sick. She ain't nothing but one of them! Are ya so blinded by th'fact she carries yer bastard t'see she's got ya by th'ballsack,” snarled the restrained elder, his eyes spewing fury as they shifted to me.
In a few fast movements, Otis was in the cage; a hand wrapped around the former patriarch's neck. “She's done more t'prove her right t'be here more in the months she's lived than you ever have in the past twenty years! But ya would have no idea 'bout any of that since ya decided t'go behind ma back to try t'kill her and my unborn child,” came the vicious but strangely quiet response as the old man gargled. Then he was motioning for me, Tiny staying near the door in case he needed help. I could only comply, apprehension filling me as I opened the cage and the door shut behind me.
“How would ya feel 'bout doin' yer own solo project?” came the not quite question as hateful, blue eyes turned slightly to look at me as the man he was strangling began to turn slightly blue.
Looking up at the grizzled mug of the foul man, I felt a mixture of pity and disgust. His wrinkled skin sagged from rapid weight loss and stubble had long since turned into a pitiful excuse for a beard. Spittle dotted the corners of his downturned mouth and his feet drummed uselessly against the stone wall as his eyes rolled up. Then Otis was loosening his grip just enough to allow him one gasp of air before cutting him off again, an ugly smile on his pale face. I no longer saw the man who had tried to cut my fetus out of me while I watched. I saw a pathetic grandfather who couldn't do any further harm. Still, I knew better than to refuse. So I simply chose to nod, the grin the killer gave me chilling my blood in my veins.
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Dangerous