They Call Me Teddy: (Enemies to Lovers Horror Romance)

by Ella Burns

  "Can I go with Branson?" she asks timidly. Jane's face reddens, and I wanted to scream at the girl for drawing attention to me. Through gritted teeth Jane replies, this time with a much sharper tone.

  "No. Get in your cage." Amelia doesn’t object further and steps in, immediately picking up a toy bear she had arrived with. Jane glares at me before leaving the room.

  I wait a few minutes to make sure she isn't coming back right away before leaning forward to grab the bars.

  "You can't do that," I tell her. "Don't ask questions, don't argue. Just do what Jane tells ya, okay?"

  Amelia's bottom lip quivers. "I just wanted to..."

  "No!" I say a bit too sharply. Seeing Amelia wince at my tone, I soften my voice. "Amelia, I know this is all new for you, but please listen to me, okay?”

  The girl nods at me.

  “Whatever Jane tells you, you do it, okay? Don’t matter what it is. Do not argue, don’t ask questions. Got it?” For a moment, Amelia says nothing but finally she nods.

  I lean back against my cage and close my eyes.

  ✽✽✽

  A routine forms and about once a week, we are brought into our respective cages for Jane’s projects. I’ll go back to my room for a few days, go upstairs to clean once or twice, then it all repeats. I’m eating better and Amelia calms me in a way nothing ever has.

  The next few subjects are sedated or dead and I’m thankful, both for Amelia’s sake and my own. I can always tell when they are sedated and not dead, though, because my books have taught me that the dead don’t bleed.

  Amelia seems to be fascinated by what she sees, not at all disturbed like I was when young. As much as this small girl exudes innocence, I know there is a darkness hiding beneath those big eyes. Where darkness was brought into my life, I think Amelia brought it with her.

  When we are alone, Amelia talks to me. Tells me about her life before this and things she has seen. I have come to look forward to it and our time together, waiting for Jane and Bud to return with the latest subject. I guess it is easier to keep Amelia down here than risk her trying to leave from upstairs, not that I think Amelia would leave. I’m not totally sure how much of what is happening she understands, and I am not about to suggest something that is sure to get her punished.

  I listen to Amelia tell me a story about her favorite foods, one I’ve heard before but always love to hear. She likes ice cream and pasta and loathes anything with pickles. I don’t remember what those things taste like, but seeing how happy and excited she is when she talks about it makes my insides feel warm. Watching her face get all screwed up when she talks about pickles makes me laugh. For the first time I can remember, Amelia is making me feel some semblance of happiness.

  Until we hear footsteps come down the corridor and I know our time is ended for today. Jane strolls in, Bud follows behind her with a man he is dragging by his armpits. I hear a small groan and know the man is still alive. Amelia is watching Jane with curiosity when she walks over to open her cage. I watch with trepidation as Jane kneels down to address the small girl.

  “Teddy, baby, today is the day!”

  The small girl's eyes light up with excitement.

  “Really?” She squeals, and Jane smiles at her affectionately.

  I think I’m going to be sick. Amelia skips over to the table with Jane and looks down at the man with interest.

  “Why is he still sleeping, Mama?”

  Jane sighs and puts her hand on Amelia’s head.

  “Well, sweetie. This man was very bad before he came here to us to be saved. He did drugs and bad things and poisoned his body. Since it is your first time, he agreed to stay asleep so you can do your art in peace.”

  Amelia smiles before turning back to me. “I get to make art!”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to keep the bile from my throat. If I thought it would help, I would cover my ears, but there is nothing to keep the sounds from getting to me. I hear everything.

  I hear when Jane offers Amelia a scalpel.

  I hear the man’s skin being pulled apart.

  I hear the wet splatter of god-knows-what.

  And I hear Amelia giggling.

  I remember the first time Jane showed me a person's insides. I cried until she slapped me across the face. I don’t think I’ve cried since then. I do remember that I used to be bothered by the blood, though.

  But not Amelia.

