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"It's been getting harder and harder to earn an honest dollar," Tom says as he sits down at a long oak dining table, "I'm beginning to wonder if I'll be able to resist Jako's offer. You know how persuasive he can be." "I know. You just do what you have to," Sarah replies, serving herself a spoonful of peas from a large dish. "John, please stop poking your sister." A small, brown-haired boy wrinkles his nose as he complies, but begins banging his fork and knife on the table. "Food! Food! I want REAL food, not no more peas!" John says, luring his sister Rebecca into the chant for food. "Food! Food! I want REAL food!" she says, shaking her pale blonde hair as she bangs on the table. "You two settle down. God, I'm just glad that George finally found himself a job," Tom says, shoveling peas into his mouth, "Maybe he'll be able to chip in on groceries next week." Sarah nods, eating silently. The two children giggle, poking each other again. "I said SETTLE DOWN, damnit!" Tom yells, banging a fist onto the tabletop. Sarah and the children look at Tom a bit surprised. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs heavily. "I'm sorry, I've just been been under a lot of stress lately..." Tom says, trailing off as he begins eating again. The room falls silent as the family finishes their meal. John and Rebecca are taken out of the room by Sarah. As Tom sits alone in the room, he rubs the bridge of his nose with a thumb and his index finger. He groans quietly. "Fuck. I hope I don't get fired." "...It has become apparent to us that you are no longer needed, Mr. Olson." say Tom's supervisor Eric, who sits behind a mahogany desk, hands clasped on his stomach. His slicked black hair and Gucci suit give him an aristocratic air. Tom is seated in front of the desk, rubbing his thumbs together vigorously. He removes his glasses, and replaces them after wiping his eyes. "You're sure that's what it comes down to? I'm no longer a valuable employee to the company?" Tom asks, his voice cracking slightly. The man grins, and as he leans back in the chair his second chin comes out of hiding. A look of deep thought spreads over his countenance -- his eyes wander the room for a moment as if debating an idea. He turns back to Tom. "No, I'm sorry Thomas. Your spotty record has started to give us a bad name. Already word of the noodle incident has reached the media," the man says, looking grave. Tom nods silently, gaze focused on the floor. Without diverting his attention, he stands up and walks to the door, head hung low. "I have to tell Sarah about getting fired," Tom mumbles as he ambles up the porch of his small whitewashed house. Reaching one hand out to open the door, he rubs the back of his neck with the other. The house is quiet. Tom looks around warily. A cellphone rings in Tom's pocket.. "Hello," Tom says as he picks up the phone. "Ahh, Jako, I'm glad you called. I might have to think about taking up your offer." He nods, listening to the tiny receiver with an anxious look on his face. Outside, a car door can be heard slamming in the driveway. Tom looks out the window, spotting his wife and daughter returning from school. "I'll make sure they're frozen in an ice chest. Just make sure you have my money. This is going to be dirty business," Tom says absently, nodding his head and adding, "Yeah, see you later Jako." As Sarah opens the door, he clasps the cellphone shut quickly. She smiles at Tom and kisses him on the cheek. "How was work today?" she asks, furrowing her brow as she sees how anxious Tom is. "It was fine honey, don't worry." he says, looking down at Rebecca. She smiles, revealing a new missing tooth. "Hey, Daddy, one of my teef fell out today!" Rebecca says, holding out a small white baby tooth in her hand. Tom smiles, lifting Rebecca up under her arms. "Well, we're just going to have to put that under your pillow tonight, so the Tooth Fairy can leave you some money," he says, giving Rebecca an "airplane" ride in circles. She giggles hysterically until he sets her down. Tom nods to Sarah, looking a bit more stern. "I've got some business to take care of tonight. I won't be back until late," he says, adding, "Make sure that there is another plate of food ready for a guest." With that, Sarah nods and sends Rebecca up the stairs to her room. Tom dons his jacket and hat and heads back out the front door. As the sun begins to set and the area is cloaked in darkness, a pair of men walk down the street, passing under a lightpost. It becomes apparent it is Tom and what looks like a homeless young man. Shaggy, blonde hair and an unkempt goatee adorn his face, while the rest of him is covered with patchwork clothing and rags. Tom raises an arm, gesturing to his house. "Casa de Olson, eh?" Tom laughs, leading the way to the house. Reaching deep into his pockets, Tom gropes for