Little Shop of Horrors
It had been an accident. Sort of.
She had gone to Helena's office with ill intent and a Saturday night special in her purse. Felicity had justified it to herself of course with the fact that Helena Bertinelli was not a nice person and that no one, except perhaps the masochist who'd kept begging for more pain over the sound of the dental drill, would truly miss her.
An abuser, a user – heartless and cold all but sang through her mind as she shifted uncomfortably in the waiting room chair. The harsh, brittle characteristics of Helena's personality were evident in the extreme black and white décor of her dental office space which did little to make patients feel welcomed or comfortable. During her arduous wait the other patient had fled with her child as screams rang out.
When Helena had physically kicked the patient begging for more pain out into the waiting room she had flinched, her hand gripping her seat and even though she'd been the only one left waiting, Felicity had silently prayed that she wouldn't be called in next. Not because planned to go into the office and kill Helena, but because she realized that she could not follow through on her ludicrous plan – not to save herself, not even to save Oliver. And she certainly had not wanted to sit through the agony of an unnecessary appointment with Helena Bertinelli, D.M.D. The woman's enjoyment of inflicting needless pain on others was something she did not want to experience firsthand.
But she'd been so tired. Drained, literally, from days of feeding Oliver II – the astounding, never-before -seen plant that was saving Mr. Merlyn's florist shop, keeping her and Oliver employed and him in her life – her own blood because that was the only thing that kept it healthy. Finding its carnivorous tendencies had truly been a coincidence. She'd pricked herself on a thorn and the odd little plant had puckered its lip like petals at her. How it had sensed the presence of blood was a mystery, but since everything else she had tried: sunshine, diverse dirt mixtures, plant food, different ph. levels of water, mineral supplements had not worked, she had been desperate enough to give the drooping plant her own blood.
Merlyn's Skid Row Florists had been flailing until Felicity had found Oliver II after a solar eclipse a few weeks back while shopping at a pop-up market. Displaying the new variety of plant had brought them notoriety and much needed business, meaning that she not only got to keep her job, but her home in the basement of the building. To maintain her status quo she needed Oliver II healthy and attracting customers, so she kept feeding it from her own vein and the plant started to grow exponentially, strong and uniquely beautiful.
It was undoubtedly the blood loss, but Felicity actually thought that Oliver II had begun talking to her. Pleading with her to feed him more, but her tap had been dry, so to speak. It was then that she'd seen Helena berating and hitting Oliver – sweet, wonderful Oliver who deserved so much more than to be taken advantage of by such a cruel individual – she had never understood why he accepted Helena's mistreatment, but there was finally something she could do about it.
Or so Oliver II seemed to imply.
She'd planned on killing Helena, freeing Oliver from her misery and ensuring their livelihoods but Felicity found herself incapable of crossing that line and trapped in Helena's dental chair while the brunette sucked in copious amounts of nitrous oxide. Too much gas. She had tried to stop its outpouring but she'd been too late to save the dominating dentist. Helena poisoned herself and it had seemed somehow fitting that she had died laughing maliciously, intent on doing harm to another and only managing to hurt herself.
Felicity had felt sick feeding the other woman to Oliver II, had nearly gagged too many times that she lost count as the plant slurped her down. "Plant food," she had whispered under her breath desperate to believe that the cooling flesh was merely just that and not a human being who'd been alive only hours before. She had certainly promised herself that it was a one-time thing.
Never again, she'd vowed to herself as she threw out the remnants of Helena's clothing. Not even if Mr. Merlyn yelled at her about Oliver II wilting. Not if she stood to lose her job and her home. Not even if meant losing Oliver from her life.
But Mr. Merlyn had seen and the man who had been the only father-like figure in her life, who had taken her in and given her the little basement room and job, was now threatening her. Telling her that if she didn't handover Oliver II and disappear that he'd turn her into the police. It was her greatest nightmare come to life … losing everything.
Behind them, Oliver II's leaves curled and stretched some as if he was trying to reach out and pull Mr. Merlyn towards him.
If she could just maneuver him back a little bit her problem would be solved. Swallowed up by her murderous plant … it was that thought that chilled her, stopping Felicity in her tracks. Just the night before she promised never, for no reason ever, to allow Oliver II to consume another human being.
As awful as Mr. Merlyn turn out to be he wasn't conveniently deceased, he was very much alive and if she put him in Oliver II's path he would be dead. Because of her. And she wouldn't put it past the man to keep feeding the plant to ensure his business stayed open.
She couldn't allow that to happen. Felicity wasn't certain if he'd be open to reason. He never had been when she tried to talk to him about a raise, but on the dangers of Oliver II she would be firm.
Her decision and wherewithal came too late. Felicity wasn't certain if Mr. Merlyn had stepped back or if Oliver II had managed to grow or strain just enough to clasp hold of him, but suddenly he was being yanked back into the plant's sharply lined mouth. Leaving her to hear the crunch of bones and Mr. Merlyn's surprisingly high shrieks as Oliver II ate him up.