Realistic or Modern Elmer & Darla | Closed with coaxxie

[goodbyeskyharbor]

Working as the manager at a somewhat sketchy motel was never the future Elmer Irene McCarthy imagined for herself, but it fills her with far less dread than the one she could envision did. Here, she feels she has some sort of purpose, isn't rotting away filing papers and taking phone calls, trying to ignore how badly she'd like to bury an axe in the skull of her boss. She's fixing up this place, you see, and one day, it's going to be great. Already, people are more inclined to stay here, and already holds trivia nights, cleaned up the pool and reopened the restaurant. It's not anyone's first choice of accommodation, but it's passable, and the friendly manager helps as well. She gets involved, remembers details, and is known as a somewhat sweet face in town. Nothing strange, nothing offputting, just the way she likes it. The mask doesn't drive her insane, it simply fills in the gaps. When it slips, she can manage it. She never loses control. She knows exactly what she's doing, and for that reason, no one has been able to catch the serial killer roaming the region. She intends to keep it that way. She's not stupid.

It's not an exciting night. There's no hunt, no kill, no searching. She sits behind the desk in the front office, it open later on Friday nights, filing her nails as she looks over at the television in the corner of the room. It's tiny, and frequently stops working, but she doesn't care enough to replace it. It's not exactly for the guests - it's simply something to grab her attention on rather mundane nights like these ones. Her attention remains on the news, a staple for her, always checking on what the situation is like out there. She keeps no newspaper clippings, no trophies - she just wants to see how close they are, but she doesn't occupy the attention of the newsreaders tonight. All the attention has been taken up by a recent escape from a hospital, and she's starting to get bored. Nothing any better is on this late at night, so she elects to turn off the TV instead, left alone with the scratching of the nail file and the buzzing of the fluorescent light above her blonde head.

Things stay like that for awhile. Too long, in Elmer's eyes, but there's nothing else to do. A shadow is quick to take her attention, a noise outside soon rolling around in her skull, and she is quick to investigate. A knife is taken out of the top drawer of her desk and she rises from her seat, gripping it tightly as she heads outside. It's not a murder weapon, and she has no intention of doing anything of the sort, but she'd like to be armed all the same. Save for her own actions, this town isn't exactly crime filled, but who knows when the one in a million event will strike. She's not going to go down as a result of anyone else's actions. She'll fight to the bitter end if needed.

Elmer creeps down the car park, passing the empty vehicles of guests and heading towards the entrance, pausing when she comes across the stranger. Immediately, the knife rests by her side. She doubts that she would be able to win this fight. She doesn't go for people that are bigger than her. There's too much to lose. She'd rather try to avoid conflict, unsure if that makes her a coward. There's no thoughts of harm. Instead, she feels a little worried for the woman. Seeing someone show up alone here so late is out of the ordinary, and it strikes up some worry in her heart.

"Are you looking for a room?" Elmer asks. She does away with the knife, slipping it into the sleeve of her coat. She's really being sincere, but she reminds herself not to be too much, so used to pretending to be nice that it's hard to know where to stop when the feeling is genuine. "It's cold out here. I can take you to the front office and make you some tea - it's no hour to be wandering around."

coaxxie

 

[coaxxie]

A rusty, dilapidated teal truck carries an equally dilapidated looking young girl in it's passenger seat, her hair is matted and fried, and she is wearing clothes which seem to have been worn for eons. A knapsack rests on her thighs, with a scalpel, bandages, the uniform of a nurse, and her old shoes. The shoes which adorn her now are cleaner than anything else she owns, and are starkly white in comparison to the once-white apron that rests over her, now a dingy shade of brown which is stained with every bodily matter one could get on it, plus dirt, oil, and a brownish liquid that smells starkly of decomposing animal. The trucker continues to drive her to "wherever he's going" as per request, when the AM radio that was playing folk flickers with a newscaster. The radio-man's voice is compressed and snarky.

