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The Decision

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The day started out just like any other, with you trying to scrub away the dirt and grime from the floorboards. Every day the task seemed to get harder. That was okay with you though; it kept you busy while you stayed in the house, with the whole ‘not being allowed to leave’ thing and all. Your arms were burning by noon.

You were scrubbing at one spot in particular, a thick crusting of what was probably blood, when the sound of screaming came from outside. Bubba must’ve caught a trespasser.

“No, no, please!” the lady screamed. The door slammed open and the heavy footfalls of Bubba sounded from the foyer, audible from the main room you were in.

“Shut the fuck up!” You looked up as Charlie and Bubba passed by with the girl; Bubba was practically dragging her, holding onto both of her arms tightly. You figured the mock-sheriff had something to do with her capturing. He spotted you from where you were crouched and grinned devilishly. “You,” he said, “come with us.”

You stood to follow them down the stairs to the basement, swallowing the lump in your throat. You never saw the killings outright, only heard them. The nightmares you had just from the sounds was awful enough; it was obvious Charlie was aiming to torture you at this point. You knew not to deny him, though; not even Bubba would stop from hurting you if you disobeyed.

Bubba threw the girl down onto the watery floor of the basement. She screamed and splashed as she crawled backwards. “Please, no, no noo!” she begged. You could see a clearly bleeding wound down her left arm, blood dripping into the water. “Please don’t hurt me!” Her back hit the leg of one of the tables, rattling the items on it.

You had a brief moment of wanting to ask if you could clean the goddamn basement, but quickly shook it from your head. There were more pressing matters to deal with, like the girl bleeding everywhere and crying snot and tears.

Charlie laughed, crossing his arms. “Fucking precious, aren’t ‘ya?” he sneered. “Think all that begging will help? As if you wouldn’t be a nuisance if we let you live.”

You glanced towards Bubba; he was toying with his chainsaw, wanting to finish the job.

“I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t, please let me go! I’ll do anything! I promise I won’t tell the cops!” She then crawled forward, completely out of character for what you expected a victim to act.

But isn’t that what you did, beg for them to let you live? You dug your nails into your fists to get rid of the thought.

You could see the fear deep in her eyes as she reached Bubba, but you could also see determination. “I’ll do anything, please, just let me live!” Her voice cracked on the ‘anything’, teary eyes trained up at Bubba.

He looked from her, to Charlie, to you, then back again, obviously confused about what he should do. He held up the chainsaw in question, letting Charlie decided whether or not to kill her. That was the thing when one of the family was around, he would always give up absolute control around them. It only made you slightly afraid.

Charlie tilted his head, smile spreading on his face. “Now, isn’t that sweet?” He walked past you and knelt beside her, petting her head. “What an absolute slut. Usually I don’t like bitches like you, but,” he looked up, “you remind me of someone.”

You stared back blankly. You remembered, clear as day, when you were the one begging for them to let live. Of course, you didn’t think about offering what she was; you simply offered to clean and cook. The bargain amused Charlie, who let you live on a whim. You couldn’t help the little twinge of jealousy at the thought that you wouldn’t be the only one who was allowed to live.

“How about this?” Charlie stood and patted you on the back. “Why don’t we let the big man decide, hmm? Should we let her live, or will we have some new meat to try?”

“Please,” she begged again. “Please let me live.” She tried to give a hopeful smile.

You saw her hands grip the bottom of the jeans Bubba was wearing, soaked with the disgusting water you all stood in. A look of disgust came upon your face. She couldn’t give Bubba the love he deserves, you told yourself. No matter what she did, she would be disgusted by him. Nobody who hates Bubba is deserving of life.

“Kill her.”

The coldness of your words, the thoughts in your head, all were surprising to you; when did you start to think like that? But the deed was done. Bubba made an excited noise, turning the chainsaw on and giving you a gleeful look before straight up plunging the chainsaw into her. Screams filled the basement. You couldn’t look away from it, blood gushing and spraying from the chainsaw and leaking from her mouth. You felt like you were going to be sick, even more so when Charlie’s laughter sounded from beside you, hands clasping your shoulders and shaking with his hysterity.

You stood there even as Bubba dragged her body away elsewhere in the basement to do whatever it was he usually did with the bodies. Charlie had left soon after, give you a final pat with a, “Good choice”. You didn’t even realize the killing had stopped until Bubba came out from behind a corner and made a distressed noise, rushing towards you to wrap you up in his large form. You hugged him back, albeit a lot looser due to how far away you felt.

“I’m alright,” you mumbled. “I’m alright.”

Truth was, you weren’t alright; you were horrified at your thoughts and the decision you made. It was your fault she died. But it was for good reason, wasn’t it? Bubba wouldn’t understand what she was offering, wouldn’t be able to handle her look of disgust with him, and you knew she would be disgusted. Not like you. You loved Bubba, probably more than anyone else in his fucking family. At this thought you were quick to hold him tight.

“You did good, Bubba,” you praised. “You did the right thing.” You turned your head and kissed the side of his head, feeling the scratchy, cold surface of the mask against your lips. Everything was going to be fine.

Nobody was going to hurt your Bubba.