"Darling"

"When I entered the Vocational Block, I somehow knew that I've heard his name before, although I didn't remember where exactly. I heard a man called Dennis shouting something like 'a gift for the groom'. Still, I kinda think I know the name Gluskin …" Waylon Park scribbled on one of Dennis' files during the only two safe minutes he could spare until he heard Gluskin yelling: "DARLING! Don't leave me! I can't be alone!"

Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to go for the elevator shaft and even less so, to trust this old, rusty ladder and therefore having to get that sharp splinter out of his leg. Holy crap, that fucking hurt. Whatever, this misogynist murderer was just one of many other crazy Variants Waylon had to escape from. … Right?

"You all want to leave me? Is that it? You want to leave me? Fine! Go! You and the rest of these ungrateful sluts!" Gluskin yelled and Waylon's heart leaped when he saw his shoes, walking around the bed he had hidden under. Then, when he thought the coast was clear, he crawled out of the bed and sneaked to the exit, trying to unlock the door when he suddenly got pulled away. Waylon's breath rattled in the back of his throat as he turned around, looking directly into the steel blue eyes of Eddie Gluskin. Shit, that man looked nasty.

"One more. I try and I try," he growled as he clenched his fist, "and you all betray me." He punched Waylon in the face and he heard something crack. Waylon tried to free himself out of Gluskin's grasp but he failed and Gluskin struck again. Feeling his lips bleed and his head throb, he tried to crawl away from the tall man, but after his last attempt failed as well, Waylon recognized that this battle was over. Neither giving up nor trying to fight back was an acceptable option since all of it resulted in Waylon's upcoming death.

After one last kick against Waylon's stomach, tall hands were dragging the blond all over the bloodstained, cold floor. Although Waylon desperately tried to move, to get up and run away, he couldn't do any of this for he was too weakened, too injured to defend himself. His leg felt like it was about to fall off, he could barely walk. What had he done? Why hadn't he listened to Dennis, telling him that he had delivered himself directly to "Gluskin's hell"? Why hadn't he listened more carefully when Blaire had been talking with other big fishes of Murkoff Cooperation? It was his ignorance that should mark his destiny.

Waylon finally managed to open his eyes, seeing Gluskin wrapping a rope round him. God, his head hurt like hell. He heard him breathing heavily, gnashing his teeth. Waylon knew where they were, he knew the giant room and the human corpses hanging from the ceiling. He had seen the gym before when he had tried to escape the groom. How little he had known back then – Waylon thought in a mixture of irony and bitter resignation, looking up to the hanging graveyard – not knowing he was soon to be one of them. He tried to scream, but no words left his hoarse throat and a harsh shiver went down Waylon's spine as he saw the groom directly in front of him.

"You don't deserve my children," Gluskin snarled, "you don't even deserve to live. You can hang like the rest of them." Suddenly, Waylon's body got put upright by Gluskin pulling the rope. The threads cut in the flesh of the man hanging from the ceiling, bursting into tears as he thought about his miserable life decisions.

Lisa, I hope I've been a good husband to you. I know it hasn't been a long time – 11 months –, but I think about you all the time. I'm here supporting men who create monsters. It's my fault, I guess. This is what you get for snooping. I'm afraid I'll die here, Lisa. The groom's fallen in love with me, and that is my certain death.

"Heavier than you look. If this is you on the honeymoon, I'd hate to imagine our anniversary."

Oh, please, shut up. Waylon rolled his eyes, starting to get annoyed by all of Gluskin's insults – this is just wasting my last minutes.

Waylon saw Gluskin fasten the ropes as he ran his fingers through his hair, fixing his haircut. What did he put into his hair to make sure it was in place? Actually, Waylon didn't want to know. In fact, only now did he realize how much effort Gluskin put into his look, how well his handmade suit fit. He looked up, frowning while glancing frustratedly at Waylon. It was over. Waylon knew it. He had been right when he had seen that neither giving up nor fighting back was an option. He should start to prepare for his death by suffocating.

But … something seemed odd. Why didn't Gluskin leave? Did he want to see him die or did he need to watch out? Did he really think Waylon would manage to get off the goddamn ceiling without hurting himself and without Gluskin noticing? There had to be something else.

"Darling, we could've been beautiful. Why don't you understand? You were the one and still, you made me do these thing to you. I just wanted to love you."

Suddenly, a brief thought flashed through Waylon's mind. Waylon looked into Gluskin's eyes, realizing that they were eager to receive an answer to his unspoken question. Because it was a subtle, unanswered question, the offer on letting him live … the only way out.

