Diaval wasn't sure why he'd chosen this particular retirement home to work at. All he knew was that they paid the best, and as he was just there for the summer, the more money he could make, the better.
And besides, there was that cute girl at the front desk who kept eying the raven tattoo that peeked out from underneath his uniform and onto the side of his neck.
On his first day, the Charge Nurse took him around the entire facility at a pace that would've been better suited to a Nascar track than a nursing home.
"Here's the kitchen, you'll pick up the food here," she droned. "Over there's hallway B, so all the room numbers begin with a B, similar to how all the room numbers in hallway A begin with A. Got that?" Diaval nodded, even though the Charge Nurse didn't even bother looking back. She stopped in front of B13. "This is Maleficent's room, she'll be your patient. Any questions?"
Diaval shook his head dumbly as the woman hobbled off down the hallway. As he reached for the door handle, soft laughter drifted out of the room. The voice was strong for an elderly patient, and he imagined her laugh must echo in her chest. Taking a deep breath, Diaval nudged the door open.
"Miss Maleficent?" He whispered to the only occupant of the room - an ancient - looking woman, dressed in black. Diaval noticed a pair of horns hanging on the wall, making up some kind of headdress. "Ma'am? My name's Diaval, I'm going to be-"
"Oh good, you're finally here," she crooned. "Come here, boy. I could use a pair of strong arms." She still hadn't turned around to face him. Diaval glanced sullenly at his bony arms before taking a few steps closer.
"What exactly are you working on?" From where he stood, it looked as though she were tinkering with an electric wheelchair.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with. Just hand me that wrench." She pointed with a long, thin, pale finger over to her table, which was littered with various tools. From his new vantage point, Diaval could see cheekbones sharp enough to cut anyone who dared try and slap her. Not that anyone would ever dare do that.
And it was a wheelchair. One that looked like that ones they gave the patients who had too much trouble walking around.
"What are you-" Diaval began again, but Maleficent cut him off.
"Shhh, don't speak, that's not why I requested you. Here." She pushed the chair towards him, and Diaval finally managed a glance at her face. It was white and elongated, and somehow, the bright red lipstick she was wearing suited her, and made her look younger. Graying hair tumbled down her shoulders gracefully.
"Bring this over to the ladies over in the next room. I think they'll be quite excited with what you've found."
Diaval raised an eyebrow. "But I didn't find it. You had it." At that, Maleficent smiled, and Diaval found himself explaining to the strange ladies in brightly-colored dresses that he'd found their missing chair over by the stairs.
"Oh, Flittle, you useless handbag, why did you ever leave your chair by the stairs?" The lady in pink exclaimed. The lady in blue - Flittle - simply grabbed her chair and plonked herself down.
"I told you, I didn't. Maybe one of my butterflies took it out for a-" As she spoke, her fingers pressed onto the top arrow, the one that should've made the chair move forward. Instead, the chair shot backwards, knocking into the table.
"Oh come on, Flittle, get out of the chair," the lady in pink huffed. "Let me show you how it's done in the hallway."
She pulled the chair by its handles out through the door as Flittle insisted she knew how to drive her own wheelchair.
"Obviously not. Now, look here, when I press this arrow, I'll go for-" But the rest of her sentence was lost as the pink patient shot backwards the same way Flittle had done, rolling down through the hallway, being chased by her two sisters. Diaval managed to stifle his chuckles, but through the commotion, he could've sworn he heard Maleficent's throaty cackle echoing through the hall.