Tcm - Blog Posts

That's Hoyt talking btw {Confirmed} {I was there}

So..I was listening to Ethel Cain {as always} specifically Strangers and may or may not have thought about this franchise again..whoops. Here's a complete list of Ethel Cain songs + lyrics that I feel reflect the franchise ++++ an analysis of each one ! 🫀 I'd also like to preface this by saying I understand the meanings behind each of these songs are not what is reflected in this analysis, this is simply just finding connections.

I might make this a series, who knows?

TW: SA / Rape, Strong Language, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Gore, TCM-Canon-Typical Violence / Topics, Animal Abuse?, Hoyt being Hoyt {boo lame boo, I know}

Family Tree

"I'm just a child, but I'm not above violence My mama raised me better than that When the preacher talks, that man demands his silence And daddy said, "Shoot first, then run and don't look back"

So take me down to the river And bathe me clean Put me on the back of your white horse to ride All the way to the chapel, let you wash all over me"

-

"These crosses all over my body Remind me of who I used to be And Christ, forgive these bones I've been hiding Oh, and the bones I'm about to leave, yeah"

____

Right off the bat "I'm just a child but I'm not above violence" throws me right back to the introductory credits in TCM:TB 2006. Thomas' self-harm, killing and skinning animals, all the violence he was subjected to at a young age. He was young sure, but he was willing to be violent. Not necessarily to other people, but animals. Maybe he viewed himself an animal; Something to skin and use. Following that line "My mama raised me better than that." We know the relationship between Thomas and Hoyt, but we just barely scratch the surface of Thomas and Luda Mae's relationship. I'm sure Thomas was raised to fight back, especially considering Hoyt's background.

"When the preacher talks, that man demands his silence And daddy said, "Shoot first, then run and don't look back." This is just self-explanatory. Hoyt, in this case, is 'the preacher.' He's a man who provides and dictates his family {at least that's what he thinks.} He demands silence; The family listens to him without interruption. Now, this also applies to Luda Mae. She doesn't demand silence, but she is the one who 'preaches.' Whether it be religious ideals, scoldings, or general guidance to the family. The continuation of this line reminds me of what I previously discussed: Encouraging self-defense as well as dividing yourself socially from the opposing side. In this case, it's the 'city-slickers' Hoyt preaches about.

"So take me down to the river And bathe me clean Put me on the back of your white horse to ride All the way to the chapel, let you wash all over me"

"These crosses all over my body Remind me of who I used to be And Christ, forgive these bones I've been hiding Oh, and the bones I'm about to leave, yeah"

These lyrics are just so reminiscent of the first supper scene. That scene has always come across as the family killing off who they were. Consuming the final ounce of humanity within the town and fully transforming into the killers they portray in the 2003 film. I find this to be especially prominent during this segment:

"Thanks to the good sheriff here, we ain't gonna go hungry tonight. Matter of fact, we ain't never gonna starve again." Followed by "Charlie, say grace." It seems almost as if Luda Mae is encouraging Charlie / Hoyt to 'say grace' similarly to how Ethel writes "Christ forgive these bones I've been hiding - and the bones I'm about to leave." She's asking for forgiveness not only for herself and the remaining members of the family, but especially for Charlie. The 'bones' he's been hiding are the sadistic tendencies he gained over the war. The 'bones' he {and the family} are about to leave are the carcasses of the people they once were. The kind receptionist at the community center. The mechanic. The veteran farmer. The butcher.

____

Ptolemaea

"I followed you in and I was with you there I invited you in twice, I did You love blood too much But not like I do Not like I do

Heard you, saw you, felt you, gave you Need you, love you, love you, love you"

-

"You'd do well to say yes to me"

-

"Even the iron still fears the rot Hiding from something I cannot stop Walking on shadows, I can't lead him back, uh Buckled on the floor when night comes along Daddy's left and momma won't come home, oh, uh

You poor thing Sweet, mourning lamb There's nothing you can do It's already been done

What fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me (show me your face) Please, don't look at me I can see it in your eyes, he keeps looking at me Tell me, what have you done?

Stop, stop, stop, make it stop Stop, make it stop, make it stop I've had enough"

____

This song reminds me a lot of Hoyt {for obvious reasons which we will get into} but also Thomas. This specific set: "I followed you in and - I was with you there - I invited you in twice, I did - You love blood too much - But not like I do - Not like I do" reads to me as a subconscious urge of Thomas'. His urge to destroy and abuse. To tear into and become. It's almost as if the sadistic and animalistic side of him coaxes him. This could also apply to Hoyt; How hist trauma began to whisper urges into his ears. How the sadistic desire dripped into his mind, forming puddles until it flooded. The next segment: "Heard you, saw you, felt you, gave you Need you, love you, love you, love you" - "You'd do well to say yes to me" is SO reminiscent of Hoyt. It feels like him talking to a victim. ESPECIALLY when he was talking to Bailey. "Don't you think you're gonna go any place, huh? - I love you." And his moans just felt so..selfish. So primal and inhumane. It's so reflective of the constant 'I love you"s in Ptolemaea. Such a demonic and contradictory statement that festers within the background of the song. This song continues to reflect Hoyt within the lines: "Hiding from something I cannot stop - Walking on shadows, I can't lead him back, uh - Buckled on the floor when night comes along - Daddy's left and momma won't come home, oh, uh." Each victim may try to hide from the family, but their fate is inevitable. Hiding in the shadows whilst figuratively being in the shadow of the family. By this I mean, they will never be seen as human by the family. Never considering more than a meal and a puppet of pleasure by their captures. Their humanity consistently overshadowed by the family's primal hunger. "Buckled to the floor as night comes along - Daddy's left and momma won't come home" Essentially reads as being trapped in the rotten walls of the house. No one is there to help you, no one there to comfort you. It also describes the physical conditions: Being buckled to the table in the basement, hung on a meathook, tied to the chairs, wrapped to a bedpost, ect.

"You poor thing - Sweet, mourning lamb - There's nothing you can do - It's already been done." This segment just reminds me of Luda Mae, Kathy / The Tea Lady, and Henrietta. The three women of the household seem to be the only ones attempting to cover-up their malice with maternal reassurance and comfort. It's not like they care about the victims, at least not anymore. All they care about is the family. All they can trust is the family.

"What fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me (show me your face) - Please, don't look at me - I can see it in your eyes, he keeps looking at me - Tell me, what have you done?" You cannot TELL ME that listening to Ethel sing "Tell me, what have you done?" Doesn't slightly sound like "Tommy, what have you done?" It's at 3:32 in the song, please someone tell me they hear it too 😭. Anyway, this entire segment feels like an outside perspective of how terrified the victims {and people in general} are of Thomas. I'm sure even Luda Mae was terrified and just extremely worried when she found Thomas mutilating himself {which is where the "Tell me, what have you done?" and "Show me your face" comes in.}

"What fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me" Is also just, EXTREMELY reminiscent of Hoyt. Cmon now. As well as the repeated "Stop", "Make it stop", "I've had enough."

____

Gibson Girl

Speaking of Hoyt; Gibson Girl. That's it. That's the post. Nah I'm kidding but hear me out:

"Says he's in love with my body, that's why he's fucking it up And then he says to me

"Baby, if it feels good, then it can't be bad" Where I can be immoral in a stranger's lap And if you want it good, downright iconic Something they all want that only you can have

You wanna fuck me right now You wanna see me on my knees You wanna rip these clothes off And hurt me

And if you hate me Please don't tell me Just let the lights bleed All over me"

____

You COULD NOT convince me this song doesn't reflect Hoyt. ESPECIALLY "Says he's in love with my body, that's why he's fucking it up - Baby, if it feels good, then it can't be bad." Cmon now. He doesn't seem to want his female victims to be dead, but his behavior often results in extreme injury. Specifically gynecologic bleeding / tearing, bruising, cuts, ect. So he really is "fucking up" their bodies. {If you're experiencing sexual abuse of any kind, contact RAINN or the local authorities.}

____

Strangers

"I tried to be good, am I no good? Am I no good? Am I no good? With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence (oh, oh)

I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours? Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick (sick)"

____

Alright, let's just state the obvious: This is Thomas' subconscious. At least how I interpret it. He craves praise, he needs it. And I'm not taking about "you're so good to me; You did so good, ect." I mean reassuring him he's not just a destructive brute. Praising his strength, giving him patience and space when it's needed. Providing and acknowledging opportunities where he can do more than just butcher. Providing new ways to communicate whilst trying to understand his current communication skills. Reassuring him that he doesn't make you feel sick. Understanding that his hygiene is poor for a few reasons {I.E; Depression, exhaustion, fear of looking at himself, disgusts, ect.} and not shaming him but simply encouraging self-care. Praise his accomplishments, even small ones. Reassure him that he doesn't scare you; That his physical state isn't revolting. And especially that he's worthy of love, that he won't be abandoned; "Can I be yours - Just tell me I'm yours." This is the type of praise Thomas needs. Something that helps him grow as a person whilst fulfilling his needs. He needs specifics, and genuine interest in what he's doing. But remember, give him space :) We all need it. Getting into specifics within the lyrics:

"I tried to be good, am I no good? Am I no good? Am I no good? With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence (oh, oh)"

This reminds me of when Thomas burnt and destroyed his childhood pictures. To his family, those are memories of him, his childhood, their time spent together. To Thomas, those are his childhood. The childhood that was full of ridicule, disgust, trauma. I doubt he wants to remember that; Hell, I don't remember some of the things that happened to me as a kid because they were traumatic and upsetting. The memories of pain aren't usually remembered by the perpetrator. The only recollection of Thomas' insulting memories are "restricted to a polaroid in evidence." The memories that made him doubt himself.

____

Inbred

I did my analysis on Inbred here :)

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Onanist

Listen..I know this song is about masturbation; I just think some of the lyrics OUT OF CONTEXT could fit a narrative found in TCM. Hear me out PLEASE

"Witness to such agony but there, - before the grace of god go I - I want to know love - I want to know what it feels like"

"it feels good "

"it feels good"

"it feels good"

"it feels good"

____

Okay..this may seem way out in left field but this almost reads to me {In the context of TCM} like a semi-sexual experience for Thomas. LISTEN. Just hear me out. I know the masks are a way for Thomas to hide himself, to present as someone else; I just can't help but imagine how intense putting on his first human mask felt. I know it just looks like a normal day for him in the scene, but I just have this inkling that this felt so intense for Thomas. I've discussed Thomas' sexuality before in this post, just for extra details. Sometimes experiences that aren't inherently sexual feel sexual, y'know? Just this intense build-up that feels pleasurable once it climaxes. Thomas had finally found his craft. This feeling of intense accomplishment. Almost an 'a-hah' moment. It was the first time Thomas could fully take on the appearance of another person; Truly transform himself into an 'alternative mind' if you will. He's still him, obviously. I don't think he 'transitions' between persona's like Bubba Sawyer does, but I still think his masks are influenced by how he wants to navigate the moment. During such an intense moment of agony, Thomas found himself in the grotesque. His image stitched into the face of another. There was no longer an 'Eric', only Thomas. Eric was 'consumed' by Thomas, if you will. Both literally and figuratively {assuming the family ate Eric's body afterward.} Idk, I could be talking out my ass rn but for some reason I could imagine this being mentally stimulating in the same way sex is {for him.} Definitely a source of pleasure, maybe just a form of catharsis.

____

It feels good.

It feels good.

Does it not?🫀{GOD THE WAY HIS BICEPS LOOK IN THIS RAFGHFHAH}

watching TCM:TB 2006 without the video and all the scenes with Eric and Thomas sound like gay porn - I legit had to double-check what I was watching

Half-Cocked {WIP} Snippet / Synopsis

No, the title is not a sex-pun {but it could be}

TW: SA/Rape, Groping, Extreme Language, TCM-Canon-Typical Violence, Gore, Period-Typical Racism + Sexism {No slurs}

Here's a snippet of the fic I'm working on. This is essentially a draft so feedback is completely fine! I have no idea how this will go nor when it will be done, I do apologize. Reader is gender-neutral + race-neutral. {THIS IS NOT THE FULL THING; Will most likely be heavily altered once the final product is published} 🫀

____

Not much was left of that forgotten town. The funding was gone, as were the people. After the meat plant shut down, residents lost their purpose in Fuller. It was a shadow of the life previously flourishing there - something only the wildlife could frolic in; Which is exactly why you were here. Miguel, a childhood best friend of yours, wanted to enlist near Dallas. He’d brought you and some mutual friends along promising tickets to a music festival, which you had accepted on the means of exploring the state. It had seemed ideal then but the overwhelming heat of the Texas sun proved otherwise. As you leaned your head on the window; August, who had been sitting in the passenger seat, began to mumble - Something about “needing to fix the air conditioner.” He always was one to complain; Miguel often joked about his ‘particularness’, saying he was a primma-donna at times. Though, he wasn’t too annoying; Not today anyway. A sweet guy with a kind smile, a bit too kind at times. Theia, Miguel’s sister - and mutual friend of yours, had her hair entangled in the wind with her head out the back-passenger window; Flowing in deep curls and coils. 

Driving through the backroads wasn’t too entertaining, requesting a scenic route didn’t make it any better either. You fussed with the lace of your shoe - bending and untying, bending, untying, bending, untyi- 

“Hello, did you hear us?” 

You quickly turned your head, releasing the worn laces from your hands. You felt a small tap on your bicep - It was Edith. Edith was a classmate-turned-girlfriend of August’s, one of Miguel’s friends. She was nice, just a bit impatient, which had been amplified by the unforgivable heat. 

“We’re gonna stop at a gas station in about 3 miles, okay?” 

“Yeah..that’s fine. I needed a break anyway.” You said; Your legs had been feeling a bit numb from the lack of use. Sure would be nice to get your blood flowing. And Lord, did it do just that.

__

It had been hours since that drive; Since you’d made it to the community center; Since you’d felt safe. August was long gone; last you saw of him was his spotted blood-trail leading to the basement. The harsh screeching of that steel door sliding open, paired with the hiss of August’s nails as he dug them deep into the walls, attempting to prolong the inevitable torture. Edith; Dearest Edith. Her throat hoarse as she wailed, bleeding through the walls of the decaying house. Miguel, sweet Miguel. He was tied down the chair beside you, half-conscious. Dried blood painted his right temple, flowing down from the gash which plagued his hairline. His lips looked so mundane, as did his usually deep complexion. His head was tilted towards you, clouded eyes staring weakly. As your head lay defeatedly against the crest rail, the beaded eyes of a deer - long dead, glared. It scowled at the two of you from its head bust, nailed to the middle wall. Below it, two windows and a thin table dressed with picture frames and a cloth suffocated by years of dust and dirt. As you tried to think clearly, a pair of footsteps stuttered behind the walls. Strong and angered footsteps pounded the withered wooden floors, followed by frantic and unsteady ones. The sheriff - pseudo-sheriff - forced Theia into the dining room, her wails of protest filling the already claustrophobic atmosphere. As he threw her into the chair opposite of Miguel, another set of footsteps followed in. The ‘barbaric, chainsaw-wielding psycho,’ as Edith had called him, approached Theia. His swole hands took the rope from the sheriff’s aged ones, binding Theia’s wrists and ankles to the chair limbs. 

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” The sheriff taunted, his perverted eyes traveling down her form. “I tend to prefer blondes but, hell, I know a pretty thing when I see one.” 

The sheriff cupped Theia’s shoulders as he forced his lips upon her head. His lecherous movements didn’t go unnoticed by anyone; Especially not Miguel. Even in his weakened state, he spat at the sheriff, his eyes filled with contempt.

“Get the fuck off her, you fucking whore!” He screamed - The sheriff immediately turned to Miguel, his eyes filled with slight shock. That shock was quickly overturned by indignation. 

“Now who put you the fuck incharge?” He mockingly questioned as he walked over to Miguel, grabbing his hair and shoving his head into the table; “Last time I checked, this badge is the authority around here. I make the demands; I challenge the rules, not candy-ass hippie soy-boys like you.” The sheriff retorted as he let go of Miguel’s head, leaning his arms against the crest rail; “Get a grip on yourself, son; This shit don’t fly in out here, you got that?”

Miguel was now barely breathing, his eyes were glossed over and almost completely closed. 