Lisa, you remember the time we were in school? I joined the drama group, right? Well, it's been some years but I think I will need these skills one more time. All of this I'm doing for you, and if the day has come where you're watching this video, please don't believe anything I say. Because if I manage to play along the game … this man is my only hope.

Waylon swallowed. "Please … hold on! I, uh, I'm sorry!" Gluskin, who was just about to go and leave Waylon to his own devices, stopped and turned around. He scrutinized him for a few seconds, unsure if Waylon was telling the truth, then his lips formed a broad grin.

"I know you'd sober up, darling. You're different, I knew it from the start," Gluskin said while carefully approaching Waylon, "and may I add that you've got a voice like an angel?" He giggled. "Now that you've finally decided to talk to me." Waylon was about to puke. This man was not only insane, he was apparently fucking savage, too.

"I don't know what's gotten into me being too afraid to trust you. Please, get me down and then we can perhaps … start over again?"

Gluskin didn't hesitate for long. "Of course, my dear." He untied the rope, letting Waylon carefully reach the ground. All of sudden, he was standing so close to the guy who tried to stab him, castrate him, suffocate him and let him be squashed by the elevator. It felt so wrong, enduring Gluskin's fingers brushing Waylon's arm. Such tender movements, nothing compared to how Gluskin had treated him for the last 13 hours.

"Let's go home, Darling." Gluskin went on ahead, leaving Waylon waddling after him. Being in a complete rush of adrenaline, Waylon hadn't felt the pain of his leg at all. But now that he was a bit safer than 5 minutes before, it was even more painful than before. What if they had to amputate it if Waylon's escape succeeded? Again, he felt like crying. Whatever – the only important thing right now was staying alive, and if Waylon would manage to go along with Gluskin's illusion, he could play for time. So far, that was his masterplan.

He quietly walked behind Gluskin, trying not to make a sound and not being able to see where he was going since Gluskin had confiscated his camcorder. He could hear him breath slowly; he didn't seem to be flustered at all.

"Here we are," Waylon took a deep breath as Gluskin proudly opened the door to the sewing room, "welcome to your new home, darling."

Despite all of his persuasion and words of endearment, Eddie at first hadn't coped with this girl (although he wasn't even sure if "girl" was the right term since she looked like a real woman every man could dream of and yet, she still owned the soft skin of a young lady). He had tried everything to get her. He had seen her aimlessly wandering around his house, with this thing in her hand in order to see in the dark (clever girl, by the way!), so he had thought a few words of consolations would have calmed her. But since "You don't have to be alone anymore." and "Let me fill you up." hadn't worked at all, he had needed to use more than words, and had decided to follow her.

The poor thing had gotten chased by the other Variants all the way through the asylum. Thinking about this made him furious. It must've been fate that he now can proudly call her his girl – after she had fled from Dennis, she had probably sensed Eddie waiting for her downstairs. As she had been walking down the stairs – she looked like an angel floating down –, Eddie had known that this time would be different. There was something about her that touched him in a certain way, although he wasn't completely able to determine that feeling. She was so beautiful, her sweet smile made him melt, and though she initially had behaved ungratefully like the other whores, she stood out of them pretty fast. A good woman was subordinated to her man and apologized for her mistakes, as she did. She'd be a perfect mother once she was corrected.

Right now, however, his darling hadn't said a word, even though Eddie had put some food on the table he had found in the kitchen: some water, apples and chocolate. He told her to drink something and eat an apple, and she obeyed.

"Good girl. You won't get over the ceremony with an empty stomach." She looked weakened and tired. She needed to rest her eyes a little, maybe she needed a day to recover. Even though Eddie was eager to fix her, he was, of course, patient.

Eddie wanted to get to know her, they had so many things to talk about, and there was so much Eddie didn't know about her. His darling's muteness made him angry. "Speak to me, will you! Don't you want to know me better?" he spat. The girl winced and Eddie felt sorry for frightening her.

"I beg your pardon, darling, maybe I'm just a little bit … nervous. It's, uhm, it's been a while since I've talked to a woman like you." She looked uncomfortable and Eddie started to get desperate. All of the others, the other whores, they always screamed at him and were so loud, and yet she didn't make a sound.

Suddenly, she glanced up and said, "Thank you for the food."

Eddie smiled, "You're welcome, darling. All I want is the best for you." Her voice, her hair, her green eyes, everything about her was perfect. Well, almost everything. Their children; god, they were going to be so beautiful.

