Almost Human

Almost Human: Part 6

"Russell, you mean? Sure, he knows you're here. Who do you think provides me Penna's playmates?" Howell paused, waiting for a response of which Denver had none. He stretched back and began to pace the room while tapping his walking stick against the hardwood floor. "I'm sorry to say that you've been set up, Denver. I did give you a chance to leave though. Can't blame me for trying." Howell approached the side of the bed and leaned over Denver, examining him. "That's a nasty bump you've got there. I apologize, but you see, my Penna has a certain taste for human flesh. It's rather insatiable."

"Vincent, listen to me," Denver began with his eyes pleading, "You passed out. I went out back to have a leak and then came in the house, looking for you. You don't want me here, fine. I'm gone. You'll never see me again."

Howell took a deep breath and stepped away.

Denver glanced around and saw that much of the walls were marked with crayon swirls. He could also see toys and dolls next to the small bones littering the floor.

"I found her two years ago, abandoned in the woods," Howell said, pacing. "She looked to be in her teens and living off the land like an animal. Couldn't say a word beyond guttural sounds." The girl soon left the other side of the bed as if losing interest. Denver watched in panic as she played with a collection of building blocks on the floor. "She's come a long way," Howell continued. "I only chain her up when she gets unruly. Right now, she's on her best behavior."

"Forget the papers," Denver said out of sheer desperation. "I just want to leave. You can make that happen, Vincent. None of this is necessary."

Howell swung around and hit his stick against the floor. "It's very necessary." He then took another deep breath, calming himself. "You just have to know how to play the rules. Penna won't hurt you. She just wants a friend. I can't be everything to her. I spend most of my time just trying to make sure we have enough to eat by the end of the day. I'm waning her off human flesh. She's getting there, and that's where you come in. If you survive the next couple of days that means Penna has evolved. She's becoming more like us, and not the young, feral beast I found by the creek, most likely abandoned by her parents because of her ways and appearance."

Denver rocked his head back into the soft pillow, barely able to comprehend the situation. He watched the girl, terrified, as she turned her head and stared at him with yellow eyes. She then parted her hair and exposed a largely deformed face, glimmering in the lantern light. Her mouth formed a crooked smile of sharpened teeth, dripping with blood and saliva. She had what looked like a snout for a nose amid her scarred face. She stared at Denver, unblinking, and soon returned to her building blocks like a normal child.

Howell paced closer and leaned against the bed. "I found her repulsive at first sight too, but then I soon realized she was a gift bestowed upon me, another child to raise in a world that rejects such things. She belongs here every bit as much as you or I. All we have to do is to accept her for who she is."

"What is this shit?" Denver asked straight-out. "You're going to feed me to that little monster? That makes you nothing short of a murderer."

Without warning, Howell reached back and swung his walking stick upon Denver's chest, knocking the wind out of him. Denver gasped as Howell got into his face. "She's no monster, you hear me? She's young and pure and innocent. At first, I couldn't figure out how to make her act more civilized. Then, one day I crossed paths with a hunter. He was way off the trail. I invited him in for a drink, just like you, and just like you, he stumbled upon Penna's room. He freaked and tried to harm her, but she was too quick for him. I walked inside the room just as she tore the Trachea from his throat. I watched as she feasted on his corpse, amazed. My little girl was ravenous."

He paused and backed away from the bed as though merely reciting the story exhausted him. "Hence, the chains. They're for her own good and anyone else who gets in her way. Don't worry, she's had a hearty fill of rabbit and elk meat. Seems to be to her liking."

Frantic, Denver twisted his body against the rope with all the power he had left. In the end, it amounted to nothing, but sweat and tears. "Vincent, please. I only wanted a signature."

Howell held up the papers in question with delight. "Funny you should mention that. I've officially signed the deed to American Auto Salvage back to its rightful owner. You did it, my friend, only nothing could matter less at the time." He then tossed the papers aside. "What no one can understand is that Penna is the way she is, just like I'm the way I am, and you and all your hustling bullshit are the way you are. We're all animals in the grand scheme of things." He knelt over with a deep cough, gasping for air. "I am her father. She's my daughter, and nothing will change that. She hasn't feasted for a while on humans, and that could remain the case if you're fortunate enough to make an impression."

Denver felt pulsating anger rush through him. He pulled at the rope again, nearly breaking the bedpost, but exhausted himself after only a few short seconds. "Go fuck yourself, Howell. If that little brat gets within inches of me, I'll tear her throat out myself."

"No..." Howell retorted. "You won't. But what you can do is try to understand her, as I have. She's here for a reason, just as you came here for a reason and the next person after you. In a way, Penna is just engaging in what you could call, natural selection."

Denver lifted his head, furious. "You're a sick, insane piece of work. I sympathized with you about losing your wife and daughter. I came here with the best intentions—"

"And found yourself tied to a bed with no recourse," Howell declared. "You were just looking for an easy payday. Money isn't everything, Mr. Nash. I've given so much away, it's like sand in an hourglass. But everyone wants more and more, and they don't give a shit about you either way. It must be so frustrating to be held prisoner here, knowing that no one really cares what happens to you." He leaned against the wall and smiled maniacally. "To think, no one will ever know."

"How do you know Russ won't try to blackmail you?" Denver asked, reaching a fever-pitch desperation. "I can help you, Vincent, just not like this. Untie me, and let's talk this out. Let's pour some moonshine and get to know each other more. I'm on your side here! I can help you!" Silence followed his frantic plea. The girl in the corner paid him little mind as Howell tapped his walking stick against the floor.

"It's an interesting proposition," Howell said, "but nothing matters more than my little girl's wellbeing. She'll sleep next to you, find solace, and in the end, maybe not kill you. It's all up to you. Make an impression, you might just live to see the results."

"Please!" Denver shouted. "I need water. These ropes are too tight. I can't breathe!"

Howell gradually backed against the door, smacking his gums. "I'll bring you some food and water momentarily. In the meantime, I'll leave you two alone." He turned and walked outside the room without explanation. Denver screamed as the door shut. He turned to look at the girl, but she was no longer on the floor. A pile of  building blocks was all that remained.

"Son of a bitch," Denver said to himself, exasperated and pulling against the rope. Nothing Howell had told him had made any sense. It couldn't have been real. He must have been suffering an elongated bad dream. This time, however, he couldn't wake up. Memories of Alisha flashed before him, all the good times and the bad, as Penna rose from the side of the bed. Drool flowed from her mouth onto the bearskin blanket. Denver tried to look away but couldn't help it. He felt her hot breath against his face.

"Penna?" he said. "That's a lovely name." He yearned for Alisha's touch as the girl climbed into bed next to him, wrapping her arms around him. He shivered with panic, trying to combat the smell of rancid meat she exuded. Her oily skin and matted hair pressed against his arms and chest. Her breathing was heavy like an animal. Her moist tongue skimmed upon the bottom of his chin. "Easy there," Denver said, freezing up. "Easy."

He closed his eyes in disgust as she reared her head upward and whispered into his ear with a low growl. "Are you my new friend?" Her head rested against his chest, heart beating rapidly, as he prayed for forgiveness for all he had done.  

THE END