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It was dark and empty.
A little bleat echoed pathetically throughout the halls, sounding hollow, like a chest cavity with a shredded heart thumping in it. It was broken, defeated, and unsalvageable - just like an inhabitant of the labyrinth of the K-9 facility.
A rattling echoed throughout her skull after her plea, her limbs twitching spontaneously, her jaw unhinging and clacking as her nerves were set alight with agonizing spasms. Her screams were silent as her vocal cords seized up on her. It was a purgatory that lasted mere seconds, but made her beg to God for mercy, for answers, for some form of help. When the jerking finally ended, she took in a shaky breath, her punctured lungs calling for attention when the oxygen lurched down her airway and dissipated into the muscles around her ribs. It took her a moment to snap out of the brain fog she was in to realize how much torment her whole body was in, and she wished she was back in her state of shock upon first waking up. Every part of her body throbbed, and not in a dull manner. She couldn’t lift a single finger up, let alone move her legs in order to stand up and find the medical assistance she knew she desperately needed. And the blood, oh the blood. It felt like she had been skinned and every single cut vessel in her withering frame was oozing blood, and each one of those vessels was being gently treated with the horrendous sting of rubbing alcohol. She had to find a way out of this.
Though her vision was disrupted by some sort of vignette around her eyes, she tried taking in her surroundings. It was dim, but her senses eventually adjusted to the dingy room she was trapped in. Water dripped from the ceiling, a plop! occasionally ringing into her eardrums. Mold feasted on the walls, grazing on the damp environment and abandoned faculties. Dust lazed throughout the air, coating every surface like a dulling varnish. Her wandering eyes finally settled, though, to take in a door frame to her left, the wood sagging and sighing under the weight of the humidity pressing down on the space.
The door seemed to be open, and she considered crying out for help. She attempted, but found her vocal cords didn’t produce enough sound for anyone to hear her. A thought flashed across her mind, but she was initially quick to dismiss it. But after listening to her bated, shuddering breaths and feeling the squelch of her heart as its mangled bits still managed to beat, she decided to entertain the idea.
She was going to have to look for help herself.
The problem was, even when she tried her damndest, she couldn’t manage to bend any of her limbs voluntarily. Only her eyes seemed to be able to move, flitting about almost uncontrollably to each part of her body as she tried hopelessly to move each fragment. Her heart sank into her stomach, and her breathing sped up rapidly, filling lungs that couldn’t be filled anymore.
She was going to die here, with no one to find her remains.
Her heart sank further still. What about her kids? What about her husband? Where would they think she had gone? Would they think that she had abandoned them? Her husband…her husband…
What was left of her heart clenched as memories flooded back. Her husband…she had been looking for her husband…she had heard his voice beckoning to her from backstage…and then…and then…her memories blanked out.
She wilted, her body involuntarily starting to shake, her eyes, inset into the suffocating mask before her, threatening to well with imaginary tears at any second. And she would've let them fall, let herself fall had it not been for the thumping footsteps that clattered eerily through the doorway on her left.
Her body seized with panic, the purgatory flooding her system momentarily all over again. When she was hiccupped back to her senses, the impending footsteps sounded much closer. She gasped in a breath and pinched it in tight she as she shut her eyes just as tight, praying that the noise that crammed its echoes into every crevice of her would dissipate and her life would not be on the line. But they didn’t.
Even with her eyes squeezed shut she could feel the footsteps vibrate through the ground and rattle through her as they pushed through the doorframe and into what was her prison chamber. They didn’t approach her further, however. She could sense the frame of the person lingering in the room, just observing her. She could feel their stare, though she was unsure of the emotion behind it. She let a hiccup of air escape her as she threatened to open her eyes.
Before her leered a rabbit. Not the small, fluffy ones of flesh and bone and blood. A robotic one, its blue pelt decaying and stained. A red bow was planted firmly on its chest, the only place on the metallic scaffolding where the blotches of blood blended in seamlessly. But that wasn’t what churned her stomach. It was more so the oozing of purulent lumps of skin from any and every available joint, threatening to spill its contents like the bile forming in her demented stomach at any moment.