"Don't touch that dial while we tell the news, this stories a real hitter!"

The stocky, bearded man who is driving holds out a fat, hairy, knuckled hand and turns the volume up. Darla looks over with a blank, but happy expression, listening to the news intently.

"Police are asking for the state to be on the lookout for an escapee from the Alcott Williams hospital psych ward this evening, as a woman killed a nurse and escaped through the window. Doctors on the scene say that the suspect is around 5'9, 210 pound woman with blue eyes and brown hair. Doctors say the patient did not know her name, and had a facial deformity in the appearance of a cleft lip, and was last seen wearing a hospital gown."

Darla's face fell. They were talking about her. She shook in her seat, the kill was in self defense, they were going to do things to her, she had to, she had to, she had to. Her thoughts raced as her pale blue eyes stared into her lap.

"Now little missy- don't that sound a bit like you?" The bearded man asked, looking over at the girl.

"Police request that anyone with information contact them, suspect may be armed and dangerous, and is not right mentally. Now, with that out of the way, lets get back to your 10/5 folk tunes! This is 660 AM, and we're recording live from..."

The man didn't say anything, but he changed his path, exiting onto a different exit on the thruway. Darla recognized this, and slowly reached her hand into the bag, pulling out the scalpel and the stockings belonging to the now dead nurse. The man kept his eyes on the road, grasping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "N-Now... whatcha lookin' for?"

She silently wrapped the stocking around his neck pulling as hard as she could to asphyxiate him, and slowly but surely driving the scalpel into his chest, trying to power through the yellow, thick fat. Blood slowly began to ooze out, and his face began to turn red. He jolted the steering wheel off the highway's exit, the car crashing into the nearby forest. If the news lost her, it would find her again soon. The car crashed into the tree, causing her to crash forward. A small cut on her cheek and a bruised arm, but nothing serious. The man is still alive, but not by much. He was bleeding, and he soon asphyxiated. His body went limp, and she pulled him out of the car.

The corpse was still warm, and Darla got to work. She cut open his shirt, slicing down the center of him and removing choice parts of the man. The chest meat, heart, and flabby arms and legs would be the best form of sustenance. Her apron was now stained with new blood, covering some of the old blood and other stains. She stole the clothes from the trucker, plus his keys, money, ID, and one more thing- some of his face. She would discard it later, but she didn't want anyone to be able to identify the body, just incase. She begins to walk along the highway, stopping at a motel. The blood on her apron was barely noticeable due to the other stains, and she blankly stared at the woman. She asked her a question.

"A room?" She bit at her lip, fiddling with her stained hands. In the knapsack, she was till holding some of the flesh from the man. "O-Okay! Y-Yeah, I'll have a room. T-Thank you, m'am. You're very polite." Her eyes darted around. She hoped to God that she didn't recognize her.

Working as the manager at a somewhat sketchy motel was never the future Elmer Irene McCarthy imagined for herself, but it fills her with far less dread than the one she could envision did. Here, she feels she has some sort of purpose, isn't rotting away filing papers and taking phone calls, trying to ignore how badly she'd like to bury an axe in the skull of her boss. She's fixing up this place, you see, and one day, it's going to be great. Already, people are more inclined to stay here, and already holds trivia nights, cleaned up the pool and reopened the restaurant. It's not anyone's first choice of accommodation, but it's passable, and the friendly manager helps as well. She gets involved, remembers details, and is known as a somewhat sweet face in town. Nothing strange, nothing offputting, just the way she likes it. The mask doesn't drive her insane, it simply fills in the gaps. When it slips, she can manage it. She never loses control. She knows exactly what she's doing, and for that reason, no one has been able to catch the serial killer roaming the region. She intends to keep it that way. She's not stupid.

