Chapter 7 – Lost in Thought

"House of 1000 Corpses" isn't a proper name for the movie. If Rob Zombie had gone to the past and met the Fireflys, like I did, he would have thought of something more fitting. Like "House of 1000 Feelings", for instance. Okay, maybe that wouldn't sell DVDs. But that house produced much more strong and contradictory feelings than corpses.

Like on my case. In that house, there wasn't a single idle moment, when I simply lived and breathed. No relaxing, letting it be. No, there were always strong emotions boiling; high levels of adrenaline constantly and dizzyingly pumping in my veins.

And I had just being there for half a day. The fun was just beginning.

When I got away from Otis' embrace and panicky ran out of his room, my adrenaline was high, all right. Skyrocketing would be a better term. I clumsily stumbled from one room to another, trying to find my way around the house. It seemed like Hurricane Hugo – no, not grandfather, I mean the natural disaster! – had stormed in and out that place; it was such a mess. But I didn't look much around; I wasn't in the mood for finding any corpses casually laying around, or Lord knows which inventive gross things could be there. So I kept looking for the exit, as fast as I could. In fact, I was in such a rush, I managed to crash into Tiny, who appeared out of nowhere.

After letting out a little scream, I realized it was him. "Oh, Tiny! I'm so sorry." Without knowing what to expect next, I kept staring at him and waiting, but he did exactly the same. Finally I told him, with a small smile: "Uh, I am looking for the exit. I need some fresh air." He raised his enormous, unnatural-looking arm, and pointed an also gigantic finger to my right. I smiled, once again liking the fact that he was around. Looking at him, I saw a disfigured, enormous man that hardly looked like a man – more like a monster. Still, he didn't strike me as a bad person. I couldn't sense either good or evil in Tiny. He was just himself, not living by moral standards – or the absence of them. Which would be very disturbing in a normal scenario, but considering where he was coming from, it was pretty comforting. "Thank you" I smiled at him, and followed the direction to the sunshine.

The sun was quite bright in that Texan afternoon. The air was moist and hot, and thankfully there was no wind raising the dust off the ground. I sat by the porch, enjoying my newfound freedom, and losing myself in thought. I was very surprised that no one had tried to stop me from going outside. It made me feel, for the first time, that I was truly a guest in that house, instead of a prisoner. The thought made me smile wide.

When I had first entered Otis' room, just a few minutes previously, I had been so much frightened and lost. But Otis had apparently bought into my lies, which made matters so much, uh, less deadly, for the time being. He had added some sugar to the mixture, a gentleness most unexpected, which had dissipated most of my immediate fears. I was so relieved, I could even stand the pressure of him asking me questions, and wanting me to make a Goat-Girl for him. Tough as hell, obviously, but I could handle it. And then things took a spin for the worse when he killed that woman in that aforementioned grotesque way, wiping her blood on his pants – why did he have to be so nasty? – as if purposely trying to shake my nerves again. But no, I still had some self-control left; of course they wouldn't let me keep it. Rufus had to get in there and ruin the last remains of my coolness. Which, thinking back, was not such a bad thing to happen. I mean – it put me in a momentary shock state, but it also awoke Otis' mellow side. I don't think Otis is the kind of guy who often makes a point of protecting damsels in distress – no, probably not often at all – so I didn't understand what was about me that caused that. He tried to calm me so very sweetly.

But then there were the magnetic forces; the two opposite poles attracting each other. I felt like a tiny needle getting increasingly close to a powerful magnet, at some point getting powerless in her will to resist and not jump on him. Otis was the most powerful magnet I had ever experienced, and its force frightened me. Hell, he had not only attracted me to him when we were in the same small room... he had pulled me towards him when we were in two different states... 27 years apart! I wondered if there were truly Physics involved.

The kiss had been unavoidable – for me, at least. Being in Otis arms, tasting his lips and his tongue, smelling him, being scratched by his beard... it all felt so perfect, so... right. But at the same time, it wasn't right at all, reason told me with disapproving eyes. It was playing with fire... so much fire to burn hell with it.

Playing with fire was so uncharacteristic of me. I had always been the type of girl who kept on the safe side. As a little girl, I would not climb on trees or walls, because maybe I would fall, and if I fell I may break my head. I would not try and meet new kids at the preschool, because maybe they would be mean to me and destroy my drawings. As I grew up, not much had changed. I had decided to be a teacher, mainly because it had seemed like such a stable, predictable career to follow, with a permanent full-time employment, and vacation on the same days every year. I chose my boyfriends considering a list of pre-requisites; having a clean background, and having a clear life plan being among them.

Any of my ex would have had a heart attack by seeing me kiss Otis, I thought, giggling to myself.

Gosh, I used to be sooo boring. Maybe that's why I enjoyed horror movies so much. They took me to a dark side that I hadn't began to experience in real life. They gave me a little taste for all that was wrong, not allowed, dangerous, exciting. Of course, I never expected to ever act onto those things. And now, there I was, watching the sunshine as I sat on the porch of the so-called House of 1000 Corpses. That thought made me giggle again.

"What are you laughing at?" came a voice from behind me.