It hurt so much to see him fade. The light which was once rampant within him had disappeared. He weakly opened his eyes, their lids fluttering under the warm lights. You thought maybe he had gained the strength for something. Just do something. But he couldn’t. His eyes inevitably shut again as he steadied his breathing. 

“Goddamn it..” You defeatedly whined. Your wrists struggled between the rope as it dug into your already stripped skin. 

The brutish butcher had been standing in the corner of the room; Observing. He didn’t seem enthusiastic or encouraging of the matter; Rather - dissociated. His hands grasped onto the strings of his apron, bending and untying, bending, untying; Just as you had earlier. It was an intricate silence between the five of you; The sheriff had already gone back to leeching off Theia, and you couldn’t bear to look. Soon enough, the elderly woman from the community center presented a covered pot amongst the few of you; Placing it down on the aged lace that blanketed the old wooden table. 

“Tommy, set the table for us, dear.” She said as she looked over towards Theia and the sheriff. “And you, give her some room! Don’t want to spoil dinner with your whirlwind of trouble.” 

The sheriff lightly scoffed, but left Theia to rest. He stood behind ‘his’ chair at the head of the table, opposite to you. He mumbled a soft “No need for bellyachin’..” before adjusting his back. 

As ‘Tommy’ returned with the plates, an elderly man appeared behind him. He approached the empty spot at the table and positioned his wheelchair accordingly; His expression often seemed dull and exhausted - That is until he saw a woman he fancied. His smug and slimy eyes would wander up and down as his body heat heightened. It was revolting. Luckily, he had no interest in Theia - he had voiced that many times. 

“Where’d you put that other one? The blonde.” He impatiently asked. The sheriff scoffed in reply, turning his head unamused. 

“In my room, that’s where. Ain’t none of your concern, now is it?”

“What? But you have that one right over there! You know I don’t like ‘em like that-” Monty protested, only to be cut off.

“Watch your mouths! I will not have any fighting at this table, do you understand me?” Luda Mae declared. She wasn’t one for unnecessary confrontation; Especially not over ‘ungodly’ topics such as these. 

Both of them rolled their eyes, parting ways as they sat back. Thomas was sitting beside Theia, though he seemed uncomfortable. He kept staring between you and Miguel, only looking away during conversation. You were terrified to say the least; How could you not be? Your friends, your only support system, murdered in front of you. And now you’re forced to eat with the perpetrators? Tears you didn’t recognize fell from your eyes - mixing with blood and dirt to create a streaky film over your cheeks and neck. You tried to control your breathing, attempting to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this. Nothing. You hopelessly looked around the room, gravitating towards Thomas. He was still staring at you. Though his body language portrayed his enervation; His muted blue eyes looked consistently curious, and crazed. The staring continued for some time until the sheriff - Hoyt, interrupted:

“Bow your heads - Let's give thanks for the bounty that's been given us.”

___

This is so ass I'm sorry lmao {Again, NOT THE FINISHED PRODUCT} :)

I hate you I hate you I hate you TCM 2003. I rewatched it whilst working on the very small fanfic and I got to the scene at 1:17:40 - 1:18:30 before tweakin out. What do you MEAN Thomas DROPS the chainsaw and Morgan didn't think to pick it up?? And when Erin finally gets up, SHE DOESN'T PICK IT UP EITHER?? SHE JSUT HITS HIM?? HE NUDGES HER ONCE AND SHE FLIES ACROSS THE ROOM?? THOMAS WASN'T EVEN GIVING HIS ALL, BRO HAD ALL ODDS AGAINST HIM BUT STILL WON FROM FUCKING PLOT ARMOR {Thank god, I didn't want him to die but Jesus fucking Christ STAND UPPP}

I gotta chill out. But like seriously, there are so many instances in horror movies that make me so mad; STAND UP PLEASE

Yap yap yap yap blah blah blah blah more Thomas Hewitt emotional stuff

My favorite GIF of him oml so handsome

_____

Just saw a post talking about how Thomas probably never had any friends {hit very close to home}, which got me thinking about just how intensely that affected him. Humans require connections, it's essential to our survival and overall wellbeing. Thomas' main influence is his family; And let's be honest, his family isn't all that great at fostering a healthy environment. I don't blame them, I doubt they were raised any better.

Thomas already seems like a closed-off, reserved, and anxious person. His anxiety seems to manifest in small fidgets, excessive staring, zoning out{?}, aggression, and isolation. This paired with his skin condition, facial deformity, and difficulty speaking would make socializing extremely difficult for him. I doubt many people attempted to socialize with Thomas. He was probably that one kid in class who sat by themselves and never spoke up. {I used to be that kid, totally not projecting or anything..} It's fair to assume this stunted some social growth for him, and I doubt being seen as an outcast is any good for your confidence. Confidence isn't just necessary for presenting yourself comfortably, it's also essential for expressing your thoughts, emotions, and boundaries. Putting yourself out there, achieving goals and milestones.

This would most definitely bleed into his relationships {of any kind really, romantic, sexual, platonic, family.} He would not express his emotions to you. Not easily anyway. Want a man who communicates properly despite language / ability barriers? Not gonna happen. Thomas would most likely shut you out. Shut anyone out just to protect himself from further emotional pain. I doubt the Hewitt family puts any emphasis on healthy communication anyway. And Thomas doesn't have experience to model a healthy partner. I'm sure he's an affectionate person, just not by default. ESPECIALLY not during the 2003 timeline. His confidence has grown, sure, but his family has gotten even more socially isolated, making social cues less likely to be processed properly. Another thing, {which connects to the previous statement,} Thomas doesn't fully understand social cues. Not much anyway. {I've discussed this so much, I apologize for the repetition.} He's an observant, quick learner, but that doesn't mean his brain computes certain things {am I projecting? Maybe}. I don't think he'd understand that staring at someone whilst they eat isn't appropriate {to most people}; He'd probably stare into people's car windows from afar, watch people from other rooms/windows/doorways, ect. Now, that doesn't mean Thomas is a nosey guy; Because I don't think he is. He knows not to eavesdrop, and he knows when to mind his business. I think it's more of "I'm zoned out / I'm confused and trying to figure you out" type of staring.

I'm sure Thomas understands boundaries.....the family’s boundaries that is. Hoyt disrespects boundaries all the time; But Luda Mae puts him in his place when {she feels} need be. Monty just flat-out refuses to acknowledge boundaries. That guy is arguably worse than Hoyt; He'd be offending like Hoyt does if he still had legs, I'm sure of it. He's just not as vocally aggressive as Hoyt, but I'm getting off-track here. It seems like Thomas has to respect the family's boundaries, but they don't have to respect his. Nor do I think he understands how to set up boundaries. It's kind of an unspoken rule in the Hewitt household that the basement is Thomas' space. No one goes down there without reason. That's probably the only boundary they respect. {I'm sure Luda Mae gives him space and patience though.} Combining his lack of knowledge / experience with boundaries, his excruciatingly-low confidence, and his social alienation, Thomas would be very, very hesitant towards intimacy. Having to not only be physically exposed {which is such a sore subject for him,} but emotionally?? Mentally?? That's not something he's used to nor ever been encouraged to embrace. I doubt Thomas even understands sex on an emotional level. {What seems to be} His only experience with sex is through his uncles; And maybe Luda Mae's "no intimacy before marriage" lectures. And you KNOW how Monty and Hoyt view sex. There's no intimacy there; It's just the primal, selfish urges. Now, I'm sure deep down those two want genuine intimacy and emotional connection; They've just buried it so deep down to resist being seen as 'weak'. Thomas most likely picked up on this, at least some of it, which has influenced his views on intimacy. He'd really have to trust someone on EVERY level; He also might cry after, idk. OR feel very uncomfortable. Probably have a moment of existentialism and some serious rethinking to do. Not necessarily about the act itself, but how he views it and what he's been taught. To add onto his hesitance: I see a lot of fan fiction involving him and the reader getting married within 1-5 months, which just..doesn't seem too realistic to me. Thomas most definitely has a lot of self-doubt, and the family wouldn't adjust to someone that quickly. I'd say AT LEAST a year before they {the family} consider it. Anyway..this is long enough but I'm fully willing to do pt. 2 on anything I've covered before :)

TLDR: Thomas would definitely need some guidance, the whole Atlantic Ocean's worth of reassurance, and some lessons on boundaries.

____

Anyway, yada-yada, Thomas needs some guidance and emotional regulation tools, what's new - 🫀

I'll go back to serious posts tomorrow I swear 😭

The Hewitt Family Tree {Potentially Canon?}

So..it's very obvious that the Hewitt family tree is..more than complicated. The ages and the relations between the seven members can be perplexing. I attempted to be as canon as possible, but there's always room for criticism and changes :)

Here's an *attempt* at a family tree {Click for better quality, I do apologize.}.

Luda Mae, Montgomery, and Katherine are the children of an unknown woman and Charles 'Charlie' Hewitt. Charles 'Charlie' Hewitt Jr. {Hoyt}, is the child of Luda Mae and Charles Hewitt {nonconsensual}. Thomas is the child of Sloane {factory worker} and an unknown father. Henrietta is the child of Katherine and an unknown father. Jedidiah's origins are unknown; But he is the grandson of Luda Mae Hewitt.

Luda Mae appears to be the eldest; Marietta Marich, the actress which portrayed Luda Mae, was quoted saying "Whenever I do a part, I like to get into the character — just become the character — and make her as real as possible. So I figured Luda Mae was dirt poor and probably one of four or five kids, and the oldest, so she's like the momma." According to the official Texas Chainsaw Massacre Wiki on Fandom, Monty is around 70 years old, born in 1903; Making him 66 in the 2006 prequel, and 70 in the 2003 remake. On Hoyt's wiki page, he was born in 1914; Making him 55 in the 2006 prequel, and 59 at the time of his death during the 2003 remake. The Tea Lady, dubbed 'Kathy', has no official age or date of birth, but many speculate {based on her appearance as well as her actor, Kathy Lamkin,} that she is in her late-forties to mid-fifties. Henrietta also does not have an official age nor date of birth; Many speculate {based on her appearance as well as her actor, Heather Kafka,} that she is in her early-to-mid-thirties. Jedidiah's wiki page reveals no age nor date of birth, but speculates he was born in the late 1960's, making him around 5-9 years old. David Dorfman, the actor that portrayed Jedidiah, was 10 at the time of filming the 2003 remake. Thomas was born in August of 1939; Making him 30 during the 2006 prequel, and 34 at the time of the 2003 remake.

Hope this clears things up for some!

Much love, 🫀

Disgusting shitposting autism moment

All gross disgusting revolting images made by me {thank you Picsart} Throw up on me Thomas /J

Every time I listen to Inbred by Ethel Cain I think of TCM; Specially the 2003/2006 franchise but I guess the others work just as well. Especially:

"You get off on innocence, so you savor this Does your baby know her daddy's a rapist? He hates the way you look at me You're already dead, you're already dead

If he wakes up, he'll show you what I'm talking about

You can't win 'em all Who knows how much longer I'll lay on the floor? Touch me 'til I vomit I'm not scared of God, I'm scared he was gone all along (oh, oh)

Who will take the fall? Who of us is stronger? You'll just want it more If you could, you'd have fought it, but you know you're not From the start, they knew you were wrong, you were wrong"

____

IS THIS NOT TCM?? HELLO?? DOES THIS NOT AUTOMATICALLY REMIND YOU OF HOYT AND THOMAS??

The section mentioned above really really reminds me of Hoyt. The line "If he wakes up, he'll show you what I'm talking about" reminds me of the distinction of Hoyt versus Charlie. @demphen hints at this in their fic, Darkest Hour {which is phenomenal, it's a good read🫀,} Hoyt and Charlie are almost two "entities" living in one vessel. Charlie's vessel. I like to think Charlie was permanently altered after the war; As would anyone after experiencing such trauma. I think the town dying, Thomas losing his job, and killing the sheriff was what finally did it. What finally "killed" Charlie. Charlie was hanging by a thread; clawing at the shell which once was his, desperately trying to restore the lifeline only to be shut out and 'killed' once the sheriff was too. The one thing keeping the town inline; Keeping Charlie inline, was gone. Hoyt realized {and maybe always knew} that the "protectors" never cared about his family. Back to how this relates to the Inbred lyrics; It almost feels like Hoyt waking up within Charlie. Charlie is in there, we can see "him" when he talks to the family. But as soon as things go rogue, Hoyt 'awakens.' If he = Hoyt; Wakes up, he'll show you what I'm talking about = someone gets hurt. This is LITERALLY like the hitchhiker scene in the 2003 remake !! "He's a bad man, he's a really bad man -- you're all gonna die."

This song also reminds me of Thomas; Specifically:

"Older brother made a name for himself with the cops Scumbag fuck, but I swear that he's not He's so good to me and to nobody else So you should watch yourself

Mama's comatose, she can't leave the bed Something smells rotten and it starting to spread I'm bad, he's worse, we're already dead We're already dead"

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"Older brother made a name for himself with the cops - Scumbag fuck but I swear that he's not" reminds me of Hoyt and Thomas' relationship. For one, Hoyt not only "became" part of law enforcement, he was a POW. Now, a POW is not someone who gets "involved with the cops" per se, but he did get involved in serious warfare which for some reason reminds me of this line. The following line "Scumbag fuck but I swear that he's not" reminds me of the intense family pride. I think Thomas knows Hoyt is a bad person. Hell, aren't they all? But at the same time he loves his family; They're all he has. Continuing with this narrative; "He's so good to me, and to nobody else - So you should watch yourself." We know Hoyt cares for Thomas, but he's definitely 'tough-love' and judgmental. So this line reminds me of them more because of the essence: He treats us {the family} well, no one else gets that privilege. Watch yourself :)

Now, the line "Mama's comatose, she can't leave the bed" reminds me of Monty, as opposed to Luda Mae. Monty really can't do anything anymore. He used to help tow the victim's cars and help with mechanic repair; But he obviously can't do that now. So it's more the essence of the line as opposed to the line itself. Following up with "Something smells rotten and it's starting to spread" has always reminded me of Thomas' skin condition. His condition caused his skin to rot to such an extreme that he amputated his nose. His condition obviously spread throughout his face, causing him to cover it fully. I guess the anxiety of "it's starting to spread" reminded me of Thomas in a way. How anxious he must've felt seeing his condition worsen over time; Taking more and more of him until it's all he was. His one defining feature.

"I'm bad, he's worse, we're already dead - We're already dead"

We're already dead.

"Anyway, staying around this town, there's no more jobs, no more money, no more food. It's down right suicidal."

We're already dead.

"You can't have a creature like that around normal folk, that's what I'm saying."

I'm bad, he's worse, we're already dead.

"People may not remember what we say here tonight, but they sure as shit gonna remember what we do. Thanks to the good sheriff here...We ain't gonna go hungry tonight. Matter of fact, we ain't never gonna starve again."

Is Thomas {Hewitt} Neurodivergent?

TW: Discussions of mental health, TCM-Canon-activities

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I’ve headcanoned Thomas as neurodivergent, specifically with high-function/low-support needs autism {What would’ve  previously been diagnosed as Asperger’s} for quite some time now, which I brought up in a previous post. As someone who’s autistic, being diagnosed late gave me..mixed feelings. On one hand, I’m glad I was diagnosed. On the other; Feeling so isolated socially, being overwhelmed and “trapped” in my head without knowing why, and being so aggravated / anxious all the time made me feel like something was wrong with me. I literally imagined myself as a druid, elf, siren, and even an alien at times because I felt so ‘inhuman.’ I imagine Thomas felt and still feels this way, too. I mean, the most he was diagnosed with was ‘mental deterioration’, which for the time period, makes sense. Mental deterioration is often described as loss in memory, changes in mood, decline in intellectual functioning, social isolation, changes in thought, difficulty perceiving things, and so forth. Considering Thomas doesn’t speak, is very reserved, very much ‘in his own world’, and has had violent / destructive tendencies since a young age, the diagnosis makes sense. For the time period. First of all, Thomas has a very cluttered and inconsistent family life. Having a family member in the military is no easy trip; It takes a lot of mental energy to keep yourself together when they leave {coming from someone who’s father is in the military.} I spent a little under half my life without my dad, Thomas only spent a year without Charlie/Hoyt, but the impact is still there. Second of all, Thomas was and still is intensely ridiculed socially. The childhood pictures of people covering his face? He’s basically been told he needs to ‘cover it up’ his entire life. The only time we get to see his face {besides his reveal} is the pictures at Henrietta and ‘Kathy’s’ trailer. Even then, his face isn’t shown in that, you have to look it up. 