his keys and then opens the door. The man nods, stepping through the doorway with a smile. "We're home!" Tom shouts in a low voice, closing the door behind him, and saying to the man, "Go ahead and take your coat off, Chris." Chris proceeds to take off his coat while Tom makes his way into the dining room. Sarah is seated at the table with the children, playing cards. The dishware is neatly stacked in the middle of the table, ready to be set. Covered pots and bowls sit in the middle as well, some of them steaming. Sarah plays a card, glancing over at Tom as Chris walks into the room. "Go wash your hands. You've heard about that new Grey Death virus that's been going around, right?" Sarah asks, looking back to her cards as it becomes her turn. Tom takes the guest into the kitchen as John plays his last card with a triumphant grin. "I win! Yoooouuuu loooosssseeee!" John says, pointing to his sister and mother. Sarah smiles, laying her cards down. Rebecca tosses her cards into the pile, pouting. Chris returns from the kitchen, followed shortly by Tom. "Go ahead and grab a chair, Chris. Meet the family." Tom says, gesturing to his family as he sits down. Chris looks over the faces seated at the table, nodding warmly to Sarah as he plops down on the chair. Rebecca, sitting next to Chris suddenly scowls, her nostrils flaring. "We usually start dinner with a prayer. Are you religious, Chris?" Tom mumbles, fumbling with his reading glasses. "Not at all," Chris responds, adding, "Go ahead, it doesn't bother me." Tom looks to Sarah briefly, then begins to pray. "Our father, who art in heaven..." Tom utters in a monotone. The family prays along with him. Chris inhales deeply, eyeing the food quietly until the family finishes their prayer. "Amen! Let's eat!" Sarah exclaims, reaching out for a bowl of mixed vegetables. She begins serving herself as the others reach for the steaming food on the table. "Excellent fried chicken, Sarah. These spices make it taste great." Chris says, biting into a drumstick. Tom mumbles softly, cutting his chicken breast into smaller pieces. The room is filled with the scent of good food and echoes of conversation. "I've been meaning to tell you something, Sarah," Tom says after he swallows a mouthful of chicken, "I was laid off from work. But I have a plan to make money until I have another job. So don't worry yourself, alright?" "I don't know what to say Tom. I thought you liked working with Devin making sauces, "Sarah says, glancing from Tom to Chris, "Oh no. It wasn't because of the noodle incident, was it?" "Ya know, I was really tired of working for that pasta sauce company anyway. It felt like such a dead end job." Tom says, eating a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Sarah still looks slightly tense as she thinks over what Tom has just said. "So, Tom, is your guest room open tonight?" Chris asks, looking to Sarah briefly and then back to Tom. "Yes," Tom says, rubbing his forehead, "Yes, you can sleep in the first door on the left of the entrance hall. The one we passed on the way in." "Alright. Well, I always get tired when I eat good food... so if you don't mind I'm going to get some sleep." Chris says, standing up and pushing his chair back under the table. He then takes his plate and walks into the kitchen. Tom watches him silently. "I'll make sure we have some money for food, Sarah," Tom says, "Whatever it takes." Sarah nods, looking at Tom in a perplexed manner. Sarah is laying on a bed in a small, cozy room in her nightgown. A window is open, letting a cool breeze into the house. The door opens, and Tom walks into the room. He is still fully dressed, looking unfocused and slightly confused. He rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "Is something wrong, Tom?" Sarah asks, sitting up slowly. She looks at him for a moment, concern written over her face. "I'm fine," Tom says, holding up a hand, "Please, tonight, do not leave the bedroom." Sarah's face turns into a mask of confusion as she listens to Tom. "I'm scared, Tom. What's going on?" Sarah asks, looking out the doorway behind Tom. "Don't worry. Just stay in this room until I'm back." Tom says, running a hand through his hair. He turns and shuts the door. A pale light shines down the hallway from the front door -- the moon ever present and watchful. The stairs creak as Tom walks down them, ever so slowly. He looks sick. As he reaches the floor, he walks to the guest bedroom and presses his ear against it. He turns the knob, pulling the door upward and opening the door without any noise. Chris sleeps in a single bed, covered by two blankets of green and blue. Tom pivots and shuts the door silently. Turning around, Tom reaches into a shirt pocket, withdrawing a cigarette and lighter. He sparks the lighter, inhaling deeply on the rolled smoke. After pocketing the lighter he exhales a cool light grey