Almost Human

Almost Human: Part 6

Hours had gone by, maybe days. Denver wasn't sure. He woke up lying on his back and tied to a bed. His heavy eyelids opened to a blur amid the incessant buzzing of flies. The Kerosene lamp on a nearby nightstand faintly illuminated the darkened room. He tried to move but couldn't pull against the tightly wound rope on his wrists and ankles. Rope had been tied across his chest and waist as well, pinning him against the mattress. Thick gauze was wrapped around his throbbing head. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was or what had happened. Then he recognized the bare, windowless walls. The smell of rancid meat permeated the air.

There seemed to be no one around, but he wasn't sure. It was the girl's room. He shifted and rocked the squeaky, wooden bed frame in place. Helplessly bound, he felt real fear and desperation for the first time since arriving at Howell's cabin. He had been knocked out and tied up for a reason. He called out for Howell in a groggy voice, his throat dry and scratchy. Approaching footsteps sounded from outside. The door ahead was opened a crack. Denver pulled against the rope again, gasping in panic, but it was no use. He was a prisoner in some sick game.

Howell emerged, wearing a red Bandana and overalls. His face was just as scraggly as ever. His wide, glaring eyes scanned the bed. He entered the room with assured ease and stepped aside as the girl followed, absent chains, head down, and wearing a tattered white dress. Her face was still concealed by long, stringy hair that went down to her shoulders. Howell approached the bedpost with a walking stick.

"What is this?" Denver asked.

Howell placed his hands upon the bed railing in no rush to answer. The girl stood beside him with heavy breathing. Denver had rarely seen such a freakishly strange sight. "Heard you making some noise in here and assumed you were up," Howell said. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit. What's the deal, Vincent? Why am I tied up?"

Howell shook his head with a smile. "You're just full of questions."

"Let me go!" Denver shouted, his voice echoing throughout the room.

Howell held an index finger to his lips to quiet him. "Please. You're scaring my daughter."

Denver froze and stared back in disbelief. "Your daughter? What are you talking about?"

The girl grunted and rushed toward the corner of the room. Denver watched as she knelt and ate from a bowl on the floor. Her frenzied slurping and chewing made his stomach turn. She by no means was a normal girl. Howell had done something to her, reduced her to an animal. Denver wasn't sure how. He pleaded again to be released but was ignored as the girl feasted on slop. Howell watched her with admiration and then returned his focus to Denver. "My other daughter, Emily, was taken from me, as you know. This is her sister, Penna."

"That's fine," Denver said, sweating. "Now, please. Just let me go. I didn't mean to get involved with anything you have going on here."

"But you are involved," Howell said, matter-of-factly.

Denver pulled and thrashed against the rope, rocking the bed in the process, but unable to break free. "Howell, you sick fuck! Untie me now!" The girl stopped eating and rose from the corner. She walked over to the bed, wiping her face. Denver couldn't help but find himself frightened. She breathed through both her mouth and nose, creating an incessant slurping sound.

"Don't upset her," Howell seethed. "I'll warn you one last time."

"Cut the shit!' Denver snapped back. "What you're doing here is illegal. People know I'm here. They'll come looking for me." Even as the words left his mouth, Denver knew them to be baseless. Howell seemed less than convinced with his arched eyebrows and flippant expression.