___

The ridicule most definitely caused image/confidence issues, as well as some social anxiety. I tend to get aggressive when I’m anxious {prior to my Lord and savior prozac}, which I think could be the case with Thomas. He can control himself, sure, but he still gets overstimulated. Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem to get overstimulated from loud noises and textures; But maybe those things bring him comfort. He’s very attentive with an almost heightened sense of hearing, which is surprising considering he basically breathes through his chainsaw. Especially at around 1:17:7-8 in the 2003 film. Bro whipped his head around so fast once he heard those rats. He does seem to shy away from touch, unless it's a necessity or something he initiates. This is incredibly clear at 1:09:15 during The Beginning 2006; When he comes in to amputate Monty’s legs with his new mask. When Luda Mae tries to touch him / his mask, he just..stares down and adjusts his jaw. He doesn’t lean in, he doesn’t acknowledge anyone; Just zones out almost. He’s there to get a job done, not to talk. I think this is a form of self-regulation for him: Just focus on what needs to get done, then we can go back to the basement. Speaking of the basement, I think that’s his preferred space. It’s the one place {besides his bedroom / sewing room} that feels like his. No one else comes down there, spare the victims which he brings, and Hoyt on occasion. Even then, it’s short and to the point; Hoyt’s a busy man, he doesn’t linger too long. Thomas gets to let loose and be violent. It’s like as soon as he opens that steel door, the mask drops {pun intended.} He gets to create, he gets to be violent; There’s no expectations for him. In the 2003 remake, he’s listening to the radio with a HEAD ON A PLATTER as well as bottled eyeballs, sets of teeth, jars of petrolatum, and all his little machinery n’ trinkets; He’s just working away with some metal music playing and his collectables sprawled out without a care in the world. That’s his space; His “safe room” if you will. And his sewing machine up in {what is believed to be} his room. 

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Going back to his ‘social awkwardness / social isolation,’ Thomas likes to stare. Like, a lot. There's multiple shots in the 2003 remake {34:15-34:23, 34:55, 43:02, 1:11:49, ect} where he’s just..staring / observing. And that’s JUST in 2003. Obviously, he’s trying to see what Erin and other victims are doing, but he’s definitely hyper-aware of things. I brought this up in a previous post, and I’m bringing it up again; in the extended scene in part 2 {0:00 - 0:30}, where Bailey is tied under the table and starts screaming once she sees Thomas just..staring at her from the doorway. He’s doing what’s called ‘T-rex arms’ as well as fidgeting with his fingers which might be a form of self-regulation; ‘Cause lets be honest, he just got introduced to this new ‘way of life’ the previous night. He also just lost his job and killed someone the previous day. He’s a little new to this. #firstkillkindanervous

I think Thomas doesn’t understand, or maybe just doesn’t care / notice he’s doing it. Staring can be very intimate for people, and I guess Thomas is just a curious and cautious fella. And I get why, gotta make sure the family is okay, and nothing goes wrong. Anyway - I also previously discussed how Thomas could have Apraxia of Speech; Which if you didn’t know, is often found in autistic children. It usually progresses with speech therapy, but Thomas very obviously didn’t have that. Expenses + time period and rural areas don’t usually produce good outcomes for neurodivergent kids anyway. 

To wrap things up; I definitely think Thomas is neurodivergent. Even if he doesn’t have Autism, Apraxia of Speech is considered neurodivergent. I still firmly believe he has Autism {Level 1?}, but I’m always open to feedback and alternative ideas!

Much love, 🫀

More TCM 2003/2006 Analysis because why not

TW: Yapping; Rape/Sa, Groping, Strong language, Gore, TCM-Canon-typical Violence

So I recently found deleted / extended scenes {Part 1 / Part 2 of 2006, 2003} which gave me more inspiration to write again! Analysis time 😈

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I first want to talk about the most forgotten member of the Hewitt family: Jedidiah. Poor sweet little Jedidiah, probably the most underrated and least-considered member of the Hewitt ‘clan’. From the clips shown in the video and the movie itself, we can infer that Jedidiah is left alone quite often. He’s also very aware of what goes on both in and outside the walls. Either the family doesn’t try to hide it from him or they’re doing a shit job at it. Even then, it’s kinda hard to hide things from independent children anyway. Jedidiah’s a very empathetic and artistic child who understands the Hewitt family values. I.E; the scene where he helps Erin and Morgan escape. Especially when he goes:

“Don’t hurt her! Please, Grandma!” - 2003, 1:06:48 

He looks so defeated after..poor baby. 

At around 1:12:40 when he’s urgently trying to get Erin and Morgan out of the basement via the tornado shelter exit {I think that’s what the structure is?}

“Go - Go now! Run! Faster, hurry! - Come on, don’t let him get you!”

“Go! I’ll be fine!” - 2003, 1:12:45 - 1:14:05 

And when he tries to bite Thomas’ hand to hold him back?? Poor baby. I’d also like to acknowledge how Thomas didn’t get physical with him , simply just shoved him off his hand and onto the sandbag. In the deleted scenes for 2003, he seems much happier when he gets to show Pepper his drawings; It seems he really needs attention that he isn’t getting at home. Maybe this is similar to how Thomas was raised, though I'm not sure. This is even more apparent when he says “You sure you’re not just saying that?” after Pepper compliments his drawing. He very clearly needs a form of guidance and support; Not only for his development but for his confidence. As I discussed in a previous post, Thomas also really enjoys praise, which he gets mainly from Hoyt. Speaking of Hoyt, there’s two possibilities {that I’ve come up with} for how Jedidiah came to be. 1.) Jedidiah is the product of rape, most likely the child of Hoyt and a victim. 2.) They ‘adopted’ him from a victim or some similar situation. Not much evidence as to his origins, but we can theorize. 

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Moving on to Hoyt; the ‘head’ of the family. In the extended scenes for The Beginning 2006, we get to see an even more aggressive and short-fused side of Hoyt. He yells more often, he’s more violent, and he’s definitely more ‘hands-on’....yay for us. At around 3:20 in this video, as he’s going to ‘attend’ to Bailey’s injuries, he discreetly gropes her, specifically groping her breast whilst repeating ‘I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Yeah, okay, pal.  And then he LICKS THE GLASS HE JUST PULLED OUT OF HER?? He also really doesn’t like the victims; Like. At all. He’s definitely lustful over Bailey, but he doesn’t like how ‘smart’ she gets at times. I.E; “Is having a dead biker chick ride shotgun proper police procedure, sir?” Now, in this video we get to see the more hostile version of Hoyt. Imagine his regular persona x2. At around 0:45 he pulls Dean’s head up by his hair and starts yelling is his face;

“You fucking idiot! I just told you we had to eat! Ain’t you listening to me?” 

This tells us two things: One, Hoyt really doesn’t like when his authority is challenged via questions, lack of interest, or defiance. Two, he really doesn’t like talking about his time in the war. It’s a traumatic near-death experience which is definitely a soft spot for him. I doubt having to dwell on it, much less repeat it over and over again to someone he already hates is easy. Following that tangent, he quickly switches to his condescending ‘I’m just trying to help’ bullshit. Specifically at 1:09;

“Now what happens if you kids drive all the way up to Austin just to find out that you don’t even qualify to be in the Army? I’m concerned about your physical fitness here.”

I’ve also noticed that Hoyt gets real up-close n’ personal when he’s being condescending. Connect this with the moment he ties up and chokes Bailey; We can see Hoyt really likes showing not only his mental dominance, but his physical as well. Now, Hoyt is 6 feet, that’s tall. Compared to Thomas? That’s 5 inches shorter, and at maybe half or ⅗ of the weight. {I headcanon Thomas at around 330/320.} Hoyt sure as hell feels intimidated by Thomas physically. Mentally? Nah, probably not. He knows he could manipulate Thomas one way or another. 

Now; I’d like to focus on how Hoyt treats the family. He rarely if ever gets fussy with them to the extent of the victims. In the 2006 deleted scenes, at around 5:54 - 6:20, Hoyt never yells at Luda Mae and corrects himself when she scolds him. As she raises her voice, he gets fed up but never yells, only says;

“God damnit, Momma, let me handle this.”

He’s stressed, she’s most definitely stressed, and he feels the need to control everything to manage it. His speech at 2:01 of the 2006 extended scenes part 1 is very loving coming from him. He’s trying to reassure his family that everything will be fine whilst also shit-talking the ‘enemy;’ Further isolating them from civilization which they’ve only known to be a negative. He also calmly tries coaxing / ordering Thomas in for supper as opposed to yelling at him. He definitely switches between Hoyt and Charlie around his family; Even though he keeps Hoyt as the ‘default’ to remain in power {which is his source of comfort}, he lets Charlie slip through when it’s needed. 

____

Now for everyone’s favorite big boy; Thomas <3. The extended scene in part 2 {0:00 - 0:30} when Bailey see’s him and just starts screaming {rightfully so, she’s terrified}. Thomas is just standing there, fidgeting with his hands like 🤨/😐 - I know bro was reliving some school / work trauma. Seeing him fidget and doing what’s called ‘T-rex arms’ makes me think he’s neurodivergent. Obviously that’s not the only thing, I’ve been thinking he’s autistic specifically for a while now {Me pushing my autism onto a character} but it fits, no? {Maybe I'll do a post talking about his neurodivergence, idk} And he looks so overwhelmed during the dinner / Hoyt’s speech scene {In the extended scenes part 1.} OH! And ESPECIALLY when Hoyt brings him down to the basement at 37:40 in The Beginning 2006. He looks so overwhelmed and possibly terrified? When you brighten the scene, his expression is much easier to see {I’ll put a picture / gif below}. I think it’s safe to assume Thomas was a bit reluctant to continue as Hoyt had to coax him;

“Come on, Tommy, ain’t no different than the slaughterhouse. Meat’s meat; Bone’s bone. Get it done.”

I think Thomas really only got comfortable with the new lifestyle after he used it as an artistic outlet. Especially when he got to ‘experiment’ on Eric. I’ve seen multiple people use this scene as a means to say Thomas is gay. And listen, I don’t necessarily disagree, I don’t think he’s completely straight either {Reminder, any character that’s sexuality isn’t confirmed means that labeling them as ‘straight’ is a headcanon too!} I just think there’s more to work with here. I myself have struggles with my sexuality, specifically with how I view women. I’m not trying to push this onto Tommy, I just see potential similarities. I think Thomas was definitely envious of Eric, therefore, taking his face and ‘becoming’ something similar to him was a way to hide himself and present in a more ‘attractive way.’ I think he’s attracted to men, but his attraction is either masked or based on the idea of being like them. Eric has a life with such intense purpose. An army veteran {returning as well} with a partner, good family dynamic, and a friend group? ONTOP of being attractive and fit? Oh, hun, you know Thomas was yearning right there. He just wants to be good enough. I mean, really really, good enough. I don’t know why, but my brain automatically went to ‘he wants to become and consume Eric.’ As in, he’s attracted to the idea of being {like} Eric; As well as being attracted to Eric. I don’t know how to communicate this properly so I hope you get what I’m putting down.

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Again, apologies for my long incoherent rants; I have so many ideas that I want to share

Much love, 🫀

TW: Strong language, gore, self-depredation, TCM-related topics

This is so cringe I'm sorry

I don't remember the last time I felt competent; Worthy of anything really. Kill or be killed; Work 'till you drop, son. That's what uncle Charlie Hoyt told me. Not much I can do anymore. The meat plant closed almost four years ago and yet I still yearn for it. How I felt when I finally had a place to feel 'normal.' I felt like a freak, sure, but at least I had a purpose. Momma was happy, I was bringing in money, food; Something beneficial to the family name. Now, all I have is the basement. It's the only place that feels like my own. Everything else is either taken from me or shared with the family. I don't understand; Other families get to live peaceful lives. I don't know, what did we do? Why aren't I good enough? Momma tells me I'm good enough but I could never forget the horror painted on her face when she saw the wounds on my face years back. She was so worried, so angry with me that I would ever make her worry like that. When she first saw the masks; She always fostered my creativity but all that support decayed the moment she saw that mask. I remember his blood staining my face; It felt good. I wish it didn't, but it did. The way my sweat mixed with his blood felt like I became someone new. He was handsome, from somewhere with a purpose. Uncle Hoyt said he was reenlisting in Vietnam before he came here. I never knew too much about those things but I remember how I felt when Uncle Charlie left me. He never did come back. There was something different about him; That became especially clear that night when he killed the Sheriff. The day I got fired; The day that whore insulted my family. Maybe he was right. Maybe I am an animal. Momma tries to reassure me I'm not, but what if I am? What if that's all I'm meant to be. A dumb animal scurrying around with his dumb chainsaw-toy for food. Playing with his dolls and playing 'make-believe' just to feel special. I'm a failure, that I know for certain. But I know that if I leave; If I die then Momma and them will die too. I could never let that happen; Not when they're all I have. I need to fix things. I'll keep Momma happy, I swear I will. I'll make my uncles proud of me. I have to. I-

"Thomas! Thomas Brown Hewitt, you get up here right now!"

I hate to admit it, but I don't really like the dinners we have. I've gotten used to them; bland and unfulfilling, but it's all we have. Tonight was no different. Into the dining room where the remaining family members were seated, the "Sheriff", God I wish Uncle Charlie came back, was standing behind 'his' chair at the head of the table, leaning on his arms for support as they held the chair crest. Uncle Monty remained in his wheelchair, looking down at the table with his tired and unimpressed expression, opposite of Hoyt's deadpanned countenance. I know they're unimpressed with my disheveled appearance; I know I should be better.

"Sit down, son. Momma and I got a few things we have to discuss with you." Hoyt's voice spewed with condescending hues.

"You've done nothing wrong, hun, The Lord's just..challenging a bit extra us this month." Said Momma.

__________

Okay yay! You made it to the end again. I wrote this through Thomas' perspective as well as minor aspects of third-person. I was listening to 'Family Tree' and 'Hard Times' {Ethel Cain reference?} again and felt like yapping via Thomas. I'm open to feedback as I am on every post!