smoke which fills the room. Tom walks to a chest next to the bed and kneels down in front of it. He reaches into the same shirt pocket and procures a key. Unlocking the chest, he opens it and reveals a long katana. As he removes it from the chest, the moonlight from the window catches on the metal and beams light onto the wall. Tom rises, looking out the window and then to Chris with a sigh. "Looks like the spider has caught himself a fly..." Tom chuckles, raising the katana to strike. He holds the blade above his head momentarily, watching Chris sleep silently. Then, he quickly brings the blade down. The sound of air being separated fills the room as the sharpened blade slices through the drifter's neck like a hot knife through butter. Blood begins to seep out of a gaping wound -- tendons and veins wriggling like unearthed worms. Tom begins sawing through the last bit of bone and flesh, glaring at the large red stain on the bed sheets. "...Time to cut you like the dog you are." Tom says, flashing a sadistic smile in the moonlight. Reaching for the head, he grabs it by the hair and lifts it above the body. Already entangled with rigor mortis, the head's lip quivers slightly. Tom drops the head with a disgusted, rightened expression, then looks away. The body too, quivers and jerks with the discovery of its newfound orifice. Tom wipes his hand on his shirt, reaching to the belt. He withdraws a large, serrated skinning knife. "Now comes the sick part." Tom says as he stabs the knife into the body's lower regions. Tom enters a room, carrying an icechest. The room is very clean, and furnished with a few couches, chairs and a large desk near an open window. Behind the desk sits a man in a white jacket, looking over some papers. He looks up and nods to Tom with a smile. "Ah, hello Tom. I see that you have decided to take up my offer on organics?" the man asks, eyeing the icechest. "As a matter of fact Jako, I did. I was terminated from my job," Tom replies, continuing, "If synthetic organs grew faster, I wouldn't be able to make any money." He proceeds to sit down in a chair next to the desk. "Alright, let's just go down a checklist here. Tell me what you have harvested and how many of each." Jako says, grabbing a pen and clipboard. "Well, I was only able to convince one person to come into my home since your offer... some drifter named Chris. I was able to obtain two eyes, two lungs, his heart, liver, and both kidneys." Tom says, glancing to the icechest. "You weren't able to scalp the body?" Jako asks, looking at Tom curiously. "I didn't think to." Tom says, looking a bit disgusted. Jako nods, chewing on the end of a pencil as he looks over his notes. "I think, if they all come back clean than you might have yourself somewhere around $800." Jako says. Tom nods. "Alright, well I'll leave them with you. I expect that you'll be able to pay me by next Friday?" Tom asks, standing up. "Yes, and I'm glad we could do business, Tom. Keep us in mind if you happen across anymore organs. We run the best surgery pavilion in this area. No one will give you more for your organs." Jako says, reaching out to shake Tom's hand. The part, nodding to each other as Tom heads out the door. Inside the Olson family dining room, Sarah and the children are sitting at the table playing cards. Music plays in the background from a radio. Food sits, ready and waiting on the table along with drinks. Rebecca throws down two cards, smiling. "Yooooouuuuu loooooooosssssssseeeeeeee!" she cries, pointing at a disappointed John. Tom walks in the door, looking happy. He rubs John's head as he sits down at the table. "Dinner smells delicious, Sarah, let's dig in. I'm too hungry to pray." Tom says, reaching for a bowl to serve himself. The children, having already served themself start eating immediately. Sarah looks at the food quizzically, then to Tom. "You look much better, Tom. What was bothering you the other night?" she asks, eating a mouthful of peas. Tom shrugs, shoveling food into his mouth. As the music fades into he background, Tom looks down the table at his children eating. He blinks, looking taken aback. His children are eating raw, red lungs with both hands, and Sarah rips at a heart with her fork. Blood squirts from the organs and dribbles down their chins. He stammers, scooting back in his chair as he looks at his family with disgust. "Are you alright, Tom?" Sarah asks, setting the heart down. She wipes her mouth off, but only succeeds in smearing more blood on. He turns away, muttering softly to himself. The children put down their lungs, mouth and hands stained with blood. "Come play with us, daddy!" they say in unison. Tom stares at their teeth, completely red with a syrupy goo. He throws his hands up, covering his face. Tom falls to his knees, crying out in agony. "Oh my God... what have I done!?" he yells, tears streaming down his face. |