It's not an exciting night. There's no hunt, no kill, no searching. She sits behind the desk in the front office, it open later on Friday nights, filing her nails as she looks over at the television in the corner of the room. It's tiny, and frequently stops working, but she doesn't care enough to replace it. It's not exactly for the guests - it's simply something to grab her attention on rather mundane nights like these ones. Her attention remains on the news, a staple for her, always checking on what the situation is like out there. She keeps no newspaper clippings, no trophies - she just wants to see how close they are, but she doesn't occupy the attention of the newsreaders tonight. All the attention has been taken up by a recent escape from a hospital, and she's starting to get bored. Nothing any better is on this late at night, so she elects to turn off the TV instead, left alone with the scratching of the nail file and the buzzing of the fluorescent light above her blonde head.

Things stay like that for awhile. Too long, in Elmer's eyes, but there's nothing else to do. A shadow is quick to take her attention, a noise outside soon rolling around in her skull, and she is quick to investigate. A knife is taken out of the top drawer of her desk and she rises from her seat, gripping it tightly as she heads outside. It's not a murder weapon, and she has no intention of doing anything of the sort, but she'd like to be armed all the same. Save for her own actions, this town isn't exactly crime filled, but who knows when the one in a million event will strike. She's not going to go down as a result of anyone else's actions. She'll fight to the bitter end if needed.

Elmer creeps down the car park, passing the empty vehicles of guests and heading towards the entrance, pausing when she comes across the stranger. Immediately, the knife rests by her side. She doubts that she would be able to win this fight. She doesn't go for people that are bigger than her. There's too much to lose. She'd rather try to avoid conflict, unsure if that makes her a coward. There's no thoughts of harm. Instead, she feels a little worried for the woman. Seeing someone show up alone here so late is out of the ordinary, and it strikes up some worry in her heart.

"Are you looking for a room?" Elmer asks. She does away with the knife, slipping it into the sleeve of her coat. She's really being sincere, but she reminds herself not to be too much, so used to pretending to be nice that it's hard to know where to stop when the feeling is genuine. "It's cold out here. I can take you to the front office and make you some tea - it's no hour to be wandering around."

 

[goodbyeskyharbor]

Well, this girl certainly looks a fright, Elmer thought to herself as she studied her properly. The streetlight situated at the entrance of the motel gave her a decent look at the girl's features, but she didn't notice anything too off. At least... not in any sense of the way that involved murder. Despite that, she was sure that provoking her would end poorly, not that she wanted to. No, looking at her, Elmer was overwhelmed with the urge to protect. Despite her actions, there was a part of her that was able to love, to care. Her niece was easily the most important person in her life, but she could feel wisps of that same familial bond emerging in her heart as she looked at the other. Strange, but not too strange if she let herself think about it too much. Elmer was drawn to women in trouble. It was important for them to stick together, to care for each other, to protect. No one else would out there. They'd throw them under the bus in a moment. Just another crazy woman that had no idea what she was doing. It made her blood boil.

"No need to thank me. It's what any decent person would do," Elmer insisted, turning her back to the girl and motioning for her to follow her. She wasn't exactly decent, but this action was, she'd say. Not everyone would take in a slightly questionable looking girl that showed up at her motel in the middle of the night, but Elmer had to have some redeeming qualities. She wasn't the worst. She did nice things, just like this... and killing was just a purpose in life for her. Everyone had a purpose, right? Whether it be golfing or cooking or volunteering or doing away with questionable men and people who annoyed her. All people needed something that would get them up in the morning, and that was hers.

The motel's front office looked like it belonged to a grandma in Elmer's opinion. The lace curtains were hideous, as was the sickly floral wallpaper that was peeling away. It needed a major upgrade, but there were more pressing issues in the motel to update first. She had to get the pool cleaned up, reopen the restaurant, hire better cleaners... her office had to wait, so she tried to shove down the humiliation and get to work instead. In her eyes, this girl was in trouble and needed someone to look after her. The hospital escapee wasn't even in her mind. She'd barely been paying attention to the news, after all. They weren't talking about her, any of her crimes, so there was no point in listening.