Much love, 🫀

Hyperfixation so bad I'm starting to annoy people

{Thomas} Hewitt Family Dynamic/Psychology Analysis

TW: Canon-related dynamics/activities, Incest, Rape/SA, Pedophilia, Abuse {Mental, Psychical, Emotional}, Discussions of mental health, extreme language, Usage of R!slur, War, Hoyt {Biggest warning of them all}

Yapping session again, I apologize {Wrote this whilst listening to Preacher's Daughter, GOATED ALBUM} Poorly edited, a bit more coherent than the last post 🩷

The family dynamic seems to be very..unconventional yet unsurprising. It’s a family of traumatized, traumatizing, enablers who’re struggling to survive both in spirit and in actuality. This post was intended to focus mainly on Thomas but I dove deep into Hoyt and the other family members as well because I feel they have such a big impact on Tommy:(

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Thomas is obviously a very closed-off and introverted individual. His childhood was full of ridicule, cruelty, and abuse. His main father figure was and still is Hoyt - Charlie, but his biggest influence is his Momma, Luda Mae. I’ve seen multiple people paint Luda as a saint when in all actuality, she’s not. Although she may not be as malicious, she’s an enabler with intense family pride and protectiveness. Her automatic dislike of Erin is proof of this. She assumes Erin {and her friends, brother, boyfriend} are judgemental and arrogant ‘city-slickers’ who’re out to get Thomas. In all actuality, Erin never comments on Thomas’ looks besides her small conversation with Henrietta: “I couldn’t, I couldn’t look at him.” Even in this segment, she never says anything bad about Thomas except warning Henrietta and the Tea Lady {we’ll just call her ‘Kathy’ based on her actor} of his arrival. During this segment, we learn additional information about how the family views Thomas, as well as his general behavior. Dialogue from family members include:

“He knows better than to be messing around here…Poor Sweet boy--He’s no harm; Always keeps to himself.” - Henrietta, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003--1:02

“I know your kind--Nothing but cruelty and ridicule for my boy, all the time he was growing up. Does anybody care about me and my boy?” - Luda Mae, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003--1:06

“He ain’t retarded; He’s misunderstood.” - Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--16:30

“You don’t like playing with me anymore because I’m a pussy, that’s what you said. Well, my nephew Tommy ain’t no pussy; Maybe you’d like to play with him for a little while.” - Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--51:35

“You beautiful bastard, you!” {Honestly this entire scene could be used here} - Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:01:21 - 1:02:40

“Thomas, quit playing with your fucking dolls and get up here!..Hmm, I like your new face.” - Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:06:15 - 1:06:35

“There you go, nice work, Tommy.” - Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:09:55

“There’s a time when every boy becomes a man.” Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:17:53

As you can see, most of the praise Thomas gets is from Hoyt. Honestly, reviewing Hoyt’s character on his own, this may seem surprising, but diving past face-value, this isn’t surprising at all. Hoyt is a sadistic, impulsive, traumatized veteran who very clearly values his family. I think both Thomas and Hoyt have the same thought{s}: “Family is all I’ve known, family is all I have consistently. Therefore, I need to protect it.” This is very apparent in Hoyt’s speech in The Beginning 2006: “Us... we're staying right here. The ashes of six generations of Hewitts have been tilled into the soil of this farm. We will never abandon the place of our birth. We're on our own now, people. And alone... we will rise above it all.” Both Hoyt and Thomas value family so much, and this is apparent in their immediate protection of them; As well as how violent they get once the family's safety is in jeopardy. The family also heavily depends on both of them, Thomas more than Hoyt. Luda Mae immediately calling out for Hoyt once Eric throws a brick through their window {48:25}, relying on Thomas to chase down Chrissie, ordering Thomas to ‘wrap things up’ after Monty’s amputation, Thomas being the main source of income prior to the meat plant shutting down, Hoyt Charlie being the one to protect Thomas from the original Sheriff Hoyt, the deleted scene where Charlie protects Thomas from malicious classmates, Thomas protecting Hoyt by killing the biker {1:01 - 1:03}. 

I’d also like to add; As someone with multiple military family members, the military changes you. War changes you. Considering Charlie is a POW, his trauma has to be so deep. {I’d like to make this clear: !!I’M NOT DEFENDING NOR SYMPATHISING WITH HOYT!!} His lust for violence, domination, control, and protection is most likely a combination of his personality, growing up dirt poor, his relationship with Luda Mae + other family members {which I’ll talk about below}, the war, and their current situation. He definitely gets defensive of his country, the military in general, the South, and his family. I.E: “Ain’t nothing I hate worse than a draft-dodging hippie protester.” - The Beginning 2006--40:30. He most likely has the same views on “City-slickers” as Luda Mae, just more extreme. In fact, I think it’s safe to assume the entire family has that view, maybe even Thomas. {Though his would be more protection-based as opposed to politically divided.} *cough-cough, Hoyt*

Going back to Thomas’ “father figures”, Monty and Hoyt were the only men in the house for Thomas to look up to. Hoyt was gone when Thomas was around 13, meaning during his very “experimental” years, he only had Monty to look up to. Both Monty and Hoyt are sexual deviants with no shame at all; Monty very openly gropes Erin in the 2003 remake whilst calling her a “Good girl.” {I almost turned off the movie, I kid you not} Whilst Hoyt very openly gropes Bailey multiple times, and even toys with Erin. It’s also heavily implied he raped Bailey {poor girl, this entire movie was so poor to her and Chrissie.} And whilst Luda Mae does get Hoyt to calm down with Erin, she still actively enables this behavior and completely ignores it. Now, I don’t think Thomas would replicate this {fingers crossed}; I’m sure Thomas has ‘urges’ but he has so much to do, such little extra energy, and a shit ton of {religious} trauma which would most likely coerce him away from sexual activity. He also very obviously wants praise. The more Hoyt praises and encourages Thomas, the more sadistic he gets. And yes, Thomas is sadistic. Sure he’s trying to survive, protect, and feed his family, but he also actively tortures his victims. I.E; skinning Eric’s arms, bathing Andy’s amputation in salt, ect. And I don’t wanna blame this on his ‘mental deterioration’, because that’s not it in my opinion. Thomas has crossed the threshold of  “I’m doing this to protect my family / because I’m forced to.’ No, he’s violent and angry. He’s so done with everything. He needs an outlet to take his anger from him, and the victims are practically begging him with how infuriating they can be. Also, wearing Kemper’s mask to catch Erin??? Jesus Christ, Thomas, that’s traumatizing. And he knows he’ll get away with it. The law enforcement is gone, Hoyt has done worse, Momma doesn’t seem to speak on it, why not continue? And I’m sure he feels powerful when he finally gets the chance to bite back. This is exactly the kind of manipulation Hoyt did to get Thomas fully on board with this killing-spree shit; “It’s one of those assholes who used to fuck with you in the schoolyard, Tommy!” - The Beginning 2006--1:01:40. This brings me to my next point - 

The family is immensely good at manipulation. Kinda by default, too. I know Southern hospitality can be viewed as passive aggressive and unnecessary depending on where you’re from, especially if you’re from up North; And I can’t disagree in some instances. Luda Mae is the MOST likely to use her ‘Southern hospitality’ as means of manipulation. Her little coo to Bailey about “We got to get you cleaned up, you don’t want to look dirty for company, do you?” at around 42:30 {Which by the way, was Marrietta Marich’s [Luda Mae’s actress] idea apparently.} It was not only a way to distract Bailey from the torture below them, but to indoctrinate herself into believing everything was fine. This was their life, and Charlie Hoyt knows what’s best, doesn’t he? I’m sure this was really difficult for her; Truly seeing who her son was and how the war affected him so deeply. Her seeming so closed off to Bailey and Chrissie at the community center was a result of the intense lifestyle change. Hoyt is EXTREMELY manipulative as well. I mean, he was a POW, you need a lot of skills in pattern recognition and psychology to survive such things. The way he speaks to everyone; Beginning slightly rational and neutral, only to quickly be angered and intimidated by his lack of power in the situation. This is especially prominent when he speaks to Morgan, Erin, and Pepper; But mostly Morgan. In the first movie, when the car breaks down and he tries to “calm Erin down” only to scold all of them for possession of drugs and such; Trying to convince Erin that Kemper killed the hitchhiker when he knew what really happened; Making Morgan reenact the scene whilst threatening him with an unloaded gun, pressuring him into “shooting” whilst taunting about how they’ll be “accomplices to murder.” Smashing the bottle in Morgan’s face when he says Hoyt can have the Skynyrd tickets. The way he kisses and rubs on Bailey during the dinner scene in The Beginning?? How he coos and taunts Erin once she wakes up from the poison?? He’s a master in manipulation and puts on a damn good show at that. Henrietta and the Tea Lady / Kathy are also extremely manipulative. When they force Erin to drink the tea, blame her for the baby crying, saying that she “looks tense” and “needs to relax”?? Yeah, this family is full of manipulative and emotionally abusive cycles. Anyway, back to how this affects Thomas.

Thomas was most definitely manipulated in multiple ways. I’m sure Luda Mae has manipulated him into ‘doing what's best for the family’ and all that bullshit. He definitely has some religious trauma and sure as hell has endured abuse of many kinds.

To tie this all together, I present to you: The Family Dynamic. 

I saw a post by I believe Scrapnick?{Their art is so so appealing} Anyway, someone had asked why Thomas and Hoyt are both “brothers and uncle/nephew.” They responded with something like: “Luda Mae most likely got assaulted by her father as a child.” Their post was more detailed than that but that was the main point. And honestly, I agree. At first I thought Hoyt was Luda Mae’s husband, and then I heard him refer to Thomas as his “nephew”, and then I heard him call Luda Mae “mama.” I went researching on wikis and such only to find results such as “he doesn’t view Thomas as a real brother, therefore he uses uncle/nephew.” Whilst this may be true, Hoyt and Luda Mae only have at MAX a 15 year difference. The actors {Marrietta Marich, R. Lee Ermey} only had a 14 year difference. Considering he also calls Monty his uncle, I think it's safe to assume Luda experienced assault from her father during her teens, resulting in pregnancy. Tying this back to religious trauma, I think this fact really upsets Hoyt. He loves his family, obviously, but I think the idea of him being ‘born of sin,’ I.E: Out of wedlock, incest, pedophilia; most likely affects him. I wonder if he ever thought “Well, I’m going to hell anyway, might as well sin.” I’m rambling right now, I apologize; Welcome to my blog {Yappville.}

Now, this dynamic obviously affected his relationship with Luda Mae. I doubt she loves him any less, but I think it was definitely difficult considering A.) Growing up religious; B.) Being such a young mother; And C.) Growing up and continuing to be excruciatingly poor. I think Hoyt gets a bit jealous of Thomas, surprisingly. He’s jealous of how much Luda Mae adores him; How he really gets to have a mother instead of a struggling sister/mother who was trying so hard to get by. Hoyt seems to have a closer {yet still distant} relationship to Monty than Thomas does. I think Monty is just a distant, miserable old man whose patience is low and tiredness is high. He’s worn out, especially after the amputation. The entire family is worn out; Slowly losing their grip on humanity with each passing day. The only consistent thing they have is each other, and yet still their relationships escape them. I think everyone, but especially Thomas {and Jedidiah, poor baby} just want a home to feel safe in. Really, just a stable income, stable food supply, and the ability to rest both physically and mentally. He wants to be able to have a purpose; To work again without needing to worry if his family will be okay. Being able to walk around the house without having to shut himself in the basement to avoid scoldings, demands, or endless calls. This entire family is really fucked up and in need of some rest, family therapy, maybe some physical therapy, and some damn prozac. 

Okay, yay!! You made it to the end; I apologize for the long post again, I get so into analyzing things and I couldn’t resist looking into the Hewitts. Tommy needs some prozac and some Southern cooking {He’s just like me fr}

Love you all, thank you so much for the support on the previous post 🫀

Thomas Hewitt Medical Analysis / Headcanons?? Because I love him

TW: Self-mutilation, Hoyt mention {very very brief}, typical canon activities, self-harm?, skin conditions,

Very poor editing, my apologies -

Speech:

I’ve seen many people assume that Thomas either A.) Doesn’t speak by choice; B.) Can’t speak from vocal {cord} issues; Or C.) A combination of the two / his facial deformity. I agree with everyone else but I’d also like to add a potential reason: I’m pretty sure Thomas was diagnosed with ‘metal deterioration’ of some sort in the introduction scene {2006/The Beginning}, and considering this was the mid-late 1900’s, knowledge on mental health was very little compared to now, especially in such a small town. Thomas could possibly be neurodivergent, maybe high-function autism but even then, Thomas could simply have a condition called Speech Apraxia/Apraxia of Speech/AOS/CAS. “In CAS, the brain has trouble planning for speech movement. The brain isn't able to properly direct the movements needed for speech. The speech muscles aren't weak, but the muscles don't form words the right way.” - Mayo Clinic. This could’ve been amplified by his facial deformity. I don’t think it’s irrational to think Thomas can speak, or speaks scarcely, but it’s also not irrational to think Thomas just doesn’t speak. I don’t think it’s a vocal cord issue as Thomas can make sounds pretty well {Considering he screams/yells/yelps at times in the 2003 remake, and even ‘howls’ in the 2006 version after he gets stabbed by Chrissie.} This is just a thought though, I could be wrong.

Skin Condition:

In a behind-the-scenes video {which can be found on youtube}, one of the crew members said Thomas had an extreme form of skin cancer. Now, this could very well be true, but if it was a real-world condition, Thomas would either be bed-ridden, hooked to a machine constantly, or dead. This condition could be made up, but I’ve found two possible real-world conditions which Thomas may have. 

Cutaneous Lupus {CLE}. “Cutaneous lupus is one type of lupus — an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation in different body tissues. “Cutaneous lupus,” which means skin lupus, affects your skin. Inflammation in your skin causes a variety of symptoms — most often a red, scaly rash. These symptoms are triggered by sunlight exposure.” - Cleveland Clinic. This, as most skin conditions, can be localized, meaning they’re only in one area. In Thomas’ case, this is his face. This could also occur in his scalp, neck, and ears for all we know. CLE is also not contagious.

___

What is CLE? 

“Cutaneous lupus, or skin lupus, is an autoimmune disease that affects your skin, causing skin rashes. Autoimmune diseases happen when your immune system mistakenly attacks your own body tissues. In cutaneous lupus, your immune system attacks your skin cells, causing chronic inflammation in your skin. This manifests as a recognizable rash, often with related symptoms like itching, irritation or swelling.” - Cleveland Clinic

2. Pustular Psoriasis. Now, this diagnosis doesn’t make the most sense until you see the actual ‘photo’ of Thomas’ face. A photo {Which is shown below} is from the 2006/The Beginning behind-the-scenes’ on youtube. This looks A LOT like Pustular Psoriasis to me; Though I could be very wrong. “Symptoms of pustular psoriasis include pustules (white or yellow, pus-filled, painful bumps) that may be surrounded by inflamed or reddened/discolored skin. The pus in pustules is caused by inflammation and is not contagious. People with plaque psoriasis or other types of psoriasis may also develop pustular psoriasis” - The National Psoriasis Foundation. Common placement of Pustular Psoriasis includes the hands, feet, scalp, and face. It usually affects the hands and feet {Palmoplantar pustulosis}, but not in all patients.

___

What’s the Difference?

“Pustular psoriasis is a type of psoriasis that causes skin plaques with pustules or blisters anywhere on your body. Palmoplantar pustulosis, which is also known as palmoplantar pustular psoriasis, is pustular psoriasis that affects only your hands and feet.” - Cleveland Clinic

___

What is Pustular Psoriasis?

Psoriasis is an auto-immune disease, as is CLE: “Your immune system keeps your body healthy by defending itself against foreign invaders like bacteria. These invaders can make you sick. If you have psoriasis, your skin immune system becomes overactive and releases inflammatory molecules that cause healthy skin cells to divide and replicate too quickly, which causes dead skin cells to form on the surface of your skin as scales or flakes. This state of immunologic over-activity also causes certain cells from the immune system called neutrophils to collect in the most superficial layers of the skin, which causes pustules.” - Cleveland Clinic

Photo for Reference:

I’m not joking, this is an actual screenshot from the Behind-The-Scenes at around 32:17. Now, I don’t think Thomas’ condition AS SEEN IN THE FILMS is as extreme, but this might be what a flare-up looks like for him. That being said, there’s a significant feature Thomas has that we haven’t addressed yet,

How Did Thomas Lose His Nose?

