Little shop of horrors

Little shop of homos pt 11

Little Shop of Homos
Kewl_Kid

Chapter 11: Chapter 11 - Conscience

Summary:

Orin arrives and things escalate

A/N: Sorry this took so long to come out, been busy with exams. I hope it was worth the wait!
Chapter Text
"Wow Krelborn," a voice rang out from the other side of the line. "I didn't expect you to call so soon."

Seymour stared down at Ronette's body, unable to speak. What was he supposed to say? Why did he even call him?

"Krelborn? Is this you? "

Seymour couldn't answer. His mouth felt so dry, his throat was closing up.

"Who the hell is this? How did you get my number?! " Orin shouted, making Seymour yelp in response. "... Is this you, Krelborn? "

"I..." Seymour said shakily. "Yeah."

"Okay... So, why're ya callin' pal? "

Seymour took in a deep breath to steady himself. "Well, you said. Um, if anything ever happened, with the girls. Well, you said to call. But, you didn't mean it like this, but who else was I supposed to call? The police? No, the police wouldn't be any help--"

"Krelborn, slow down. What happened? "

"I-I..." his voice fell to a whisper. "I killed her."

There was a beat of silence from the other end of the line. "Is anyone else there? "

"N-No. Just me. And the plant..." He looked down. "And the body."

"Hang tight, I'll be there in a minute."

Orin hung up the phone, but Seymour didn't let it go. He clutched it to his ear, grasping onto the phone as if it was the last remnants of his sanity.

This isn't real. This isn't real.  He pleaded to himself.

"Was that your little boyfriend?" Audrey II teased.

"He's not my--!" As he glanced back down at Ronette, his anger dissipated, shifting into a gut wrenching guilt. "Fuck..."

"Is he going to feed--?"

"Shut up! I..." Seymour put down the phone, walking over to the sink. "I can't do this. I can't..."

He turned the tap, watching the water pour endlessly into the metal basin. He stared, allowing this stream to occupy his thoughts.

He felt dirty. Unclean. And while he hadn't touched her, there was blood on his hands. If he washed them, was he admitting to that guilt? Was that a confession of his contribution in her demise? He listened to the endless pitter patter of the droplets, taking comfort in the sound.

He didn't kill her. Not directly. But, if Seymour had never argued with her, never held that tie, never met Orin... It seemed like all his decisions were leading up to this moment. Every action bringing them one step closer to her death.

He did kill her. Not directly. But it was avoidable. It was his fault.

No.

Seymour stopped the stream, stepping away from the sink. He felt nauseous, lightheaded. No, he couldn't be thinking about this right now. All he had to do was wait for Orin to arrive.

Yes. Yes, he could do that. He just had to wait.

But for how long? How long does it take for a body to rot? Does blood stain wood? What if she's not dead? Seymour never checked her pulse...

What if she was alive?!

Seymour walked cautiously over to her possibly breathing body, bending down, hand hovering hopefully. If she was alive... Well, then that would be a miracle!