Maybe this rabbit wasn’t far off from being made of flesh and blood and bone, too.
“God, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered…” it muttered gently, eyes wandering directly into hers. She was startled, not only by the suddenness of it, but by how tenderly it was uttered. It took a step closer, hand threatening to caress her face. “Your eyes were just what she needed.”
She looked at its face, studied its features, settling on the open mouth it displayed. Two buck teeth proudly kept the maw from fully closing, stained yellow as though the teeth were from a chain-smoker. Wait…no…that couldn’t be right. She double checked that the cheeks were stretched and elevated on its face plate. They were. Was this thing…smiling? How could it be smiling when it was inherently so wretched and foul, when if she didn’t have a stomach that was popped like a balloon would have made her hurl?
“How are you doing, sweetheart?” it asked, it being the one to take the turn examining her from head to toe. “Hopefully it hasn’t been too painful yet.”
She nearly recoiled at the term of endearment. Sweetheart? What was this atrocious thing doing calling her that? She needed to get away, she needed to figure out how to move. She willed her arms or legs or hands or head or anything to just simply move, but instead her panic made her seize up again, rasps for breath coating the inside of her metallic tasting mouth.
The rabbit immediately leapt to soothe her electrocuting nerves, kneeling in front of her and rubbing her shoulder, which weirdly seemed to cease the torture. “Shh….shh…it’s alright Sha, you’re okay honey, I’m not here to hurt you…”
Sha…?
Once she was fully calmed down, she took a moment to properly examine herself. Sure, she had been looking at her limbs, trying to see if they would move, but she hadn’t fully processed what was there when she was looking. She hadn’t seen the patches of dirt lining an otherwise previously pristine white coat, or the black caps covering what used to be her hands. At just the right angle, they looked to be like…hooves?
A realization hit her violently head on, an explanation as to why she felt like she had been run over and served up on the side of the highway as roadkill.
She was somehow, inexplicably, INSIDE of the Sha the Sheep animatronic that her husband had built all those years ago. The same husband who had built the Bon the Bunny animatronic leering in front of her, offering comfort to her in her wretched state. The same animatronic that had to be meticulously programmed to make any sort of movement, the same one she had watched her husband struggle to code over and over, that was moving fluidly and without prompt in front of her right now.
Sha’s eyes flitted about once more, trying to wrap her mind around everything she was being forced to process. She so desperately wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a hiss, like it was as though the hydraulics in her husband’s animatronics were taking their last breath.
“Oh! Of course,” Bon chuckled to himself as he lifted himself back up onto his feet. How this putrid thing could be so calm and gentle astonished Sha. “I forgot. I had to do the same for myself. Let’s see…”
All Sha could do was look up helplessly into what could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, ironic considering she was the one stuck as a victim in the lamb animatronic. But nothing startling happened, at least movement wise. A low hum began emanating from the bunny as he tapped his foot, apparently trying to conjure up a rhythm. The melody sounded vaguely familiar, as though it was a song long lost to the dementia of death.
But then the words kicked in.
“Tiptoe, through the window, by the window, that is where I’ll be…"
Well, it was more so the voice that spoke to her. It wasn’t angelic by any means, heavens no. And dear God it was off-key, but not ear-piercingly so.
“Come tiptoe through the tulips with me…”
However, it was soothing. It had the ever slightest scratch to it, and sounded as though it came from a young man rather than a pus infested rabbit robot. And it was becoming ever more rapidly familiar with each note not quite reaching the right pitch.
She knew the voice.
But it was her time to shine.
She found her body moving of its own volitation, jaw clacking and her voice box finally jerking to life. “Oh, tiptoe, from the garden, by the garden, of the willow tree…"
Her head twisted and turned from left to right. Her arms lifted as though she were reaching for heaven and her fingers twinkled like the stars. Her hip joints attempted to turn and thrust her forward and backward, but as she had been leaning against the wall, it was rather uncomfortable as it slammed repeatedly into the plaster. Yet, still, she felt as though she were beaming from the inside out. She could move! There was hope that she could still be saved. There was hope that she could still get out and find her family and tell them she was alright. There was hope that she could find her…her thoughts stopped suddenly, although the routine of her body continued.