  Throughout the entire project, Amelia is fascinated. Happy. Whatever darkness is in me now was one born from circumstance. My lack of empathy is one instilled in me by necessity, and by Jane.

  But not Amelia. Not Teddy.

  Though she appears small and sweet, I am afraid she already has the same darkness that lives in Jane. Only time will tell.

  Chapter Five

  Branson

  I’m already in my cage, as usual, when Amelia is brought down again a few days later. I haven’t been brought upstairs since her first victim, and my eyes follow the girl as she and Jane walk into the room. Neither says anything while Jane opens the cage and lets the girl in. By the time the door shuts, Amelia’s hands are already wrapped around the bars of her cage and she’s looking at me hopefully.

  “Hi, Branson!” she greets, “I read the rest of that story last night, so now I know the ending! So, the prince—”

  I shake my head lightly but don’t say anything and her words trail off.

  “Branson, what’s the matter?”

  I sigh and look up at her, noticing how big and worried her eyes look.

  “Amelia….” I stop, unsure how to say what I need to.

  “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Are you mad at me?”

  I look up at her watching me earnestly and sigh.

  “No, I’m not mad at you,” I tell her, “I just… What did you think of your project?”

  Amelia’s face splits into a wide smile. “Oh, Branson, it was so fun! Did you see me? Jane said I did a really good job too, and today, I get to do more.”

  A headache pounds unforgiving behind my eyes.

  “Amelia, you shouldn’t—fuck—I mean...”

  “What is it?”

  I consider what I can possibly say. Does she even understand what she’s doing? She must. She’s not that young, is she? Should I even tell her? And if I do tell her, what then? She’ll either feel bad about what she’s doing and that is just doing to get her in trouble with Jane, or she won’t. And is that something I am prepared for? Better for her she wants this, that she doesn’t end up like me.

  Standing there in her pink lace dress—the picture of innocence—she watches me.

  “Nothing, Amelia. Just want to make sure you’re happy.”

  In hell, innocence is a curse, not a blessing. And I won’t be the reason for her curse.

  Chapter Six

  Branson

  Two Years Later

  “Get up, lazy!” A small, shrill voice yells at me. “It’s cleanup time!”

  I barely manage to hide the groan as I push myself off the cold floor. My head is pounding, but that is nothing new, and the sound of Mia singing the cleanup song is only making it worse.

  I stumble as I stand and make my way over to the doorway where she leans down to unchain my foot. The only time I’m allowed off the ankle chain now is if I have to go to the workroom to clean, and as much as it’s a horrible job, it’s also a sweet relief to get away from the constant chafe of the metal ring. The one on my neck, however, is never removed.

  I made the mistake almost a year ago to try to escape with Amelia. At first, it almost seemed like we might succeed until we got part-way through the house and the girl began to panic and scream. Since then, I’ve been in chains.

  I lean down and let Amelia click the leash into place and drag my feet down the hall behind her. She is still humming the cleanup song under her breath as she walks me, like a dog, through the gallery and into the workroom. I have to hunch over a bit because she is so small still.

  “Ahh, my f
avorite pet,” Jane says as we enter. “And how are we doing today?”

  Jane cackles as though she’s said the wittiest thing, but I say nothing. This last year I’ve learned that it makes no difference if I answer or not, if I’m respectful or rude. The end result is always the same.

  “Alright, pet. Chop chop! I want this place spic and span.”

  And with that, they leave me to their mess, clicking the door locked behind me.

  I sigh and squeeze the bridge of my nose for a moment to try to get rid of the headache before opening my eyes again to see what I’m dealing with today. It doesn’t work, of course, but this also doesn’t surprise me. It smells fresher, at least, so I think this was a shorter kill. Probably one of Mia’s, then. I’ve heard Jane complain the girl has no patience with her kills. As I look down at the mess, I shudder to think of what a long kill would look like.

  Without further delay, I make my way over to the cupboard, grab some garbage bags, and start to pick up pieces of bone and flesh.

