At the Osborns' mansion, Martha just arrived in her room after retrieving her son from the hospital. She looked exhausted yet frustrated and shaken at the same time. The only thing on her mind now was having a drink to ease her nerves. She went over to her liquor cabinet in the corner of the room, even putting on a record while at it. Something smooth yet relaxing before settling down in the armchair near a wide window that showed off the balcony. She would rather be outside to get some fresh air, but the storm clouds still loomed overhead, possibly more rain to come and the furniture outside was too drenched to be comfortable to sit on at the moment. So instead, she cracked open the transom window door before leaning back in her seat as she tried to relax as much as possible. Pouring a fresh glass of scotch before chugging it down. It burned her throat, but she liked the high feeling it gave her before pouring another. Her eyes then trailed to one of the dressers nearby to see a small picture frame sitting there. A young boy, no more than three years old smiling big and happily in a little sailor suit.
Martha reached over to pick up the frame and held it close to her. How much did I miss of my little boy's life already? She asked herself, rubbing her thumb on the corner of the boy's face. Have I been that neglectful? She thought, after recalling getting a call from the school that her son never went that morning. It was unusual and frustrating that the limo driver she hired refused to answer her texts and calls through the evening, until they finally answered that something had happened at her husband, Norman's laboratory. Why was Harry there in the first place? Was Norman behind it? No, he wouldn't. He did not want Harry or her there, even if they did do a surprise visit. One time on their fifteenth anniversary, Martha stopped by his office only to be screamed at and thrown out by security. In fact, he never apologized and only scolded her more for even stepping foot in his beloved laboratory. That's all he cared about; his goddamn research. After that, Martha turned to alcohol to cope with her feelings but now realized she had punished her son as well in the process for four years.
When was the last time she even spent time with Harry? She knew he was part of a basketball team during middle school, but she wasn't into sports and would rather stay home and watch her soap opera than see her son chase a damn ball around with other boys his age. It wasn't entertaining. Then again, her husband suddenly had the urge to see his last game. That was unusual of him in the first place, but he still went back to his laboratory right after, which really upset Harry.
Hazily, she remembered that night. Hearing Harry slam the front door and loudly stomping up to his bedroom, making so much noise that Martha just yelled at him. She doesn't recall what was said, her mind was a bit foggy that night from drinking. All she knew was that he was acting like a typical teenager. Then again, maybe he wasn't after all. Damn it, what did he say three weeks ago? Was it three weeks? She could not remember, no matter how hard she tried. Martha groaned and she held the back of her hand to her forehead, still holding onto the glass cup, that's now empty.
Suddenly, Martha got up. Putting down her glass and the picture frame before heading back into the hallway and down past a few grand windows in the darkness before reaching Harry's door. Slowly, she cracked the door open and peaked in, seeing a lump in her son's bed. She then proceeded to step inside and approach his bed and look down at him. Before her, she only sees the pure, innocence of her sleeping child. It's been a long time since she saw him in this state and Harry still sleeps just like when he was so little long ago. She could not help but lean over and softly kiss his forehead. Just like what she used to do and pulled the cover closer to his shoulder.
Harry stirred before lightly opening his eyes. "Mm-mom?" He grumbled, half awake.
Martha shushed him. "it's okay Harry, go back to sleep. I was just checking up on you."
Harry nodded before closing his eyes once more.
Martha stood there for a moment before turning away and tip-toeing back out of her son's room before lightly cracking the door closed. Once that was settled, she went back to her own room and sat once again in the armchair, feeling more relaxed knowing her son is safe and seems fine, for now.
Harry may seem fine, but Martha knows clearly the doctor requested her to keep an eye on her son for a while. Meaning he can not go to school or leave the comfort of his home until he is stable.
What happened in that lab? She wonders, as she leans on her hand, placing a finger near her lips as she thinks how she is able to do this, mainly on her own. Her husband, who knows what happened to him, seems to be gone. Right now, all Martha knows is that the bodies that they gathered up were being identified. So far, she had not received a call of Norman's remains. Was he still alive, possibly? Or is he hiding after that accident? Seems topical of him doing if he was doing something sketchy all along. But why leave their son behind? Is that the reason why Harry was possibly the only survivor through that whole incident in the first place? There were so many unanswered questions that she started to get a headache.
Unconsciously, she reached for her glass cup from earlier and poured some of the scotch to the brim. She then paused for a moment. "I should stop this…" she said, before getting up and stepping out onto the balcony. The cool breeze felt nice for a moment as she leaned over the railing and stared out into the distance, beyond the treetops. Is she able to stay in this mansion or even able to keep up with it on her own, she wonders. Twirling the glass side to side as the liquid splash and drip from the edges before she completely dumps it down below from the second floor to the lawn below. It may be a waste, but it won't be worth anything anyway, as she needs to think clearly and needs to get rid of her addiction. She possibly needs a job as soon as possible and has to sell the mansion while at it. Adjusted to her new life as a single mom and focused on her son's mental health. The doctor did tell her he may have some traumatic symptoms and even recommended some therapy in the process. How much is that going to cost her? With what money?
Yes, she has some money now, tons of it in fact, but for how long will it last? More likely, families of those employees in those facilities are going to be after her in no time because of her name, Osborn. Should she change it back to her previous maiden name while she is at it? Her eyes went down to her hand as she looked at her diamond ring and wedding band. They're possibly worth some money if she pawns it, came to mind.
As she was deep in thought, something was crawling right behind her. Leading down from the side of the house before stepping upon the balcony beside her, making a light crackling sound from its massive weight.