Bon’s voice blended in with hers as the verse turned into a harmonized duet before cutting off at an awkward point, a point where she knew the song did not end. “Knee-deep in flowers, we'll stray, we'll keep the showers away…And if I kiss you in the garden, in the moonlight, will you pardon me and tiptoe through the tulips with me?”
Although she found it odd subconsciously that as soon as Bon’s vocals ceased, so did hers, she was more focused on connecting the puzzle pieces with her fingertips that were once again working.
Bon’s voice was Jack’s. She had finally found him.
She attempted to say his name, her husband’s name, but her voice box did something that she could only explain as short circuiting, rerouting her to whisper into the damp air, “Bon?”
Bon smiled a smile that she only found endearing knowing now that it was her husband behind the creepy teeth bearing at her. “Hello, my darling."
“Is…is it really you?” she said in a hushed tone, as though he would blow away like the leaves of autumn if she spoke too loudly. She attempted to move her arm out towards him to check that he was physically there and not a part of her imagination. To her surprise, her limbs continued to work perfectly fine, as though underneath she were not smashed into pieces.
His smile widened even further as he obliged the request of her reaching arm, leaning forward so that her hand touched his chest, where she strangely felt a heartbeat. “Ah, so you’ve figured it out. You were always so smart, my love.”
“Bon, I…” Imaginary tears that her robotic body no longer allowed her to shed threatened to spill into the circuit boards below. “I was worried sick, what happened?” She glanced over him once more, remembering the repugnant stains and flesh bulging from the joints of his new body. “Really, honey….what the hell happened? I missed you so much.” Her voice trembled.
It was in vain that she tried to stand up in order to wrap her arms around her husband, her legs still not functioning for whatever reason, leaving her all the more perplexed.
He quickly moved to her aid, leaning back down to her level once again to teasingly chide her. “Ah, ah, ah,” he clucked at her. “Prompting one of our old routines by singing only unlocked the limbs that were actually programmed for you to move, like your arms and your head. Your feet were bolted to the stage and your legs were extremely stable to keep you from falling over while you performed. You’re going to need some help getting up, alright?”
Sha nodded, the explanation settling into her brain like grains of sand drifting to the bottom of a fishbowl. “How did you manage to figure that out?”
Bon merely winked before his face turned more serious. More…somber.
“Oh, it’s been too long, hasn’t it…I missed you too, Sha,” he admitted, pulling her into a hug which she melted into and reciprocated. Her husband had never had felt arms before, with bones of metal underneath, but it was still her husband’s arms wrapped around her. Comforting her. Protecting her.
“I never thought I’d get to hug you again,” she confessed, voice wobbly. Bon delicately took his spindly fingers and rested them on her cheeks, his thumb nearly twitching towards her eye to wipe away tears that she could no longer produce. Old habits truly did die hard, she supposed.
“Don’t worry, Sha. My plan was to always find you again, okay? I would never, ever, abandon you, no matter what it took,” he said so firmly that she could nearly see the love behind his decomposing eyes. A shudder would have rippled through her if she was in her own body. But she wasn’t. She shook the thought away. It was okay. She was with him. She was with her husband. She was with Jack again. It didn’t matter what form, what…reincarnation it took…right?
“Okay,” she stated simply. It felt like a promise that she would do the same. She knew it was a promise that she would do the same. And she knew that Jack realized that.
There was a moment of silence where the two stared softly at the new beauty of the other before Jack seemed to snap out of it. “Oh, right. We need to get you walking.” He slipped his elongated, unnatural hands under her armpits and hoisted her up, Sha grabbing onto his shoulders for extra support. His eyes were squeezed shut and she could hear some labored grunts coming from whatever remained of his lungs, but otherwise she was on her feet in no time, legs wobbling. Maybe the sturdy structures that used to fill the hollow tubes were worn down from the humidity, but she wasn’t the expert here.