  It takes me a few hours to clean the worst of the mess and now my head is pounding worse from the sickening smell of bleach and blood. I pause for a moment and sit, deciding how to tackle the last of the bloodstains, when Mia walks in.

  “Tsk tsk,” she wags a finger at me, “Taking a break? I don’t think Jane would like that much.” Her smile is mischievous, and I narrow my eyes at her. She giggles before her face gets serious and she glances down the hall behind her.

  “How are you?” she whispers in a different voice, the real one, not the high-pitched psychotic one that she adopts for Jane. Not the voice of Teddy. I give her a wan smile and nod.

  “I’ll be okay, just a headache.”

  She nods and looks down the hall again to make sure no one is coming before taking a bottle of water from a pocket in her dress and handing it to me. I grab it and drink it down greedily, ignoring the splashes that rain down on my bare chest.

  Mia watches me without judgement and takes the empty bottle when I finish.

  “Thank you,” I rasp. She nods before turning and skipping back down the hall. She hums a lullaby as she leaves and I close my eyes for a moment, letting the sounds wash over me, before turning back to my work.

  ✽✽✽

  It’s a few more days in my room before Bud shows up to bring me to clean the workroom again. As soon as I enter the room, the smell of blood washes over me and I know it’s going to be a long day. My eyes fall over the varying surfaces coated with red. I notice a small shoe print on the floor and know who made this mess.

  Swallowing back my judgement, I start to work and let my mind wander to the P encyclopedia I started reading.

  Palatine bone. Palm. Palpebral gland.

  I hear soft footsteps carry down the corridor and wait to see if another set follows, breathing a sigh of relief when it doesn’t. Mia steps in looking pristine and out of place.

  “Sorry about that,” she says, nodding down to the puddle of blood at my feet. “Hit a vein I didn’t mean to. Got all over Jane, though. It was hilarious.”

  The corner of my mouth does twitch at the thought, but I don’t say anything, turning back to my mop.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks me quietly. I slow my movements while I consider my words. It’s not like I blame ‘Teddy’ for the things she does with Jane, and making her feel shitty about it hardly helps, but I’ve never been able to lie to her. I look at her and sigh.

  “How can you do it?” I ask her, and without needing to ask, I can tell she knows what I mean.

  “I don’t know how you can’t,” she says with a shrug, “You’d be surprised, Branson, at how good it feels. It’s like nothing else.”

  I don’t say anything.

  “At least I got her to stop doing kids and stuff, and you know none of them are good people.”

  She knows the right things to say because she knows me all too well. A familiar pang of regret at not trying to talk to her sooner stabs me, but really, I know there is nothing I ever could have done.

  “It’s not their death that bothers me,” I tell her. “It’s that I’m worried that Jane will twist you too far. That you’ll be like her. You’re too perfect to be anything like her.” I reach a hand out to touch her cheek and she smiles.

  “I’ll never be like her,” she promises. I give her a sad smile back but say nothing, and after a few minutes, I hear her footsteps fading back down the hall.

  That night I dream of viruses. Infecting darkness wherever they go.

  In my dream, the virus’s name was Jane.

  Part 2

  Though she be but little, she is fierce.

  William Shakespeare

  Chapter One

  Teddy

  Two Years Later

  Age Fifteen

  “Can I get new bed sheets for my room too?” I ask Jane as we pull up the driveway. It’s been years since we’ve come up this road, but I’ll never forget it. The city isn’t so far behind us, but even still, this seems like our own world out here.

  “We’ll see,” Jane replies, and I can tell she isn’t really paying attention to what I just said. My eyes narrow but I say nothing. She’s been in a foul mood all day and I don’t know why; you’d think she would be happy about coming home. I’m fairly sure it has something to do with Branson, though she’d never admit it. A smile curves on my lips when I think of the fun I’m going to have with him.

  “Do you think Branson missed me?”