Opening her top drawer again, Elmer discarded the knife and took out a teabag and a blue key instead, looking over at the girl. "There's a bathroom next door. You can go get yourself cleaned up as best you can while I make the tea if you want." Elmer turned again, getting the kettle ready and pulling two mugs from a cupboard. They too looked like they belonged to a grandma, but she didn't care enough about it to replace them. It kind of made the motel more homely. "Then, we can talk. You're obviously in a bit of trouble. Don' t worry - I don't run to the police. I understand. This isn't the... greatest area. I just want to make sure you aren't mixed up in anything big."

Bold of her to expect she would be told the truth - or anything at all - but it was mostly for appearances than anything. Of course, she wanted to know what on Earth had happened... but that seemed like the nicest and least invasive way to put it.

 

[coaxxie]

The large woman skipped like a child behind her, swaying her arms in a childlike fashion. She followed her into the motel's office and smiled, it reminded her of home. She breathed in the stale air, a content grin plastered on her scarred face.

The bag with the clothes, money, and flesh of the man was lugged over her back, and it sopped wet blood behind her. Darla probably wouldn't have to kill so much if she didn't carry bloody bags of meat around, but she barely saw anything wrong with it. Humans are just another animal, and have enough meat to keep people fed for longer. She didn't have a problem with eating people, but the doctor that reported her to the police after she told him the best ways to cook a human- he did.

She watched the woman take the key and the teabag, and when the key to the bathroom was placed, she scooped it up in her chubby, bloody hands. "T-Thank you, muh-mam." She said with a rushed nod, and then shaking her head. "U-Uh, I ain't mixed up in anythin'!" She said, messing with the key in her hand. "N-No need to call the c-cops, yeah?" She said with a scared smile before rushing to the bathroom to wash up, bringing the sopping bag of meat with her. She ran her hands under the cold water until the water ran clear, wiping off her bloodied face as well. She shoved a hand into the bag and ate a piece of raw flesh while she waited to come back out, before returning to the woman, standing with the bag behind her.

 

[goodbyeskyharbor]

"No. I'm not going to call the cops," Elmer said with a sigh, deciding to just let her go and keep on making the tea. Accidentally provoking someone she was unsure of, that was likely scared... and quite bloody, wasn't the greatest idea, and she had no desire to die that way.

As she made the tea, she noticed the blood on the floor, raising an eyebrow. She didn't believe for a minute that she wasn't mixed up in anything, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it to make sure that taking her in wouldn't end with herself getting into any sort of trouble. She hadn't worked so hard to get caught due to someone else's mistakes - but she'd have to work that out later. She'd bring it up, but she'd figure out how to do so in a way that wouldn't sound pushy. For now, she busied herself with making the tea, soon reminding herself to clean up the bloodstains as well. She couldn't keep them in here, have anyone getting suspicious. Luckily, she was getting rather good at cleaning blood out of things. She rarely had to clean up her own crime scenes, but sometimes, she'd get some on her clothes, and there was no use throwing out a nice shirt over a little bit of blood.

When Darla returned, Elmer did her best to smile, masking the faint worry in her eyes as she did so. She turned, bringing the tea over to the other, before going back to grab two biscuits from another drawer. They were mostly saved for guests, wanting to keep up the illusion of a nice, friendly motel owner that went above and beyond to be hospitable, but she could afford to give some away to someone else. Maybe the sweets could comfort the girl a little after the obviously rough day she had.

"Please, sit. And here - put that bag in this. You're trailing blood all over the shop," Elmer said, holding out a plastic bag to the other. After that, she sat down at her desk, studying her carefully. "Enjoy. I've done my best to be welcoming. I just... want to know more about you. It's fine if you are mixed up in something, you know. I have no desire to call the police. I just wanted to know if I should be prepared for anything. I know a woman in distress when I see one. I can protect you."

 

[coaxxie]

"Yer... Yer sure you ain't gonna call the cops...?" She said, her eyes wide. She was tall and stocky, and yet, she felt cornered and powerless. But the reassurance that the woman wasn't going to call the cops, and genuinely seemed to care for her, allowed her to rest her shoulders and take a deep breath.