His hand adjusted her own so that it rested on his shoulder before continuing to hold her meagerly up by her armpit. A rather silly thought crossed her mind, where she hoped she wasn’t too sweaty there, but she realized that even if she were still fully human, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The whole place was sweaty, a sauna of filth that she was ready to stagger her way out of.
“You alright? Feeling supported?” Bon asked, his free hand meandering over to her chest. Her expression soured, thinking the gesture vulgar, but Bon quickly dismissed her worries with a “Don’t worry, I’m just checking to see how fast your heart is beating…if it is at all anymore.”
She laughed at the absurdity of the sentence, and when she continued to think about how she was laughing about the absurdity of her laughing in these sorts of conditions, she laughed even more. Jesus, whatever was happening to them was fucked up.
A sunny smile filled Bon’s face, with him sweetly commenting, “God, you don’t even know how refreshing it is to hear you laugh again.”
A grin filled her own face, just as warm and sunny, but also teasing. “Such a romantic, aren’t you?”
The needle of his finger affectionately swatted her nose as he sincerely replied, “Anything for you, my darling.”
They each took a moment to catch their shuddering breaths before looking at each other, determination glittering in their eyes. And finally, the couple stumbled their way haltingly and awkwardly (as they had to squeeze through the door sideways to both fit at the same time) out of the jaws of the damp K-9 room that had imprisoned her for more time than she would have ever wanted. And while her legs barely worked, she knew she had, could, and always would trust her husband to help her over any hurdles she faced. Together. And she would do the same.
. . .
“Come on, Rose, hurry up,” Jack chuckled gleefully, sounding like a kid racing down the stairs on Christmas morning. She giggled back, breath catching as he tugged her along by the wrist. They raced into the restaurant and down the halls, their momentum finally screeching to a stop in front of one of the many doors that lined the corridor. Even though it was unmarked, Rosemary had a feeling that it was his workshop. He was always eager to show her his new creations, but something about this time felt different.
“Alright, I want you to close your eyes for me, okay?” Jack requested, already positioning himself behind his wife to lead her into the room ahead. She obliged, palms covering her eyes as she settled into the darkness behind her eyelids.
“No peeking,” he chided, even though they both knew she would keep the promise regardless of whether or not he had said that.
She heard the click of the door unlatching as Jack presumably opened the door, keeping it pushed open with one hand while the other guided her by the small of her back. She carefully stepped forward, trusting that Jack wouldn’t let her bump into one of the many random pieces of scrap and junk lying around haphazardly. They slowly made their way deeper and deeper, until Jack’s other hand that had decided to rest on Rosemary’s arm gave her a gentle squeeze, and she stopped her cautious steps.
She heard the patter of his shoes as he took a few steps to rest in front of her, gently pulling her hands away from her eyes, although they remained shut. “You can look now,” he said gently, quickly stepping out of the way as she blinked her eyes open. The light hit her retinas and it took her a moment to adjust. But when she did, a sheep animatronic lay before her, quite a few feet taller than her.
Rosemary’s breath hitched as she took in the creature. It had an uncanny nature of reality to it, but the rest of it was, even she had to admit, rather adorable and well-crafted. Its coat looked cuddly and gentle, like the animatronic was almost huggable. And no matter where she looked, her eyes kept flickering back to the animatronic’s eyes and smile. They were somehow warm and gentle, even though it was just plastic, metal, and fabric. It reminded her of someone. It reminded her of…
“Do you like her? I…modeled her after you,” Jack admitted softly, clutching his wife gently to him from behind and leaning over to rest his head on her shoulder.
“I…well…she’s…” Rosemary stammered, not out of fear or disgust, but out of amazement to the gesture and how well her features had been grafted onto a whole different species, struggling to find a way to explain how she was feeling.
She finally settled on a word she found to be right. “Beautiful.”
Jack smiled. “Just like you, my dear. Just like you.”