In The Beginning {2006}, we can see Thomas’ nose cartilage rotting off from multiple open wounds. Just based on this information, it’s safe to assume it just rotten off, right? Not necessarily. Looking at Thomas’ face reveal in the 2003 remake, we notice the nose is cleanly cut off right where the ‘rot’/wound was in the 2006 version. Combine this with his tendency of self-mutilation, this leads me to assume he {or someone in the family} cut it off. Now, I’ve researched this a bit {hyperfixation running rampant rn} and cutting off your nose doesn’t hit any major arteries and isn’t life-threatening on its own. However, your nose is part of what’s called the ‘Triangle of Death.’ The Triangle of Death is a part of the face featuring the nose all the way down to the corners of the mouth. Because this area is so close to your brain as well as openings in your face, infections can be deadly. So cutting off your own nose could kill you from infection, not the act itself. Obviously, Thomas didn’t die from this as he’s in the damn movies with a fully-healed 'nose'. Anyway, going back to observing his face, we can also see the nasal bone. Finally answering the question: It’s safe to assume Thomas picks at his skin alot. Combine this with poor hygiene and wearing his {very dirty} mask all the time, his wounds most likely got infected. This caused him to literally rot from the inside out, which caused necrosis. Thomas most likely cut his nose off because of an infection that had the potential to be fatal. Lord knows Luda Mae was probably horrified and I’m sure Hoyt wasn’t too thrilled either..{Monty’s snoozin’ 100%}

Anyway, apologies for the poorly-edited and non-coherent rant. I see so many theories and get a bit intimidated to comment under most of them so I decided to post this instead. :)

Shutter bug Bubba 📸

Commission for @samalong1

OH MY GOD😭😭

i found this post awhile ago and i was such a fan that nows theres image. enjoy

just gays doing gay things, keep scrolling

Hiiii I'm the one who sent this ask and by god did u respond quickly :D I'm gonna elaborate on the options of What The Hell Is The Van Groups Deal? since u asked about it :) Is Franklin the only faerie in the group? it depends on what Kind of faerie he is cus if he's like, an adult changeling then yea But if he's just a generic undefined faerie then so is everyone else, which I'm gonna elaborate on now! Franklin and Sally would be vaguely bug-ish looking, Franklin specifically would have the features of a Death Head Moth while Sally is some kind of generic butterfly thing. Jerry isn't even a faerie he's just Sally's boyfriend of the week, he is none the wiser to all the fae stuff and is just vibing. Kirk and Pam are a matching set, while I think making kirk a tinkerbell-ish faerie would be funny it wouldn't make Any Sense so he and Pam are just superhumanly pretty and snobbish. (picture like generic fantasy elves) Jesus Tapdancing Christ this response is Long, but I hope u enjoyed the clarification :D

good morning/night, I've had this thought regarding tcm that Will Not leave my brain so I simply have to share it with The #1 Franknub scholar. it's essentially just "Nubbins is some kind of faerie and Franklin is either a completely different kind of faerie or like, a regular human with the worst luck imaginable" There is zero plot, there is just Nubbins and Franklin existing in eachother's vicinity. anyway I hope this is even slightly cohearent since the idea mainly happened cus I wanted to put Franklin in pretty fantasy clothes and it just sorta spiralled into this. thank u for reading my ramblings :)

LOVE IT…an AU about the Sawyers being fae is really appealing because of their capriciousness and weird rules and games and leading travelers astray. Along with the knowledge that the movie was an adult Hansel and Gretel with the family as trolls very very early in planning (and some other supernatural ideas…I guess by necessity/budget they had to make a much more “grounded” movie) like all that makes me see the final product as an infusion of so many ideas and not just the Slasher it is known to be…a template which limits my imagination…

ANYWAY.,.

I also want to see Franklin in pretty fantasy clothes…is he the only faerie in his group or are they all faeries who meet scarier faeries…or is Franklin a guy who got horribly lost and is now being taunted by some whimsical forest creature…many options

The sillies

SO he Does get clobbered pretty badly by the broom But he actually makes it out alright. They both come out of this looking hellish but it’s Okay it Happens

Hello and Goodbye

When Franklin laid eyes on the Hitchhiker his sister's friends let in their van, one of the first things out of his mouth was "We just picked up Dracula."

Unfortunately for him, he was right.

First chapter of my TCM vampire au fic is up. Hope you enjoy!

Day 7- It's a Nice Picture

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

A bit late, such is, but still here before the deadline lol. I just wanna say thank you for running this whole thing, it's been a lot of fun, and the prompts have gotten me writing and drawing more than I have been in a long time.

This one is a longer pre-Franknub/ Franknub adjacent short about Nubbins taking the same picture over and over again. 15,000 words. Warnings for main character death (like a lot, but they get better, it's a time loop), canon-typical violence (including the brother on brother variety), some ableism, gay homophobe Drayton moments, and general Sawyer-isms.

It's a Nice Picture

Nubbins could feel his blood pumping, and he knew he was alive. He chased the girl down, stumbling a bit as he went, and slashing her all the while. She screamed and he laughed. Everything had been boring since Bobby left for Vietnam, so having an actual dinner guest and getting to play with her like this was great fun for Nubbins. He hadn’t had this much fun in- well- in a long time. She ran towards the road. He hoped she’d get her foot stuck in the cattle guard- that had happened to someone they had for dinner before- but she stepped over it and into the road. Bubba was catching up, Nubbins could hear the buzzsaw purring, so he picked up the pace. He wanted as much time playing with this girl as he could get- before everything got boring again- before Cook tried to reel them back in. He ran onto the road with her, catching her for a second, and cutting her again and again across the back, giggling. She elbowed him hard in the chin, and he got angry- slashing at her harder. He thought he heard Bubba say something, but he didn’t know what it was. And he probably never would. He heard the truck, turned, and yelped, and then he was under it. There wasn’t much after that. He couldn’t see anything. He didn’t smell much but blood. There was pain, for a brief moment, and Bubba wailing and some indescribable feeling. The last thing he was conscious of was the blood. Nubbins could feel his blood pumping, and he knew that he was dead. 

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Not consciously, but just because he was supposed to. Then he regained control. Nubbins was in the van. He was back in the van. And it was morning. The day before he died.  “Wh-what? Did- did you see that?” he asked. They had to know. It was the day they died- they should know like he knew. 

“See what?” asked the less friendly of the two guys in the back. 

“The- the screamin’ and the blood and- and the truck!” Nubbins said. “Y-you was there!” he said, to the purple shirt girl. 

“What’s he talkin’ about?” asked the driver. 

“I think he’s got heat stroke,” said the girl who died easier. 

“Oh! Well uh, I think we got some water ‘round here somewhere,” said the boy in the chair. 

“Would that even help with heat stroke?” asked the girl in purple. 

“I- I dunno but- would you like that? Would you like some water?” 

“I-” Nubbins paused. Something was wrong. Something had happened. “I… I gotta get home. I need to go home-” Nubbins reached for the car door and the guy sitting on the floor grabbed his arm. 

“Woah- man-” Nubbins open palm smacked him in the face loud enough the driver turned around, gently telling the stranger to let go of him. The van goers gasped, and floor guy flinched hard, like he was so weak that hurt him, and touched Nubbins’ blood where it ran down his face. 

“Hey!” the driver yelled. 

“I’m gettin’ out of the van!” Nubbins yelled, throwing open the door. Everyone started hollering something between ‘don’t do that’ and ‘Jerry, stop the van’, and ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ as Nubbins hurled himself out of the moving vehicle, landing on the grass with only minor scrapes. The van slowed down as quick as it could, and they started to get out, the chair boy asking if he was okay as Nubbins rushed into the brush, determined to get back home as soon as possible. 

Bubba was okay. That was good. But he was no help in figuring out what the hell had happened to Nubbins. Nubbins explained it, again and again, and again, and Bubba tried really hard to help, but they were both just getting more frustrated. It had almost got to a screaming match when they heard a knock at the door. Nubbins and Bubba both looked at each other in shock. 

Nobody ever knocked on the door. There was some yelling, and Nubbins recognized the voice of floor guy. Then he heard him come in the house. Bubba started babbling, almost crying, and he tried to hide behind Nubbins. The guy kept getting closer, walking down the halls. Nubbins took the sledge from the table and slowly walked to the hall. 

“Hello?” called floor guy. Nubbins didn’t greet him, he just pulled the hammer back and smashed it into his skull- just like cattle- just like Grandpa taught him! Floor guy fell writhing to the ground in one good hit. Grandpa would be so proud- this was why Nubbins was his favorite! Then he heard the girl. 

“Bubba- drag- drag this guy back in. I’ll deal with her.” Nubbins crept into the living room, following after the girl. She stumbled into their living room and then started screaming and crying something awful, staring up at their couch. What a bitch! No one had ever been more mean about Nubbins’ art, and he lived with Cook. Nubbins bashed her head in quick too. He would play with her more- especially for being so mean about his art- but he kept thinking about how proud Grandpa would be that he killed her so well. “Is this- is this what happened last time?” Nubbins asked. Bubba shrugged. “Shut up!” Nubbins snapped, even though Bubba hadn’t said anything. He dragged the girl to the kitchen, and Bubba started slaughtering them, trying to stay out of Nubbins’ way much the way he did Cook’s. Bubba analyzed the girl’s face briefly, and then mumbled to Nubbins. “Y-you like that face?” Bubba shrugged. “There- there’s another girl who’ll show up soon. She got a better face, you’ll like her face better.” Bubba carried on, at that, packing the easier to kill girl into the icebox. Nubbins helped to package the meat off the floor guy as Bubba cut it, on instinct. Nubbins tried, really really hard, to think this through. 

He had this day once before. Then he died at the end of it. Then he was back in the van. Nubbins had never really heard of anything like that before- not even in stories or TV. But he had heard Cook bitching about wishing he had a second chance at life for as long as Nubbins could remember. So maybe that was what he meant. Nubbins got a second chance. He just had to do things right this time. 

The driver of the van came next, and Bubba got him pretty easy. Bubba started worrying, that more people might be coming, and talking about going out to check the property. Nubbins would normally think that was stupid- nobody would come foolin’ around on the Sawyer property. But he also knew Bubba told Cook he found the boy in the chair and the purple shirt girl in the woods near the house. So he agreed, and they went. Nubbins was worried they wouldn’t find them, but the pair made it easy. 

“Jerry!” called the girl. 

“Jerry!” repeated the boy. This was where it really counted. If they took the girl home for dinner, then the same thing would happen and Nubbins would waste his second chance. So, they had to change things up a little. 

“Okay Bubba- I- I know these two. There’s- there’s a guy in a chair, and he can’t get away easy, and there’s a girl with these long white pants, and she’s a real runner. She- she uh- she’s real mean and she could slip away from us and get us in trouble easy. So- so you kill her first! And then uh- then we take the boy home to feed Grandpa! Yeah!” Bubba nodded, and the pair of fools got closer. Bubba and Nubbins crept up, Nubbins deciding to go wide and flank them, and Bubba slinking up surprisingly quietly in front of them. Then he heard the saw roar and some sweet, sweet screams. 

“Sally! Sally no- Oh God- Oh no-” Nubbins ran out from the brush, then, behind the boy in the chair. “Oh God! No!” he yelped. “Wh- I didn’t mean to make you mad- I’m- I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to- I- I like your picture I-”

“Shut up!” Nubbins said. “You’re comin’ with us.” He tried to push the chair, but the guy turned the wheels off somehow- jamming down some little break. “Hey! Wh- don’t do that!” 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you!” 

“Bubba, grab the chair-” Bubba started talking, pointing at the body of the girl- split right up the middle. “We gonna get her in a minute- she ain’t goin’ anywhere. J-just- help me c-carry him!” Bubba sighed, putting down the saw, and picking up one end of the chair. The two of them carried him off- like Grandpa- all while he complained. Nubbins got everything set up perfect, while Bubba went back for the body and the saw. This dinner was gonna be so perfect, even Cook wouldn’t be able to complain! 

It was about half an hour before Cook got home. When he did, the old man walked in and started searching around, suspicious-like. 

“Hey Cook! Cook! Lookit what we got!” Nubbins called. He came quickly, glaring and getting ready to fight, when he laid eyes on Franklin. 

“Oh my God- you’re the fella from the gas station- I- Please- they kidnapped me and-!” 

“Shut your mouth!” Cook snapped, then he went back to suspicion. “That’s uh…” Cook looked around, glaring this way and that, at Nubbins downstairs, at Grandpa already down for dinner. Bubba was hiding in the kitchen, expecting him to come home mad, but Nubbins had him this time. There was nothing to be mad about. “Did you stay home all day with your brother? Like I told you?” He was genuinely shocked. 

“Y-yeah! Jus’ like you t-told me-”

“Nuh-uh!” said Franklin. 

“Wh- Shut up!” Nubbins snapped at him. 

“He was out hitchhiking! He was out hitchhiking all day-”

“Wh- whu- fuck you!” 

“Did you lie to me?” Cook snapped, starting to puff up like an angry rooster. 

“No! Nuh uh! H-he’s just t-tryin’ to get me in tr-trouble!” 

“You deserve to be in trouble! ‘Cause you’re a liar- and a murderer and-”

“Shut your mouth!” Nubbins hissed. He had never had a victim so damn noisy! Cook stormed into the kitchen. Bubba flattened out, trying to look as small as possible. 

“You!” Cook snapped. Bubba flattened further and pointed at himself. “Was your brother here? Was he lookin’ after you all day? Or did he run off?” 

“Leatherface!” Nubbins said. “Tell him the tr-truth! Tell him I was here!” 

“Shut up, you!” Cook snapped. Bubba, stuck between a hard place and a rock, sold out Nubbins. 

“You’re a bitch, Leatherface!” Nubbins snapped. Cook hit him hard, but open handed, on the top of his head. The brooming in his first chance hurt more, and he took that as Cook being forced to admit at least a little that they did good. 

“Did you get all of ‘em?” Cook asked. 

“Yeah! We did- we got all of ‘em! And the one we saved for Grandpa- h-he can’t even get away!” Nubbins proclaimed, running over to Franklin’s chair and rocking it back and forth. 

“Well… I… Alright. Let’s… Let’s give Grandpa a whack.” 

Grandpa struggled just as much in this chance as he did Nubbins’ first chance. But, since Franklin couldn’t get away, he got more and more tries. He was greeted with a chorus of excitement with each swing, all his grandsons cheering him on as he tried again and again, slowly but surely bashing Franklin’s head in. Franklin screamed, and cussed at them occasionally, but though he was a lot bigger than Sally, he couldn’t do much more. Nubbins almost felt bad for him. Franklin seemed like an okay guy. If they were brothers, or cousins or something they would have been best friends, he could feel it. But Franklin was an outsider. So he had to die. One. “Harder Grandpa!” Two. “Get him! Get that bitch!” Three. “Kill him! Kill him!” Four. “C’mon Grandpa!” And on his fifth hit, there was a vicious crack, and Franklin went limp- the special kind of limp only the dead could go. The Sawyer brothers erupted in cheers, feeding Grandpa blood, and telling him again and again how he was the best. Grandpa seemed overwhelmed with the joy too, moving around in almost a little dance, and then finally, rising from his chair, actually standing up to bash Franklin in the head one more time. Nubbins was overjoyed, it was such a great way for his second chance to end! Then, suddenly as he rose, Grandpa fell. He collapsed directly forward, and all the brothers failed to catch him. 

“Grandpa?” asked Cook, shocked as the rest of them. “Oh God- Oh fuck! Boy- he- he- all that excitement mighta done gave Grandpa a heart attack-” Cook moved over quick as he could to try and lift him, to feel for his pulse. Nubbins didn’t know what to do- this wasn’t right- this wasn’t how his second chance should go! Maybe Grandpa wasn’t dead- maybe he would be okay- but- 

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Then he paused. The van goers kept saying some shit he didn’t care about. Nubbins was back. Back in the van. I get a third chance? he thought. He never heard of third chances before. But he had one. So he was gonna get it right this time. Nubbins jumped out of the van again, this time without saying a word. 

He figured it out. The first two times, Franklin died. So, for a good chance, Franklin would have to live. Then nobody in Nubbins’ family had to die. So this time, he did everything mostly the same. Until it came to that moment in the woods. 

“Sally! Sally no- Oh God- Oh no-” Nubbins ran out from the brush, then, behind the boy in the chair. “Oh God! No!” he yelped. “Wh- I didn’t mean to make you mad- I’m- I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to- I- I like your picture I-”

“Yeah?” Nubbins said. “Y-you like it?”

“Yeah- I- I really do.”

“Okay, you can go then.” 

“What?” Franklin asked. 

“You can go. I- I’m not mad at you no more.”

“Y-you murdered my sister because-”

“Oh- we uh- we killed them to eat,” Nubbins said. “F-for food! Now uh… go! G-get out of here before we eat you too!” Bubba did not like that- not at all. He knew Cook was gonna be red-hot mad about it. But Nubbins figured it was fine. His third chance was going to go well. 

And it did. Everything was perfect. Franklin wasn’t even there to snitch on Nubbins for hitchhiking, and Cook was pleasantly surprised. 

“You… You stayed with your brother? Like I asked?” 

“Y-yeah! All day. I- I went around outside a little during the day, but I stayed near the house,” Nubbins lied. 

