Night 1 / Chapter 3: "Hot Flushes"
The drinks had gone to his head. Henry should have told Marilyn he was not good at holding his alcohol, but he had already turned down the cigarette and he considered it to be rude – or even embarrassing on her part – to make a repeat rejection.
"You know," she told him as she helped him along the hallway back to his room, "you don't have to act the macho man and drink for the sake of it, though I guess I should've warned you about Gregory's…a-hem…cocktails beforehand."
"What do you mean?" he slurred a little. "I've got the constitution of a horse."
"Maybe if the horse is a My Little Pony," she smiled.
"You're mean, you know that?" Henry smiled back, though his was somewhat lopsided. They came to room 101 and he tried the key.
"It won't open," Henry groaned.
"You're using it the wrong way round, honey," said Marilyn. "Give it here." The mouse took the iron key from him and unlocked the door, ushering him in and helping him onto the bed. "Get some sleep, okay? You'll feel better in the morning." She glanced over at the dressing table. Someone had set a brown vase there with a fresh rose inside. She pointed at the flower and muttered, "You behave yourself." Henry blinked.
"Goodnight," Marilyn nodded to him, then she was gone just like that. Henry was alone with the rose and his thoughts. For a long time he lay there on the bed, staring at the flower. After being knocked out by Catherine's tea, he was quite sure he would be too rested, but he dropped off in moments…or he nearly did anyway. He felt the bile rise in his throat and leapt to his feet, rushed out of the room and started prancing about the hallway in search of the bathroom. He soon found it and pushed past the door, and was greeted with something quite amazing. A child – he thought it was a child – with perfectly vertical spikes of blue hair and wearing only a pair of red shorts was splashing in the toilet bowl and screaming for help. The child's eyes were as wide as dinner-plates and its tongue flapped like paper. Henry swallowed back the bile and ran to the tiny creature's aid, but the moment his hand took hold he felt a powerful sucking motion and was dragged spiralling through a tunnel of water. He struggled to breathe, his lungs were on fire and already the vomit exploded back up his throat. He never saw the end coming, but he was dumped hard on the floor of the hallway, or was it another one? It was impossible to tell. He was too dizzy. He lay there in the musty carpet, deciding not to move until the right functions were back in the right senses.
"Hey, mister!" an energetic voice squeaked. Henry wiped slime from his lips with the back of his shirt sleeve and slowly turned his head. He would have thrown up again if he had anything left in his stomach. A little brown dog was hopping up and down in one of the doorways and chortling merrily. He was wearing a red pullover and blue jeans with big brass buttons on the braces. That was not what made him feel ill. The little pup's head was wrapped almost completely in bandages, and a fire-axe was plunged deeply into the top of his skull, stopping just above his eye-line. The dog's eyes were big and prominent, but they were dark, void of the spark of life. By all accounts of logic, he was dead, yet there he was.
"Are ya feelin' sick, mister?" the puppy asked. "You look sick, are ya sick, huh, huh, huh?" Henry wanted to tell this little bundle of kinetic energy to go away and play with his toys, but he was too disoriented. His throat and mouth felt clogged and his whole body was shaking.
"I know!" the puppy exclaimed. "I'll go get my daddy! If there's anyone who knows about being sick it's him!" He toddled into the room calling, "Daddy! Daddy!" Oh no, what now? Henry put both hands over the back of his head in the vain hope it would drain out the increasing unreality. Well, he was about to find out 'what now,' because a deep and slow voice spoke up, accompanied by shuffling footsteps.
"Oh my, hullo there, sir."
Henry looked up and released a timid peep. The puppy had returned with his father, a much larger version of himself wearing a dirty grey jacket and a double-pointed Arabian sabre jammed into his cranium. Unlike his son, the adult dog's eyes were half-closed and droopy.
"My son tells me you're very sick," said the father dog, "and I must say I do feel a little queasy myself. I've got this terrible headache, you know." Henry could see why. "I know! Why don't we both go see the nurse, hmm? She'll make it all better. She's very good at her job. You don't feel a thing afterwards. Up you get, sir." Henry was about to protest, but the father dog reached down and lifted him up with incredible strength that he never expected such a fragile-looking creature to possess. Laying him over his shoulder, the dog started off down the hallway with his son in tow, skipping and chirping all the way. Henry squirmed uselessly as the dog took him to a room marked 104. The door opened, and horror upon horrors! It was the accursed hospital room, and worst of all, the resident was in! A large pink lizard covered in dark magenta spots and love-hearts, with violet eyes under well made-up lids and long lashes. A purple forked tongue flickered out from between her lips.