"I'm Waylon," she said timidly, "and you're Eddie, right?" Eddie blushed as he realized he hadn't introduced himself to her and even worse: asked for her name. What a blunder! He nodded. Then they remained silent as Waylon - what a masculine name! – was eating his apple, looking on the bloodstained table, unsettling Eddie.

"You smell nice, darling. Which perfume are you wearing today?" Since Eddie was a gentleman, he knew what women liked to hear.

"Uhm," his darling said, fidgeting with her hands, "I don't know. Deodorant, I guess?" Eddie stared at her, astonished, not knowing what to say, when suddenly his lips formed a toothy grin, and he started to burst into laughter. And she was funny, too!

"You're so cute, darling," he said to his girl, looking confused. He stood up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to her home, when she groaned. He turned around, seeing her holding her injured leg.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," he said, holding back his anger. "But this is what happens if you try to leave me," he laughed as he lifted her up smiling, "I'll carry you." She blushed as Eddie was walking down the corridor, carrying her like she was already his wife.

"I know, darling. You're a bit nervous because I'm holding you like that, but remember: We're not far off being man and wife. Let me fill the emptiness inside you. I can make you feel like a real woman." He knew how to read women and what to say to make them feel protected and safe … and other things.

"Darling, let me fill you up," he purred in her ear. Waylon swallowed, trying to avoid his gaze. Eddie chuckled; she was so innocent, so pure. Talking about loving each other made her blush. Not like the others who hadn't any self respect at all.

"Father Martin must've send me this angel," he said, opening the door of the sewing room with his elbow, "speaking of him … I think you already know him, don't you? I'll search for him after I got your medicine, and he will make us man and wife. How does that sound?"

"That, uh, that sounds really great," Waylon said quietly. – "Of course it does, darling," Eddie smiled. It felt so great, holding his love in his arms, such a delicate creature. Finally and still unbelievably, knowing he had needed to wait 46 years for this very moment. Soon, everything would be like he had always imagined. His lifelong dream, the wish of his parents. He was about to be married to a beautiful woman.

Shortly afterwards, they were standing in the dark, again. But that was okay, Eddie liked it that way, it made everything so much easier, besides sewing. Soon, his eyes adapted the darkness, but since he knew that Waylon initially needed to get used to it, he turned on a little lamp near Waylon's bed. He put her down and removed the imitation of the birth he had taken great pains to create. But he didn't need it any longer since he now had met the perfect woman, the one whom he could do this with. The blood of the head had seeped into the mattress and Eddie was sorry for that, but he knew Waylon was a tough girl.

"I've been a little … vulgar, I know," Eddie said, sensing the pounding of his heart, "and I want to say, I'm sorry. I just … you know how a man gets when he wants to know a woman. But after the ceremony, when I've made an honest woman of you, I promise I'll be a different man." Waylon nodded timidly. Eddie knew she would understand. Such a precious thing.

He pointed at the bed the other whore had been laying on, and after he had covered the blood with a blanket he had found, he said, "Lay down and get some rest, darling. I know it's not pure extravagance, but it will do. At this very moment, love's the only thing we need, and I'm sure you can manage to make it as cosy as possible. Because a woman's work is …" – "Never done," Waylon said, unimpressed, "I know, I've read it on your wall." Eddie laughed; that was his girl, not that easy to fool.

"Now I'm going to get some medicine. It won't be long, so you can take some anesthetic after I've came back and perhaps you'll be able to snatch a couple of hours' sleep before we get married, alright darling?"

"Uh, we're about to marry today …?" she asked surprisedly. – "Of course, darling. Is that a problem? I know you're as eager as I am to consummate our love." Waylon averted his gaze. "Yeah," she muttered, "I am."

Eddie stepped aside, watching her laying down. Her skin looked like porcelain and her hair looked like melted gold next to the dim lamp. What a shame they had cut it off, but his darling always looked good. His gaze wandered over her body, lasciviously laying on the bed, and Eddie had to restrain himself not to jump on the bed and rip her clothes off. But they weren't done. There were still a lot of things left to do, and at the end of the day, Waylon wasn't a real woman. Not yet, but Eddie had a good feeling about it. She was strong and robust yet a petite, delicate woman. She could run and seemed like Eddie's equal and he didn't know how to feel about this yet. Right at this moment, the only thing he could do was stroking her thigh as he was passing by; she shivered and he held back a smile.

Oh, how he loved the thought of touching her. They'd be a perfect couple with a perfect family and perfect children. Eddie had been here for many years and it was today that a woman had touched his heart.