“I…. It’s been a long damn day. You know? There’s been… There’s been reports, about some of the people we took, and cops and… They’re gettin’ closer. And I… I appreciate you stayin’ with Bubba. Makin’ sure everything’s alright around here… If they ever got to us I’d…” Cook looked far away. Nubbins knew he had a plan if the cops ever caught them for real, and he knew it involved everyone sitting at the dinner table facing the wall while Cook went and got the gun. The Sawyer family owned one old shotgun, which nobody but Grandpa ever ever got to touch, until Grandpa had gotten too old and handed control of the house and shotgun over to Cook. Cook was always real freaked out talking about the day he would have to use the gun, which Nubbins understood. Their whole lives Grandpa made a big big deal about never touching it, and if any of the boys so much as opened the cabinet it was in, they would get a real beating. Nubbins didn’t like being anywhere near it. But Nubbins was always kind of excited for the day Cook actually had to use it. He had only ever seen guns in movies, and heard from Bobby what it was like using guns in Vietnam. He hoped if Cook ever had to use the gun, that he would get to watch. “Eh- never mind all that. You know- if you stay in and watch Bubba like that- I’ll- I’ll make you boys some head cheese, and bring you some cokes from the gas station.” Bubba came around then, to greet Cook, realizing he was in a good mood that evening. “Hey there Bubba. Heard you spent the afternoon with your big brother. Was it good?” Bubba nodded, and Cook smiled a little, earnestly. Cook didn’t smile much. 

“Did anybody come by the house today? Or was it quiet?” he asked, taking off his old boots. 

“Oh uh- there- there was a whole bunch of t-teenagers. Who kept comin’ in the house. But uh- m-me and Bubba took care of it.” Then, Cook asked the same question he always did. 

“Did you get ‘em all?” And for some fucking reason, Bubba told him the truth.

“Leatherface! D-don’t-” But it was way too late. Cook grabbed the old thin three branch he kept by the door, his smile completely dead and his face getting red real quick. 

 “Y… You let one go?” he asked. “You- You let one fucking go!?” Cook rounded on Nubbins immediately, switch in hand, hitting him again and again and again, “Do you know what you’ve done!? Do you know what you’ve fucking done!? Everything is gone! Everything! Everything!” Cook yelled, his voice getting hoarse quick. “You dumb fucking idiot! You stupid-” Smack. “Useless!” Smack. “Idiot!” Smack. Cook had beaten Nubbins a lot in his lifetime but never like this- the man was putting his whole body into it. 

“I was doin’ what was best for us! ‘C-Cause of my chances!” Nubbins tried to explain. Everything was falling apart. This wasn’t what his chance was supposed to be- Cook wasn’t supposed to be so mad at him. Things were supposed to go better. 

“Doin’ what was best for us?! Boy- That fucking thing you let go is gonna bring a whole mess of cops down on us! A whole mess of cops and they’re gonna try and- and take you both away! They’re gonna wanna fucking hang us when they find out what we do!” Cook yelled. For a second Nubbins thought he might have a heart attack, like Grandpa did. “You know what I’m gonna have to do?” Cook asked, voice breaking. “You know what you’re gonna make me do?” Nubbins couldn’t understand why he was like this- why he was so mean all the time- why he never listened to him or cared about him more than what he had to to keep him alive. Nubbins was sick of it and angry and tired from all the chances and the dying and he could feel welts forming on his back from how hard Cook had beaten him. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Nubbins stormed into the dining room and he got the hammer. If he had waited just a second, he would have seen that Cook had dropped the switch. If he had waited just a second, he would have noticed that whatever was coming for them now had upset Cook so much he’d actually started to sob. If he had waited a second, maybe they could have gotten through all this. But Nubbins didn’t wait. He chucked that hammer full force at Cook’s head, and realized all those things after the off-white wall behind him was painted red. 

Cook stumbled. Dazed for just a second. Then he fell back. Onto the ground. There was blood. There was so, so much blood. Head wounds bleed a lot. Nubbins knew that from when he was the killer. But it was different when it was family. It was different when it was Drayton. Nubbins made his way over to him carefully. 

“Drayton?” Nubbins asked softly. Bubba stood a few feet from them, too scared to move. Drayton wasn’t getting up. He was blinking real slow. “D-Drayton? Are you okay? I- I didn’t mean to hit you th-that hard,” he said. His older brother looked up at him. His unfocused eyes locked in on Nubbins as best as they could. 

“I… I hate you,” Drayton said, as firmly as he could with his shaky voice. Blood ran freely down his head, dribbling onto his face, darkening all the hair he had. “I… I always knew… From the first time I held you… That you boys would be the death of me… But I… Never woulda thought…” Drayton went still. Limp in a way that just wasn’t right- in a way a living person just couldn’t be. Nubbins was silent. Everything was silent. 

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Nubbins didn’t wanna do this. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. He was sick of chances- he was sick of all this. He was tired, and sick, and now he knew his brother hated him. Even if these chances ended, how was he supposed to deal with that? He crumpled in on himself and took the picture with him, stuffing it promptly in his little bag. 

“Are you alright?” asked the girl who died easier. 

“You look like you seen a ghost,” Franklin said. Nubbins sort of had. He was seeing ghosts all day. But he didn’t care to explain it to these people. He just wanted his big brother. Drayton was mean, and vicious, and hurt him a lot, but he didn’t know any other kind of care, any other kind of love. Nobody else had ever taken care of him. Drayton was all he had. He had to fix this. He had to make this right. 

“I… I… C-can you take me to the gas station?” 

“To the gas station?” asked the floor guy. 

“M-my brother w-works there- he… He works there- at the gas station by uh- on- on the way. It’s- it’s the way you’re goin’, and it’s- it’s the only gas station before Childress- I just-”

“We do need some gas,” said the driver. 

“You think you might could get us a discount?” asked the dead girl. “Since your brother works there and all.” 

“N-no. If I asked he’d really probably charge you more,” Nubbins said, truthfully. A lot of them sort of laughed, and Nubbins felt like he had been flicked on the end of his nose. He didn’t know what was funny to them. If they were laughing with him or at him. He glared at the people in the van, and wanted to hit them or cut them or start throwing some of their stuff. But he needed a ride, so Nubbins would do his best to be good. Or at least good enough to not get kicked out of the van. 

“Yeah, we’ll head that way and drop you off there, shouldn’t be any problem,” the driver said. There was a lull in conversation, and Nubbins was happy with that. Franklin, though, not so much. 

“So uh… Were you just out photographing the slaughter house?” Franklin asked. “Or uh- do you- do you photograph a lot of different things?” Nubbins looked up at him. This was all his fault, somehow. Nubbins didn’t understand why he would do all this. He looked nice. He had thick curly hair, and a nice pair of round lips, and big eyebrows, like a pair of wooly worms on his face. He had a good face. And he was real nice to Nubbins, talking to him and showing him his knife and things like that. And yet Franklin had done this to him- sticking him with these chances. And that wasn’t nice. Nubbins was going to pout and give him the silent treatment for being so mean, but he didn’t like being silent normally, and now the silence was giving room in his brain for pictures of the chances- again and again. He couldn’t deal with that. 

“I uh… I take lots of pictures.” He tried to remember which pictures he could talk about with strangers, and which he could only talk about with family, but Drayton never really made that line clear, because he mostly just said to never talk to strangers. “I uh- I take pictures of my brothers! And uh- I- I take pictures of people I meet. On the road. Oh- And -and of roadkill!” 

“Roadkill?” asked the dead girl. “Why would you wanna take pictures of that?”

“Well uh… Whenever I take pictures of living animals, they don’t turn out so good. Th-they run around and mess it up. Roadkill don’t do that so much.” The driver laughed at that, and then the others, and Nubbins shifted. 

“I guess so, man,” said floor guy. 

“Oh uh! We never really got introduced, uh, I’m Franklin,” Franklin said. “This is Sally, my sister.” That was why those two always came in a pair. They were family. 

“I’m Kirk,” said floor guy. 

“Pam,” said the dead girl. 

“Jerry.” Nubbins actually kind of knew that one, he just didn’t care enough about Jerry to think of calling him that. 

“What’s your name?” Franklin asked. 

“Oh uh… I’m- I’m…” Drayton always told them never ever to tell the victims their real names. Just in case. And Nubbins knew all too well how mad he’d get if he thought the cops were going to come to their house. The welts were gone, and it didn’t hurt, but Nubbins remembered it like it did. “I’m Paul,” he decided. He had been called that a lot as a kid, and the very few times Drayton introduced him to someone outside the family he called him that. That was his name on a lot of papers Drayton filled out too. So, since Nubbins was his real name, he figured that was some kind of alias Drayton had made up for him. Drayton did a lot of things like that. To take care of him. Which made it harder to accept that Drayton hated him. Nubbins didn’t want to accept that Drayton hated him. He got really mad at Drayton sometimes- hated him a little sometimes when he beat Bubba or Chop- but that was different. 

Drayton had used his dying breath to tell Nubbins he hated him. 

Nubbins couldn’t express why, but that was wrong. They were family, and even when they hated each other they loved each other and if Nubbins’ own family didn’t want him, who ever would? Nubbins curled in on himself, and started to fidget, bouncing around nervously and fiddling with his hands, flapping them occasionally, trying to get the sad off him. 

“You alright?” Franklin asked. Like he wasn’t the cause of it all. Nubbins would try and explain the chances to him- but it was all so much, and if he couldn’t even explain it to Bubba and Drayton, he’d never explain it to outsiders. 

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Why not?” Franklin asked. 

“Well m-maybe you would- you got a sister… But… The rest of you- I- I dunno where you come from or if-”

“I got a little brother,” said Kirk. 

“I’m the middle of three girls,” Pam said. 

“Only child,” Jerry said. “But uh- I think I could still understand it.” Nubbins paused. If he said the wrong thing the cops might show up. And if that happened, he knew something awful would happen to his family. But, every time that had happened so far, he got another chance. Nubbins needed to change something to break this loop- he could feel it. So, he tried something new. 

“I uh… I had a r-real bad fight with my brother… And uh… I.. I don’t think he wants me around no more. Maybe he never did,” Nubbins admitted. 

“The brother you’re goin’ to see at the gas station?” Pam asked. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell him you’re with us. Don’t want him chargin’ us more,” Kirk said like he thought he was funny. Nubbins didn’t like this Kirk guy, he decided then. 

“Y-yeah, that brother. He’s… He’s my older brother, b-by a lot. And he had to take care of me, and- and our littler brother and… I think… I think maybe he don’t like me because of that. We had a real bad fight and…” 

“I mean, me and Franklin fight all the time,” Sally said. “And I still like him.”

“He’ll be mad, sure, but he’ll get over it. He has to. He’s your brother.” Nubbins almost smiled. His real situation wasn’t nearly as simple as what he had told them, but maybe it would be alright. Maybe Drayton wouldn’t be mad at him. 

Drayton was mad at him. That kind of made sense. He was supposed to be home watching Bubba. Nubbins and the van crew drove up to the gas station, and Nubbins waved at Drayton from the back seat and Drayton glared daggers into him. As soon as the van was all the way stopped, he yanked open the door. 

“Boy- what are you doing-” Nubbins scampered out, hoping that because they were in front of others Drayton wouldn’t hit him. 

“I- I wanted to t-talk to you.” 

“You’re supposed to be home watchin’ Bubba-”

“I needed t-to talk to you now-” Nubbins said. 

“Boy- I-” Drayton looked at the people in the van, all of whom were staring back at him. Drayton turned to his employee. “You help these folks, we’ll be back,” Drayton said, pulling Nubbins by the arm into the store. He closed the door behind him, then turned to Nubbins sharply, temperamental. “What the fuck is it, boy?” 

“Do you… Do you hate me?” Nubbins asked. 

“Wh- what?” Suddenly Drayton didn’t look so mad anymore. 

“Do you hate me?” Nubbins repeated. 

“What… Why..? You left your brother and came all this way to ask-” 

“W-would your life be b-better without me? Do you… Do you want me around?” 

“Nubbins, what has gotten into you? Who said-”

“Nobody! I-I just-”

“Why would you think that I hate you, then?”

“Wh- ‘Cause you said so!” Nubbins snapped. Drayton paused, looking away for a second, almost scared.

Almost guilty. 

“When?” 

“When I killed you!” Nubbins said. He was really starting to get worked up- overwhelmed with emotion, remembering all too vividly looking down at Drayton’s broken body and knowing that’s all it was- knowing he wasn’t there anymore.  “When I- I hit you with the sledge- I-I hit you ‘cause we were fightin’ and-”

“You came out here to bother me ‘cause you had a bad dream?” Drayton asked. It was a rare occasion, in which he was more confused than he was frustrated. 

“N-no! It’s not- It wasn’t a bad dream- it- it was real-” Drayton swallowed heavily. 

“Oh… Oh shit.” There was a pause. “Nubbins… I…” 

“I’m not m-makin’ it up! It was real- and it wasn’t no dream either-”

“I know. You’re not… You’re not the first one in our family to have a problem like this.” For once Nubbins couldn’t think of anything to say. He was excited, and relieved, and for once actually glad he came to his older brother with a problem. Drayton knew what was going on! He could help! “Momma… You never really got to know her, but Momma had… visions too. She would see things or remember things that to her were completely real but to everyone else-” Of course. Of course Drayton didn’t really believe him. 

“This is real! I’m not- you don’t-”

“I- I know it feels like it-”

“You don’t know nothin’!” Nubbins snapped. He shook his whole body, hard. He wanted to scream or smack Drayton on the head or run out into the road and start biting customers. But he couldn’t do any of that- he was stuck, maybe forever. Maybe he really just died the first time and this was- was some kind of punishment. Nubbins didn’t understand purgatory completely, but he had heard about it, and this sort of felt like that. But he didn’t know what to do about purgatory- if this was that- or what this was- or nothing. Nubbins didn’t know, and no one could help him, and no one would believe him. He felt a prickle in the end of his nose, and then his eyes started to well up with tears, and he got even madder- embarrassed to cry, and embarrassed even more to cry in front of Drayton, who immediately sort of cringed. 

“Oh- oh- uh-” Drayton began. “N-now, don’t you cry, none-” he said, holding up his hands like he was approaching a wild animal. “Nubbins, oh… Nubbins… I…” Nubbins was really crying, and flapping and trying to not feel so fucking awful. Drayton wrapped his arms around him, in an awkward, stilted way. “I… I forgive you.”

“W-what?” Nubbins asked, snapped back into the moment. 

“I forgive you for killin’ me,” Drayton said. “It’s okay. Just uh- don’t do it again.” Nubbins nestled tighter against his brother, holding onto him like he was going somewhere, burying his face in his chest, despite having to curl up to do it. Drayton chuckled kind of nervously and wiggled a bit, but didn’t make Nubbins let go just yet. “And uh… I-I don’t hate you. I shouldn’t have said that.You… You know how people get when they’re dyin’. I mean- heh- re-remember that fella with the face scar who converted to what- five different religions all during one dinner with us?” Drayton asked. Nubbins laughed a little- he remembered that guy well.  He was scared to death of little ol’ Bubba, completely convinced he was in some kind of hell. 

“Y-yeah.” There was a mostly comfortable pause. “Why… Why do people say things like that?” Nubbins asked. Then- “Why do you say things like that?” Drayton cleared his throat, and opened his mouth like he was going to talk, then closed it, then opened it again. 

“I… I just..” Nubbins was emboldened by the chances- emboldened by the knowledge that there was a safety net, and by the fear that this wouldn’t be the last chance he endured. That maybe Drayton would forget all this come next time. 

“You’re… you get real mean when I mess up. More than with Bubba sometimes, and more and more now that Bobby’s gone. W-why? Do you like me less than them?” 

“No- I- Nubbins… I just… I get..” Drayton paused, and looked down at Nubbins as he burrowed into his shirt. “I get scared.” 

“Scared?”

“I get scared that somethin’ bad is gonna happen to you… When you’re with Bobby, I know you two can take care of each other… and Bubba’s always in the house. But you go out wanderin’ around, jumpin’ in strange folks’ cars. I get… It’s fuckin’ stupid, pansy shit, but I get scared for you. Scared somethin’s gonna happen to you and I won’t be able to do nothin’ about it.” Nubbins asked one more thing, one more thing he felt he couldn’t. 

“Do you… Do I make your life worse?” Nubbins asked. “Do you wish I was gone?” “Nubbins… You’re a pain in my ass more often than you’re not but… I mean, you’re my little brother, that’s kind of your job, ain’t it?” Drayton said, pulling back, getting back out of the hug a bit more, and patting Nubbins on the shoulders. Nubbins smiled a little and nodded. “So… Don’t you worry about me not wantin’ you around. You ain’t gonna get rid of me that easy. You’re… You’re a weird boy, but you’re my boy. And I… I… I care about you,” Drayton settled on.  Nubbins balled his fists in Drayton’s shirt and pulled him back to him, bumping his head to Drayton’s chest.