"Oh, there you are," she cooed, swishing her long tail this way and that. "I'd wondered where you'd gotten too. Thanks for bringing him back."
"Oh, no problem, Catherine," said the father dog. "I had to speak with you anyway."
"Ah, yes," Catherine nodded. "Just set the poor little patient on the bed and I'll get you your medicine."
"You're a Saint, you really are," the father dog chuckled, laying Henry out on the bed as the nurse had told him. Catherine opened a cupboard high up on the wall and retrieved two large purple-and-yellow capsules, handing one each to the father and his son.
"Just take these and call me in the morning, darlings," she told them and waved them off. When they were gone, she slammed the door and quickly spun to face the prone Henry. "Now we're alone, sweetie." Her tongue flickered away. Henry tried to sit up but the moment he did, the sickness took hold again and he dropped onto his back. The nurse plucked one of her huge needles from a showcase and stroked the long barrel.
"Mm…I can't wait to draw your delicious blood!" she hissed with rising excitement. Henry's shirt ripped open of its own volition and BAM! the needle plunged deep into his torso. Henry's entire body felt numb as he watched the needle fill up with red, red life-blood. Catherine moaned and groaned in orgasm. "Oh, yes! Ooh, yes! I just love plunging deep into your juicy red vein!" The needle popped out and Catherine's tongue flicked at the end to lick up a hanging droplet. She laughed seductively and Henry tried to move, but all the strength, all the life had been sucked straight out of him. He sank into crushing oblivion.
XXX
Marilyn stood on the balcony outside her room on the hotel's top floor, smoking and looking over the barren landscape spread out in all directions. A greenish river flowed through the dead forest and vanished over the horizon. She inhaled the stale air deeply and sighed. How long had it been since she came here? Time was funny here. It did not seem to go forward or backwards, or even sideways. Gregory House existed in a singularity that lay at the convergence of all times, composed of concepts, regrets and realisations, truth and lies, a sort of maintenance spot for when the universe leaked. That was her explanation anyway, not that she completely understood it herself. Despite all her bitterness and attitude, Marilyn was indeed quite happy here. When she arrived, she had nothing. Her heart was empty, and like a hedgehog, anybody who tried to get close would only result in both them and her being hurt. Gregory and the others had given her what she wanted. A family. People to care for, and who would care for her in return. Megalomania and taunting personality aside, she did like Gregory. James was a little brat but so were most little boys, and while she could never get used to being referred to as, "Grandma," she came to find it endearing. As for Mama…well, what could be said about her? The old witch had her qualities. She looked over in the direction of the garden. The new gardener was doing a good job keeping everything in order, though she rarely spoke to her. The memories of her arrival were still vivid in her mind, and that included her disturbing encounter with one of the roses customarily left for the guests. Those things did not just prick the holder by accident. They thirsted for warm, nourishing blood.
"Hold me! Hold me!"
Marilyn shuddered.
"Grandma! Grandma!"
She turned in time to see James run into the room, fully dressed and with his usual happy grin plastered over his face.
"James, you're still up?" Marilyn put out her cigarette and dropped the charred remains in the bin.
"Uh-huh!" James nodded. "I heard there was a new guest! Catherine got hold of him and now he's stumblin' round like he's drunk or somethin'!"
"Oh no…" Marilyn put her palm to her face. She went through the trouble of getting him out of that situation only for him to wind up as Catherine's pin cushion anyway? How frustrating. She quickly marched out of the door with James following close behind.
XXX
When she finally found Henry in the veritable labyrinth of the hotel, he was lying barely conscious at the foot of a staircase. His skin had turned deathly white and his eyes were closed. His glasses had skittered across the floor (James grabbed these and put them on, but took them off again immediately because they threw off his balance.
"How the heck does he see through these?" the young mouse squawked.
"Clam up and help me with him," Marilyn scowled, lifting Henry's arms up. James quickly hopped over and took hold of his ankles and the two mice set off for the room yet again. Really it was the best place for him at this point. As they disappeared down the hallway, Gregory emerged from the darkness at the top of the stairs, holding a lit candle on a stick.
"Now that's interesting," he tittered, "I don't think any of the guests have ever been outright beaten into submission so frequently before. If this keeps up, taking this one could be easier than I initially thought."