Martha turned and saw a great, huge beast standing in the dark that she almost let out a scream. But the creature was so fast that it covered half her face with its massive hand and had her body tipping over the railing from the impact. It almost seemed like it was trying to push her off but it held her in place and only gave out a hushing growl.
Mmm… mmmmaaaar…. Mmmmmaaaartha," it try to say, as if it was trying to speak to her.
Martha blanked out for a moment before staring up at the creature. Its face looked sort of human but green with horns looking like a classic devil from the lighting coming from her bedroom behind and his eyes glowing yellow. But its facial features could not be mistaken.
"Norman?" She muffled beneath the hand of the creature as it eagerly nodded its head before removing it and placing her footing back upon the ground once more.
Martha was speechless as she looked at him up and down. He was barely clothed and his pants could barely stay attached for it seems to be outstretched and ripped in some places.
"Oh god," she muttered, "What happened to you? You look… you look… oh god…" she didn't know how to react and quickly pushed past him as she ran into the bedroom, quickly trying to shut the door behind her in the process. But the creature-Norman, quickly went after her and easily broke into the glass frame door, causing the whole thing to shatter. Martha jumps back, avoiding the shards of glass raining upon the floor as the monster Norman keeps approaching her.
"Mmmmmaaaartha," it cried out for her but she only turned away and covered her ears.
"Don't you DARE say my name! I want you gone! I wish you were dead then this… this… this thing!" She screamed.
Suddenly, she feels something pull and twist her around as she is forced to look upon the creature. It growled and grit his teeth at her.
"Don't you touch me!" She backed away, being more terrified of this thing. Norman snorted and fully stood taller, as if he was trying to intimidate her somehow. Even though it was working. "You know what," Martha said, "Maybe this look does suit you after all," she said with disdain in her voice, as she looked at him, "You are finally becoming the thing you are. A monster."
Norman growled before reaching out for her and held her up in the air by her head and hair. Martha screamed and wailed as she thrashed her feet and desperately clawed her fingernails into his tough skin on his forearm, that she could not dig in. Slowly, she could feel him tightening his grip around her head as if he was squeezing her skull.
"Nnnnnnnaaaaaa mmmmmmmeeeeee" he growled as his grip tightened.
Martha cried out. "Norman! Ow! Norman, please! Think about Harry! Think about our son!" She begged him, not wanting to die. Not like this. She had plans. She had goals that she did not even have a chance to try. Harry…. Is all she could think about at that moment.
"Harry…" she cried out for her son, as she felt a surging heat pressing on top of her head.
"Haaaarrry!" She screamed once more before there was a flash of light and a sharp pain spread across her body.
Her screams were blood curdling as Norman quickly dropped her and backed away from her body as it started to gulf into flames. She rolled on the ground helplessly followed by her screams.
He did not want this to happen. This was not what he planned. He quickly looked around the room to find anything but there was nothing that he could use to drench out the fire. It had already started to spread as she rolled around. Bumping into things as the carpet, the furniture, everything it touches flames grew and soon he was standing in it, untouched. The flames did not burn him nor attach to him. It was like he was immune or rather fireproof. Did HE make those flames?
As the flames grew, Martha no longer twisted and her screaming had suddenly died out as her flesh and muscles all burned away.
Norman looked down at her body, her eyes sucked in and empty, looking back at him.
You should have not made me angry, Norman thought to himself. This was your fault, not mine. You made me do this. He put all his faults upon the burning skull before him, as it did not respond but only slowly started to crisp into ashes. Don't look at me for I did nothing wrong! You could have accepted me but you denied me and this is your punishment!
"Mom?!" Called a voice that Norman snapped out of his train of thought before looking over at the door left wide open. Standing there was Harry, with wide eyes in horror upon his mother's crisp corps.
"Mom!" Harry screamed before looking at Norman standing beside the body. His face was paler than before. "Dad…" Harry muttered, "you killed mom…. You killed mom…"
No….. Norman tries to say but only let out growls.
"You're going to kill me next…. Are you?" Harry cried as he stepped back with tears.
No! Norman begged as he tried to speak but his voice could not be made out but could only muster the words, "Haaaarrrrry!"
But Harry backed away and bolted down the hallway.
No! Harry! Come back! Come back! It was an accident! She made me do it! She made me!
Norman begged in growls then words as he stretched his hand towards his son when suddenly, a fireball escaped from the palm of his hand.
No! My son! Not my son!
A miracle, Harry tripped and fell forward as the fireball zoomed over his head, almost scorching him and hitting the other side of the house, causing more flames to grow throughout the mansion.
Harry, please Harry, let me explain….
Norman slowly started to approach his son, trying to speak between his growls that could not probably turn into words.
Harry turned and looked at him as he screamed and ran for his own life down the staircase. Norman did not chase him and let him go as he could hear his son screaming for help the moment he reached outside.
Norman did not chase Harry any further and decided he had to leave.
I'm sorry Harry…..
He tried to say before leaping out from the back of the house to hide away. Far away as possible. He did not know where he was going, but he found shelter in an abandoned warehouse he could find and took shelter within.
For the very first time in his life, he put himself in a fetal position in a corner. Thinking about his son. His wife. His home. Now all gone to become a creature he is now.
You're a monster!
Martha's voice repeated in his head, over and over again that he could never find ease as he tried to rest.
Hey, just to inform, I had to reedit chapter 33 after pointing out with some mistakes and in-corrections i have made. I hope I improve as I go along for I have been doing this particular story since I was 12 and well…. its getting better then I originally have it so far. Trust me….
See you in the next chapter, for this one I need to work REALLY hard on.