Mary opens her eyes, squinting into the light. Sunlight peers through filth on the windows, fractured by the tattered remains of rotted curtains. Peeling yellowed newspaper serves as wallpaper surrounding the window.
Mary's eyes move across the walls to a painting of a big eyed kitten. She stares at it and smiles. A look of horror begins to appear on her face. She begins to scream uncontrollably.
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
Mary only screamed louder wondering where the hell she was!
"I said shut your mouth!"
Then Mary pieced it together she was tied to a chair in that albino freaks room! She started struggling to get out of her binds only to find that there to tight to wiggle out of.
She heard footsteps loud footsteps coming from behind her then the chair she was in was spun around violently and she was face to face with him.
"Listen, you Malibu Barbie middle class piece of shit. I'm trying to work, you got me, work... you ever work?!" he screamed, Mary eyes scream with terror, she nods yes.
"Yeah, I'll bet you did. Scooping ice cream to your shitheel friends on Summer break... well, I ain't talking about white socks with Mickey Mouse on one side and Donald Duck on the other... shit, you ain't reading no funny books, mamma."
Otis raises his paint covered hand, "This is blood and guts, Suzy Q. Our bodies come and go, but this blood is forever…" he pulls a small book from his breast pocket, "...let me read you something, listen and learn... you listening?"
Otis pulls back his hand, ready to backhand her across Mary nodded her head fast hurting her neck in the process, and He lowers the book.
"And the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirms That the play is the tragedy "Man" And its hero the Conqueror Worm"
Mary stares dumbfounded strangely she…understood it…she actually understood it….
"...you get that? Art is eternal, you get me, mama?"
Mary nodded her head much to Otis surprise, "Well then Mama I'm going to remove your gag but if you make a fucking pep I swear I'll slit you open and make you eat your own fucking intestines... you get me?"
She nods again. He slowly removes his gag from her mouth. Mary tries to remain calm, but starts to hyperventilate. Tears roll down her face.
"Why? Why are you doing this?" she asks,
Otis laughs "Doing what? Messy up your day? Well, fuck lady there are some bigger issues at hand... than your fucking have a nice fucking day bumper sticker shit!"
"Where's Bill?" she bagged "Please tell me!"
"Well, Bill... he's a good guy, he's been great help to me... a real blessing... I couldn't have asked for a better specimen. I mean you don't know what a dry spell I've had, total block…...total block... " He told her as he hit himself repeatedly on the forehead,
"….but Bill he's OK."
Mary looks at him in confusion, but is relieved….for the moment anyway, "Where is he? Can I see him?" Otis grabs the back of the chair and drags her across the room towards a curtained off area, "Let's go see" he smiled at her.
Otis parks her in front of an area that was covered by a sheet, He smiles as he pulls the sheet back, Mary's feeling of relief was dropped "Bill? No, no, no! What have you done?
Bill!" Mary cried out fighting to get out of her binds.
Ugliness. Decay. Pain. Carefully arranged on a model's platform is the severed torso of Bill sewn to a large homemade fish tail. He is lying on his ride side posing. Bill's face is frozen in a death scream.
"Behold... The Fish-Boy!" Otis cried almost proudly laughing as he stepped aside so Mary could get a better view, Mary hung her head trying not to look; "This can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be real!"
"Oh, it's real... as real as I want it to be, mamma…" he told her as he grabbed a handful of hair and forced his lips onto hers in her state of shock for a few minutes she let him until he ran his tongue over her mouth. She shook him off her and gave him the most hateful glare that she could muster.
"Fuck you! You fucking freak!" she cried Otis laughed and pushed her chair back into the corner.
" I like you" he said as he disappeared back in the far back of his room that was covered with a tattered curtain, "You're a fucking little pistol!"