When he was little and he had nightmares he went to Drayton. Even though his big brother was so often the cause of them. He would make his way silently, on unsteady little feet to his brother’s room, and clamber into his bed as best he could, and when Drayton woke up to ask him what was wrong- usually not kindly- he would writhe his way into Drayton’s shirt and lay against his chest. Maybe it was odd, but right there it was dark and warm and no one could see him, and no one could hurt him. He liked that feeling, though he didn’t get it a lot. He liked feeling safe. Drayton stopped letting him do that when he was about six or so, because Nubbins kept biting him when he got anxious. He wished in that moment that he was small again so he could go back there. So he could feel safe, for just a little while. Drayton started fidgeting, and Nubbins had half a mind to hold on tighter, maybe even to bite or cut him. 

“Alright, boy, that’s enough- got work to do-” Drayton said firmly, grasping Nubbins by his shoulders and pulling him away. 

“B-but-”

“No! None of that. Besides- you need to go and watch after Bubba.” 

Oh. Right. 

Nubbins rushed home. He didn’t really give that much of a shit about his responsibility to watch Bubba- Bubba was grown and he could watch himself pretty much fine. He set the house on fire trying to cook Grandpa a birthday cake one time and Drayton just never let him live it down. Nubbins didn’t hold it against him. Everybody set the house on fire a little sometimes. But this time, Nubbins absolutely needed to be there. Because this was a good one, and he needed to make sure it went right. Nubbins went over the other chances again. 

First chance: Franklin died, Sally escaped, and Nubbins died. 

Second chance: Sally died, Franklin died, Grandpa died. 

Third chance: Sally died, Franklin escaped, Drayton died. 

So Franklin couldn’t die. But he also couldn’t escape. 

Nubbins devised another plan. Hopefully a good one. Franklin and Sally would come looking for Jerry, who came looking for Pam and Kirk. But if Nubbins and Bubba could chase Pam and Kirk off the property without killing them, then Jerry would never come so Sally and Franklin would never come either. If they didn’t hurt Pam and Kirk, they wouldn’t have anything to tell the cops, so nobody would come, and the Sawyer family’s lives would all go on unaffected. Franklin wouldn’t be dead, but he wouldn’t escape either. It was fool proof. Or at least Nubbins thought so until he tried to explain it to Bubba. 

Bubba did not like Nubbins’ idea. In part, because it would mean Bubba would have to deal with the wanna-be home invaders on his own. They knew what Nubbins looked like, and while they only knew him as Paul, the less risks he took the better. This chance had to go absolutely perfect. But Bubba couldn’t understand why they didn’t just kill the strangers- they needed more meat anyways. 

“Look- Bubba- You just- you-” Nubbins paused. He had half a mind to hit Bubba on the head and make him do what he said. Nubbins was his older brother, after all, and he and Bobby could always get Bubba to do things. Not as easily as Drayton could, sure, but he could still usually bend Bubba’s will to get his way- especially if he threatened him with a smack. But Nubbins still felt imprints of welts that weren’t there, and the thought of making Bubba hurt  or feel as lousy and dirty he felt then made bile rise up Nubbins’ throat, which burned and melted the threats he considered making right off his tongue. “Bubba, p-please? I- I really need you to d-do this for me. It-it won’t be so hard! And- when you do this real well, maybe Cook will realize you can do stuff on your own again! Maybe when he gets back, y-you an’ me an’ Bobby can go into town again!” Bubba seemed to consider that, playing nervously with his bracelet. “Oh! And- I- I can’t be seen by those strangers- but, I could come and watch you- m-make sure nothin’ bad happens.” 

You promise? Bubba asked. Not in those words, exact, but Nubbins understood. 

“O-oh- of course!” Nubbins said. “I won’t let nothin’ bad happen. That’s what older brothers are for.” 

Pam and Kirk arrived right on time. But, this time, the front door was locked, so Kirk couldn’t wander in like an idiot. Nubbins and Bubba hid outside, in wait. For a second it seemed like Pam and Kirk might just leave. Then Kirk started to fuck around with one of Nubbins’ bone chimes, as the pair sat on the porch. Nubbins and Bubba were close, chainsaw with them, and Bubba had one hand on the starter cord handle, ready to yank it to life. But Nubbins paused, holding out a little hope that the two would just leave and give him an easy ending to his good chance. 

“I really woulda thought- with the generator runnin’ like that, that somebody would be home,” Pam said. 

“Yeah… Maybe we could siphon some gas from it. Get the hell out of this shitty little town.” Nubbins wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. 

“Oh, Kirk. The gas station’ll get some in a few hours, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, then we can go talk to that old weirdo again. You know- I don’t even think he’s out of gas. I think he just wants to murder us and wear our skin… Or make us buy a shitty keychain or something.” Pam laughed. Neither of them made any move to get off their damn porch. 

“He’s not that bad. Neither was Paul, really. Just a bit weird.” 

“Paul? Who’s that?”

“You know- the hitchhiker we picked up.”

“Oh, right, Franklin’s new boyfriend.” 

“Oh, stop it,” Pam said, still laughing. They were laughing. Laughing at him, laughing at his family. They had probably been laughing at him in the car too. If he could slaughter them both, he happily would. But he needed to finish this day without incident so he could be free of the chances and move on. 

“C’mon Bubba,” Nubbins said. “Let’s scare the sh-shit out of ‘em.” The two brothers snuck ever so slightly closer, till they were only a few feet away, hidden by only tree cover. Then Bubba cranked the chainsaw. He ran out at the two. Pam ran like a reasonable person, towards the sunflowers- away from the house. But Kirk just jolted back, breaking Nubbins’ bone chime entirely, and grasping a piece of it. He ran to the door of their house, trying again to break in, and Bubba charged at him, chainsaw over his head, shaking it at Kirk, but certainly not about to kill him with it. Which was why Nubbins didn’t see it coming. Bubba was trying to get Kirk to go past him, but Kirk just wouldn’t. He was yelling something, clutching the broken rib bone he’d stolen tight, but Nubbins couldn’t hear what he was saying. Kirk moved suddenly, and erratically, darting under Bubba’s chainsaw right as he swung it for show, and Bubba slashed him with it accidentally. Kirk screamed, of course, and it made a mess, but Nubbins was sure that Kirk would be fine. 

Kirk didn’t seem to know that. 

He turned, boneshard tight in hand. Nubbins ran out then, knowing something bad was about to happen. But he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Kirk lashed out, hitting Bubba in the neck. Bubba wailed, and dropped the saw, and Kirk sprinted away. Nubbins thought about snagging and killing him before he could escape, but he had to take care of Bubba first. It was his job to take care of Bubba. 

“Y-you’re okay-” he began, sitting down with his brother. And Bubba looked okay. The saw had missed him entirely, he was just hunched over, and clutching where he had been hit in the neck. A good hit to the neck could really hurt- Nubbins and Bobby had learned that the hard way while wrestling with each other. It could bruise real bad too. But it wasn’t too bad of an injury. Nubbins was sure Bubba would be fine. 

Until he looked up. 

Nubbins had never felt sick at the sight of blood before, but then he thought he was gonna spew his lunch. Kirk had stabbed the bone shard in Bubba’s neck. Blood was running down, freely, between his fingers. Bubba was panicking, squeaking and near sobbing and holding his injury as tight as he could. This didn’t have to be it. Nubbins could do something- this was bad, but it wasn’t that bad. They could stitch it up. They could save this. Nubbins could save this. 

He dragged Bubba inside, telling him to keep his hands on it. He cleared off the table in the kitchen, and had Bubba lay down on it. 

“I-it’s gonna b-be okay, B-bubba,” Nubbins promised. “This is- it- it’s just gonna be a scar and a funny st-story one day, okay?” Bubba nodded. Nubbins ran around the house, getting together what he needed. They had fishing line, a needle, and super glue that Drayton usually used to patch the boys up in an emergency. Nubbins just had to find it. He raided every cabinet in the kitchen first, going through every drawer while Bubba whimpered and squeaked. Nubbins found the super glue. But that wasn’t enough. They would need to stitch the wound first, at least Nubbins was pretty sure they would. “I- I’m gonna be right back-” Bubba squealed- “I’m goin’ to C-cook’s room- I’m gonna get the th-thr-thr-th-” He couldn’t get out the word thread- “ the stuff! The stuff to take care of you!” Nubbins ran upstairs, and into Drayton’s room. Drayton would be mad about this, sure, but Nubbins was confident he would understand. There wasn’t much in Drayton’s room. It was one of the cleanest rooms in the house. 

He had his bed, which was made, though his pillow was on the floor, and a little nightstand with a lamp on it that Nubbins had decorated with bone pieces for him. Nubbins started there, opening the drawer of the nightstand. The drawer wasn’t so clean- Drayton must have just chucked everything in there. There were keys to some of the victim’s cars that Drayton had been working on, and  a whole mess of bills, and some of Bubba’s old drawings, and the old bone bracelet Nubbins made for him that he said he had thrown out, and a box of shotgun shells, and Bobby’s draft letter, and a bunch of bottle caps and teeth for some reason. 

Nubbins turned to the only other furniture in the room- his dresser. There were three drawers.What if I can’t find it in time? Nubbins had to shove that thought down. He could do this- Bubba was tough- they were going to be alright.  Nubbins started with the bottom one and found mostly Drayton’s clothes.He heard Bubba cry out downstairs- a sudden, sharp noise. 

“I- I’m comin’, Bubba!” he yelled.  In a panicked hurry, he stopped caring if Drayton knew he went through his stuff. He could cover that up later, or Drayton could find out- none of that mattered as much as helping Bubba. He chucked Drayton’s clothes onto the floor, finding in the drawer one spool of thread, which while not as good as fishing line, Nubbins shoved it into his pocket anyways, just in case. He kept digging through the drawer, up turning the whole thing, and finding not much more of note other than a weird magazine called Blueboy with a shirtless man on it. 

Nubbins leapt up, yanking on the second drawer, but it just wouldn’t open. He pulled again, nearly toppling the whole thing, and snapping off one of the nobs. He chucked the nob across the room and flailed for a second, before continuing, yanking the top drawer open. It was messy too- but Nubbins eyes landed immediately on the old, metal, white lunchbox Drayton stored their medical supplies in. Nubbins yanked it and ran downstairs, quite possibly knocking over the whole dresser in the process. 

“Bubba! It’s- it’s gonna be okay-” Nubbins rounded the corner to the kitchen, holding the medical supplies tight. 

Bubba was sitting up. He had something in his hand. Something bloody, and pale. The bone shard. He took out the fucking bone shard! Bubba’s hands were soaked in blood, his clothes were soaked in blood- everything. He was bleeding out ten times as fast with the shard out. 

“Wh-what the fuck is wrong with you!?” Nubbins snapped. Bubba started babbling- trying to explain. “You leave it in! You’re supposed to leave it in you- you idiot!”Bubba started apologizing and  Nubbins stopped listening. He yanked open the lunchbox, finding the fishing line and needle, and threaded it as quickly as his shaky, panicked hands allowed him to, trying to focus, prinking his fingertips a few times. Then, once it was threaded, he turned to Bubba. Bubba was two shades too pale and rushing for a third. Nubbins moved to his side. “O-okay- you’re gonna take your hand off and-” Bubba did what he said right then and put his hand down, and with no pressure on the wound there was a waterfall of blood. Bubba fell back and Nubbins caught his head, stopping it from hitting the table. Bubba laid on his back, and Nubbins loomed over him, trying to move his shirt and mask and hair out of the way, so he could get a look at the wound. It was so wet it was hard to tell where the slash actually was, and everytime Nubbins cleared off enough blood to see, more poured out. He eventually just had to make an uncertain stab, maybe starting further back than he should have, but definitely closing the wound. Bubba didn’t even make a noise when Nubbins started working, and Nubbins felt sick. His hands shook more and it didn’t help. Nubbins could have cried when Bubba started trying to speak. 

“N-Nuh-Nuhbuhn-” Nubbins. He was trying to say his name. 

“It-it’s okay Bubba. It’s gonna be okay- I’m gonna take care of you. I won’t let nothin’ happen to you- I-I promise-” 

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Then he lost his shit. He threw the picture and then his camera, and then started to flail around in the van and yell. 

“It-s it’s uh- I’m sorry- I’m sorry- it’s not that bad-” Franklin began. 

“I’m sick! I’m sick! I’m sick of this! I’m done! N-no more- no more- no more!” Nubbins yelled. 

“What the hell is going on back there?” Jerry asked. 

“Are you okay? What’s- what are you sick of?” Kirk asked. 

“Don’t talk to me! You- You murderer! I- I try to be nice to you- and you make fun of me and Cook and you kill my little brother-”

“Hey, man, settle down-” Jerry tried. 

“I- I think you got the wrong guy,” Pam began. 

“I don’t! Y-you haven’t done it yet this time, but you did it in my last chance! I- I shoulda killed you!” 

“Woah! Relax!” Kirk said. 

“Do I need to pull over?”

“What do you mean, ‘chances’?” Sally asked. 

“The chances! I’ve- I’ve been having today for- for five days now! Maybe more. And every time it’s the same- you idiots die and then get somebody in my family killed with you!” There was a pause. 

“Is there a psych ward near here?” Kirk asked, trying to be quiet. 

“Could you- could you explain your chances from the top?” Pam asked. Nubbins paused. He didn’t have much to lose, and if he did fuck this up, he could kill all of them and go at it again. 

“I…. I… I keep getting second chances. The first time, I was goin’ through life as usual, and then I got hit on the road and killed. Then I got another ch-chance, startin’ today, here, in the van. It all starts when I say ‘it’s a nice picture’. Each go around starts there. Then I can change stuff throughout the day, but not how it ends up.”

“How does it end up?”

“Somethin’ terrible happens to my family,” Nubbins said. 

“So what’s the part about us all ending up dead too?” Kirk asked. Nubbins paused. If they knew his family was going to murder them all, they probably wouldn’t help. He didn’t have much reason to suspect they could help him, but he was running low on options. So Nubbins decided to stretch the truth a little. 

“You all die. Or most of you do. There’s… there’s a serial killer out here.  Who kills you all, one by one, and then at the end, kills someone in my family. Except last time- wh-when you got my little brother killed!” Nubbins hissed at Kirk. 

“That’s… that sure is somethin’,” Sally said, like Nubbins was stupid. He was getting real sick of these people. 

“Could you… Could you tell us something you couldn’t know?” Pam asked. 

“What?”

“I wanna believe you, but it’s all.. A lot. You could tell us something you know from your chances that you couldn’t know now?”

“Oh… Uh… Your names is Jerry, Pam, Kirk, Sally, and Franklin. Sally and Franklin are brother and sister… Your van is almost out of gas, and you were gonna go visit the ol’ Franklin house that’s ‘round here…. I… I don’t know what else to say, to convince you-” Nubbins looked up at them. All of them except Jerry were staring at each other, looking back and forth. It was Pam who spoke up first. 

“Jerry, how’s the gas?” Pam asked.

“We uh… We are runnin’ low. 

“I think that’ll do it,” Pam said. “So… You’re stuck in a time loop.” 

“A… Time loop?” 

“I think there’s a gas leak in this van,” Kirk said. 

“Kirk- just listen to me on this-”

“Astrology is one thing-”

“How else would this random hitchhiker know so much about us?”

“He knows our names, knows you two are siblings, and he guessed we’re almost out of gas.” 

“And he knows where we’re going,” Sally said. 

“Okay- fine, but maybe you said your last name and he figured that was your grandpa and-”

“I don’t think any of us even told him our first names,” Franklin said. “And our last name is Hardesty. But this Grandpa was on our Momma’s side. His last name was Enright.” There was a pause. 

“This is a lot-”

“I-I mean, you could tell me somethin’ I really couldn’t know, and I could kill us all, and we could try again next time-” 

“Or we could just go with the time loop,” Jerry said. “Save everybody the trouble.” Kirk backed down then. 

“Alright, so, I’ve heard of time loops before, but never really dealt with one. In a lot of stories, time loops are either evil, or kind of benevolent- to punish someone forever or to give you enough chances for you to get it right.” 

“So is my loop evil or- or not evil?” 

“Well that’s the thing. Real time loops aren’t good or evil. They’re personal. Much more likely to occur with malefic planets in retrograde- like Saturn right now- but they’re not necessarily malevolent just because of that connection.”