"Alright, well... if you sure you ain't gonna tell, I guess I'll spill." She said, picking up the dripping bag and placing it into the plastic, trash-bag like bag, placing it to her side.

"So... I'm a runaway... ran away from my folks years ago, ain't no point in telling you why I left, so I'll spare you the details. But y'know, I get around by hitching rides. Folks ain't the nicest to me out on the road. Doin' things to me, yellin' at me, rubbin' up on me, and one day... one day, I says "I had enough!" and I killed that stupid trucker." She explained, her hands in her lap as she fiddled with them.

"And... well, I's got hungry, and he didn't have no food with him... so I... y'know..." She made a cartoonish chewing gesture, holding the bloody bag closer to her.

"And I's... I's was proud of this catch. Kept me livin' for months, salting meat does wonders when you're in the sun. So's, next time I hop in someones trunk, I tell 'em the whole story. Those bastards knocked me out cold and sent be to the hospital! An... An the people at the hospital says they was gonna put me away! So's I says to myself... I says... I gotsta do somethin'! An I did! I got that mean nurse and the mean doctor too, and I'm damn proud!" She said with a wide, toothy grin.

"But now, I'm a bit famous. 94.3, my fave station, they ain't playin' good music anymore, just playin' the cops talkin' about me! So now's the people I ride with try and take me back, and it's so annoying!" She exclaimed, resting, her story seemed to now be finished. "Yep, so that's what I'm mixed up in!"

 

[goodbyeskyharbor]

​

"No, I won't. You have my word, and you'll find that my word means a lot." That isn't always the case - not with the townspeople she feigns sweetness with and the men she picks up at the bar, but when Elmer cares, she keeps her word to the letter. What would she gain from calling the cops anyway? The last thing she wants is to just invite them in, have them poking around in her business. She can't get cocky. That's how they all fall. Besides, if the other did pose any harm to her, she's sure that she could deal with it. It would be a struggle, as she was certainly stronger than her, but she'd cracked open the skulls of people double her size once or twice when things had gotten out of hand. She hoped things wouldn't come to that. Already, she could see something in the girl.

She listened to her story penitently, legs crossed, nodding in sympathy when she recalled the story of the trucker. What a dirtbag... the world would most definitely be a better place without him in it. He was the type of victim Elmer herself would go for. The... consumption, however? That wasn't her style. Once the murder was over and done with, the last thing she wanted to do was stick around the body for longer than needed. The thrill came from killing and killing only, and she couldn't help but grimace. She'd have to do something about that. The last thing she needed was someone keeping human meat around this joint. She wanted to keep it as clean as possible at all times.

"Well... your first mistake was telling them the story. I know you must be proud of your efforts, but they don't understand. Most people will turn you in right away once they hear something like that. You're lucky you ran into someone that isn't so judgemental." Elmer did her best to keep her tone calm, as if she was giving the woman advice about something as harmless as clothes, hair and going on dates. "I'm sure that will die down soon. They'll probably assume that you skipped town, which isn't a stupid assumption to make. No one would expect an escaped hospital patient to stay around."

She looked over at Darla again and bit her lip, wondering how to propose the last bit. She didn't want to realise too late that she was making a mistake, or to potentially offend her. Anything that would cause any sort of conflict with her was undesirable. "You can lay low here, if you want... as long as you keep your... efforts away. I have a business to run, and I don't want police knocking at my door. That includes the meat." She motioned to the bag, trying to hide how weak in the stomach it made her feel. She thought she was immune to feeling nauseous around gore, but cannibalism just didn't sit with her. "We'll make you a disguse, and I'll give you a job. You just have to promise to keep any trouble away from these parts. I see something in you. You could be... my apprentice, of sorts." And she'd still be able to find victims, but that conversation would have to wait for later. She didn't want to lay out all her cards on the table this early.