  I notice Jane tense up next to me–I’ve gotten good at reading her–but she turns to me, the smile on my own lips mirrored on her. My eyes peer into hers, an inky black I’ve always loved. Mine are this ridiculous bright green shade that seem to hide nothing. Jane gives me shit for being so easy to read. She doesn’t realize I’ve gotten excellent at playing all my parts, including hiding things from her when I need to.

  Little Teddy is all grown up and can’t wait to play with old toys.

  “I think he likely did,” she answers slowly. “I imagine your reunion will be quite… interesting for him.”

  We pull up to the driveway and I breathe in through my nose, smiling on the exhale.

  “Yes, I think you’re right.”

  The bushes around the property are denser than I remember, the paint on the exterior of the house more chipped away, but otherwise it’s exactly the same. The barn around the side, not visible from where we stand. What I know to be black paint covers the inside windows, keeping all that’s inside hidden.

  “Do you miss your gallery?” I ask Jane as she steps out of the car.

  “I do,” she replies wistfully. “The country was beautiful, but it’s not the same. I’ll send Bud up to get some of our works in a few weeks once I’ve settled.”

  “We’re going to need more space soon.”

  “If you wouldn’t make such big pieces, then we’d have plenty,” she snaps, and I laugh. Jane gets solemn as she stands there and looks at the property. I know now that it was her family’s when she was a child. Her mother ran the antiques business out of the barn that she still uses. I’ve tried to probe more about Jane’s past, about why she is who she is, but I haven’t gotten far.

  I’m not an idiot and know Jane’s a psycho. Fuck, I’m no better. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to understand the woman who has mentored me, nurtured my darkness, and let it thrive. My real mom was hardly a mom, but even that junkie whore saw something inside me and tried to tame it.

  I’ve always been fascinated by the macabre, but it’s Jane who let it flourish.

  She’s a controlling madwoman, and I owe her everything.

  “You okay, Mama?” I ask her, knowing the endearment always makes her happy. Turning to me, she gives a wan smile and nods.

  “Yes, fine. Just the mixed feelings of coming home.”

  I nod as though I understand, but for me there is no mix. As much as it was fun traveling with Jane, spending time in the city and on the road, I crave the comfort and familiarity of the only home I’ve ever k
nown.

  Still smiling, I skip the rest of the way down the driveway.

  Home.

  Chapter Two

  Branson

  My heart is thumping in my chest when I hear the upstairs door open. I’ve been hearing Bud moving around all day, but I don’t think that was him. I’ve gotten pretty used to his footsteps the past few years. And Jane’s steps, well, I’ve known those almost my whole life. This step is softer and holds a different cadence.

  Mia.

  Two years it’s been since I’ve seen her. I wonder if she’s thought of me as much as I’ve thought of her. It’s been hell, honestly. I hope Jane’s treated her better than Bud has me. Fury courses through my veins at the thought of Jane hurting her, but I don’t think it’s likely.

  I’ve had a lot of time to think about the whole thing and I’m sure it’s because of me she took her in the first place. She didn’t like us getting close.

  I’ll never forget the day Jane came to take her away.

  I was cleaning, and Mia was sitting around watching me. Pretty usual if Jane didn’t have anything for her to do. I can’t for the life of me remember what we were talking about, but I do remember laughing a lot.

  When Jane's steps came down the hall, we both stopped and Mia began ordering me around. Apparently, we didn’t do well enough at hiding our friendship. Jane came in, took off my chains, and put me in my room. Then she told ‘Teddy’ to say goodbye, we wouldn’t see each other for a while.

  If I had known then it would be years, maybe I would have fought back instead of sitting in my room like an asshole and waiting.

  And fuck, did I wait.

  I put down my book and listen intently, my body vibrating with excitement. I don’t know what changed, or why they’re back, but I don’t care.

  Amelia.

  After two years, I’ve decided that change, any change, is better than living like this. Other than getting me to help out with a few random chores, I’ve basically been in my room this whole time.