“Uh… Okay?” That meant approximately nothing to Nubbins, who barely knew Saturn existed at all, much less that it could retrograde or malefic. 

“What have you figured out about your loop? Anything?” 

“Well uhm… I… I think… I’ve noticed that uh… Well, if something bad happens to Franklin, or if he isn’t involved at all- then someone in my family dies real sudden and usually real bad, and the loop starts over.”

“Wh- me?” Franklin asked. “Y-You think I’m tied to all this mumbo jumbo-”

“W- well yeah. It all goes okay until he dies. Or if I try to keep him out of it. If either of those things happens, then someone in my family dies. The- the moment someone in my family dies, it all starts again.” There was a pause. 

“What’s your star sign?” Pam asked. 

“I- I uh… I don’t think I got one.”

“Everybody’s got one,” Franklin argued. 

“I uh- I wasn’t born in a hospital- so maybe- uh-” 

“What day were you born?” Pam asked. Nubbins paused for a second. 

“Wednesday?”

“What day and month?” 

“Wednesday March.” 

“March what?” 

“March the… The 2nd? Or 3rd maybe.” The van group seemed to contemplate that information. 

“You are not a Pisces! There’s no way-” Pam began. 

“Well uh, he is an artist,” Franklin said. 

“And kinda moody,” Jerry added. 

“Emotional,” Sally tacked on. 

“What’s a Pisces?” Nubbins asked. 

“That’s your star sign,” Franklin said. “I’m a Taurus, and Sally’s a Capricorn, Jerry’s a Virgo, Pam’s a Sagittarius, and Kirk is a Leo.” 

“Oh.. W-woah!” Nubbins was going to have to look into this planet stuff after the time loop was over. “C-could you do my twin brother Bobby? I- I know his birthday.” 

“He’s… He’s also a Pisces. You have the same birthday,” Sally said slowly. 

“Oh. Wow!” 

“So… If our hitchhiker is a Pisces and Franklin is a Taurus…” Pam began. 

“Then they’re romantically compatible, great,” Kirk said with a sign. 

“Kirk! Just listen for one second!” Pam said. “This is important.” 

“Okay- okay-” 

“Saturn is in retrograde. Neither of your signs are ruled by Saturn, but your signs make you very compatible… In your first ‘chance’, did you and Franklin make any kind of.. Pact? Like- you promising to come back for him, or promising to see each other again in another life or something? I mean- this one would be kinda weird- but you could have had a blood pact, maybe.” 

“How is that weirder than promising a guy you just met that you’ll ‘meet in another life’?” Kirk asked. 

“Well uh- with blood pacts, you would both have to, well, drink each other's blood, in some way. Or at least get some of it in your mouths.” Nubbins grinned at that, uncontrollably. He and Franklin had swapped blood- for sure. Nubbins left his blood on Franklin’s knife, and Franklin left his on Nubbins’. And Nubbins had licked Franklin’s blood off his knife, when their van had disappeared on the horizon after they kicked him out. Just to try him. To taste him. But Nubbins never would have guessed Franklin had done the same. It made Nubbins feel a lot of things- excited and jittery and most of all special. He knew he and Franklin would have got along good if they could have- he liked Franklin when he first met him, before all the chances. And now that he knew for sure Franklin hadn’t done all this on purpose, he felt okay liking him again. 

“What’s funny?” Kirk asked. 

“N-nothin’. And uh- I think- I think we had a blood pact.”

“From… From when you cut yourself with my knife?” Franklin asked. 

“Y-yeah! And uh- from- from later too.” 

“Hm… Alright…” Pam started looking through her book. 

“There’s no damn way you’ve got information about time loops in that little book,” Jerry said, looking back, trying to get a peek. 

“Pam, what does this all mean?” Franklin asked. “What do we do? Are we stuck like this forever?” Pam closed her little book. 

“Alright. So. Franklin, you and uh-” Pam looked at him. 

“Uh- Nubbins.” 

“Nubbins?” Sally asked. “What kind of name is that?” 

“Wh- M-my name!” Nubbins snapped. 

“Alright, alright!” Pam snapped. “Look- Franklin, you and Nubbins are, well, star-crossed. Bound together by fate, but in a really bad way. As far as I can tell, in order for you to break this loop, you two need to make it to the end of today alive, but also together. Whenever it becomes impossible for that to happen, the time loop is reset through the death of someone you care about. I think… I think if we stick together, we can avoid the serial killer and all stay alive,” Pam said. Nubbins looked at the kids in the van, and thought real hard about it for a minute. The only one he really liked any was Franklin. Pam wasn’t so bad, but he wanted Kirk dead, and his family could really use some meat, so Sally and Jerry would have to go too. Maybe Pam too. He didn’t mind losing Pam. He knew if they stuck all together, the four he wanted to die would find some way to stay alive. And that just wouldn’t do. Nubbins was doing this his way. 

“Franklin,” Nubbins began. The other man turned towards him, smiling. He was real cute. Nubbins was glad he got to keep him. “Sorry about this. I-I promise I’ll be real good to you next time!” Nubbins yanked his knife free from his boot and lunged at the other man, cutting his throat three or four times before Kirk could get him off of him. Everyone in the van was screaming. Nubbins wondered which of his family members would die this round. And got his answer quick when Jerry leaned over trying to see what was going on and swerved the van in front of an oncoming semi. 

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. “But uh- You- you a real nice guy, so you can have it for free.” Franklin’s eyes lit up just a little as Nubbins handed him the photo. 

“Oh uh- thank you!” 

Nubbins had a plan. 

This time he was getting it right. It would be easier to control what was going on with Franklin if he stayed with him. So he would find a way to stay in the van. Say or do literally whatever he had to in order to stay with them. Then, he would make sure the others died off as planned, but keep Franklin away from the house until he was confident it was safe enough. Then he would go home, convince Drayton to let him keep Franklin, and escape the time loop forever! 

Simple enough. 

The first step was being charming enough to get the people in the van to let him come with them. Which he was entirely confident he could do. He already knew nobody but Franklin would like the meat talk. But they all seemed to like art. 

“So uh- Y-you like art?” Nubbins asked. 

“Uh.. yeah?” Kirk said. 

“Oh! Pam’s an artist,” Sally added. 

“M-me too!” Nubbins said. “I- I used to be the killer- at the slaughterhouse- but uh- after the layoffs- I- I started doing art.” 

“Oh- that’s cool,” Pam said. “Are you a painter or…?” They might not like what I actually do. 

“I do sculptures,” Nubbins said. “Oh- And I take pictures!” 

“Oh yeah, what of?” Jerry asked. 

“Jus’ uh- stuff around here. Like the slaughterhouse, and old cars, and my family. Oh- and uh- roadkill.”

“Roadkill?” Pam asked, crinkling her nose. 

“Y-yeah- I tried to get pictures of livin’ animals, but they run away too fast. Don’t have that problem with roadkill.” Jerry laughed first, again, and then the others. It was nice to be able to be funny on purpose this time. 

“So uh- where were you goin’, man?” Jerry asked. 

“Well uh… I was just kind of goin’ back and forth around here. Uh- gettin’ pictures. Say- uh- where are you goin’?” 

“Well, we were gonna go check out our Grandpa’s old house. It’s around here somewhere,” Sally said. 

“Oh! C-can I go with you?” 

“Well -” Franklin started with a smile, and that glint in his eyes. He was gonna say yes. Nubbins could feel it. But as he turned and looked at the others, who were uncertain, he hesitated. “Uhm..” 

“I mean-”

“We’ll be in a hurry to get out of here after that-” Nubbins tried really, really hard to look harmless, but whatever face he was making did not help at all in gaining the trust of the van-goers, who started all trying to make excuses more rapidly. Drayton was always good at getting people’s trust, and getting them to come home with him. Nubbins didn’t know how he was so good at it. Nubbins tried to think of what Drayton might do. 

The first thing that came to mind was fake a heart attack, but that wouldn’t really help in his current situation. Plus that usually worked on men more than women. And the people who wanted him out of the van were a mix of both. Franklin liked him. Jerry and Sally seemed the least determined either way. He didn’t think he could get Kirk to like him, or want him there. But he did think Pam could make him be nice. So Nubbins thought about what Drayton did to lure women. Which was either finding lonely, recently divorced or widowed women his age and inviting them to dinner, or acting really really pathetic and sad. 

“I uh… I just don’t wanna be alone t-today. Is all,” Nubbins began. “M-my twin brother got drafted a while ago and… and today is our birthday… And uh,” Nubbins sniffled for dramatic effect. “We- we got the letter today. That.. That Bobby won’t come home- and I- I just don’t want- I- I won’t be in your hair too long- my older brother is at work today and- I- I wanna be there when he gets home- so- so I can tell him but… I don’t.. I don’t wanna be there right now.” 

“Oh my God,” Pam said.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jerry said. 

“Oh- Of course you can stay with us,” Franklin said, before the others could object. Sally looked fit to hit him over the head about it, but she didn’t. Probably because they had company. 

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that. Man,” Kirk said. 

“It’s.. It’s… It ain’t easy. But… I-I’m gonna be okay.” 

“Is… Is that why you did that?” Franklin asked, gesturing towards his hand. 

“Huh?”

“Is that why you cut yourself like that?” Franklin asked. 

“Oh uh- k-kinda. It… it feels good. Wh-when you get hurt real bad sometimes your body gives you a- a little jolt! And it hurts. I-I kinda like the way it hurts too.I- I could do it again and show you, if you’d like!” Everybody said no at once, and then-

“If you’re gonna come with us, you have to stop doing that,” Sally said. 

“Yeah, you’re okay so long as you’re not doing anything crazy,” Kirk added. Nubbins narrowed his eyes a little, but didn’t say anything. 

“Oh- uh- okay.” 

“Let’s talk about something else,” Pam said. 

“Well, uh- Wh-What’s your star sign?” Nubbins asked. Pam’s eyes lit up and something in Kirk died. 

“Hey uh- pal, we’re runnin’ low on gas, do you know if there’s any gas stations around here?” Jerry interrupted. 

“Oh! Y-yeah, there’s- there’s one up this way a little ways.” They went to the gas station, and Nubbins laid flat in the back, against the door, while the girls got out to get barbeque and cokes. Jerry and Kirk talked a little to Drayton, and Franklin just looked down at Nubbins, smirking a little, but not saying anything. Nubbins broke into a grin too. Hiding from his big brother, trying not to snicker too much, it felt like a game. Nubbins wondered what it would be like to keep Franklin. If they would keep playing games like this together.They would have to keep him for that day, of course, but after all that was about to happen, they couldn’t just let him go. They should, logically, just slaughter him after the time loop was over. But Nubbins was lonely. He had been since Bobby got drafted. And even though Bobby would be back one day, probably soon, Nubbins still sort of wanted someone around. Someone new. And Franklin was new, and nice, and if he tried to get away they could take his wheels off so he’d have to stay with them. He was perfect. Their stars were aligned, like Pam said. 

Nubbins just had to convince Drayton of it. 

They went to the ol’ Franklin house with no more gas. Drayton told them they didn’t have any, which meant he wanted something with the van group. Usually it was his way of stranding folks nearby, so the Sawyers could ambush them and pick them off. But Nubbins knew these idiots were going to come right to them. He had to keep his excitement inside. Everything was going perfect. 

Nubbins stayed in the van, curled in a ball near Franklin’s feet, until Jerry opened the sliding door, and Nubbins skittered out, quickly. Jerry jumped back a little at that, but Nubbins didn’t pay his concern any mind. Jerry would only be alive a few more hours anyways. Nubbins looked around the old house. It was weird. He had been there before, of course, putting up some of his not-as-good art, worried that if Drayton saw it he might take it down. But it was different being invited, and different to see the people who lived there actually there. 

Nubbins had heard vaguely of the Hardesty-Enrights before. Grandpa didn’t like them much, but Grandpa didn’t like anyone to be close enough to see through binoculars. That was why he moved out to Newt- to get away from people. And it had just about worked before ol’ Franklin Enright decided to settle in. Grandpa complained about him a lot, and Drayton complained about his son Lefty a lot, so Nubbins had never really tried to make friends with the kids across the field. They were weird anyways- the whole family just up and left their Grandpa in the old house, coming by sometimes, but leaving him alone most of the time. Nubbins just couldn’t understand why anybody would do that. He would never leave Grandpa alone like that. That was probably why their Grandpa was dead and his wasn’t. 

That, and his general learned distrust of outsiders, had put Nubbins off the Hardestys before he even knew any of them. He wondered, maybe, if he hadn’t listened so well, if he and Franklin could have been buddies. He bet Franklin and Bobby would have been good buddies too. Nubbins turned, and went back to Franklin. The others had set some planks out so he could wheel out of the van, and then run off somewhere. 

“Oh hey. I thought you ran off with everybody else,” Franklin said. 

“Me? Nah. Wh-where did everybody go?” 

“Inside I think,” Franklin said. He was munching on a sausage Drayton had sold them, and he started to wheel towards the house. Nubbins followed close, looking down at him. 

“Y-you like that meat?” Nubbins asked. It was a good sign that Franklin already liked their food, since Nubbins had already decided in his head he was keeping him. 

“Oh, yeah- you uh- you want some?” Franklin asked, offering the sausage to him.

“Oh- uh- no, we got more at home.” 

“Huh?”

“That guy at the station, the old man, he’s my brother- he- he cooks that meat himself. We got more at home.”

“Oh… That’s why you were avoidin’ him.” 

“Yeah. Cook’s no fun, doesn’t let me do nothin’.”

“Cook?”

“Oh uh-that’s- that ain’t his name, that’s just what we call him. Like my little brother is Bubba, and uh- sometimes they call me Paul.” 

“Paul? What’s Paul short for?” Franklin asked. “Or is it your middle name or..?”

“My name’s Nubbins. D-don’t tell the others.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I don’t like them as much as you.” Franklin laughed at that. “You’re weird, Nubbins.” 

“Oh uh… Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I like it. I never met somebody like you.” Franklin rolled to the door, but hit some kind of beam in the floor, and had to rock his chair back and forth a few times to get over it. He met the same struggle getting into the living room, and Nubbins waited, fidgeting, not sure what he should do. The only person Nubbins had known to stay in a chair like that was Grandpa. He and Bubba just picked Grandpa up and moved him wherever he needed to go. But Franklin rolled himself around. So that seemed strange. Nubbins would probably roll Franklin when he kidnapped him later, but at the moment it didn’t feel right. Nubbins could hear laughter, echoing from upstairs. He ran up the first few steps, then looked back down at Franklin. 

“Uh… How do you get upstairs?” Nubbins asked. 

“I don’t,” Franklin said flatly. 

“Wh- but… They’re upstairs.” 

“Yeah. They… They pro’lly either forgot or…” 

“Oh well uh- I- I’ll be right back,” Nubbins said. He ran up the stairs, quickly pinpointing the laughter. He burst in the room and most of them jumped. 

“Oh, hey,” Pam said. “What’s uh- what’re you doin’?” 

“You uh- you forgot Franklin.”

“Huh?” Sally asked. 

“He’s downstairs. And- and he’s got that chair- so he can’t get up.” 

“Well,” Jerry said. “Yeah.”

“So uh… Let’s go downstairs.”

“We were just lookin’ around up here,” Kirk began.

“Yeah, I wanted to show everybody my old room,” Sally said. 

“I’m sure Franklin will be fine ten minutes alone,” Kirk finished. 

“Oh… Did.. Did Franklin have a room?” 

“Well, yeah, Grandpa always let him stay down the hall-”

“How’d he get up then?” 

“Well- when he was little Grandpa would carry him up. It was a lot easier when one of our uncles-”

“Oh! Uh! Well, me and Bubba carry our Grandpa up the stairs all the time. Franklin’s a bit bigger-”

“You can say that again,” Kirk said. Nubbins didn’t understand his comment, but he didn’t like it either. 

“Well uh- with me, and you, and Jerry, we could probably-”

“Look, man,” Kirk began, putting a hand on Nubbins’ shoulder, not unlike how Drayton did sometimes. “We know Franklin can’t get up here. That’s kind of the whole point.” 

“Huh?”

“He’s fine, right now. Alone. We’ll go and talk with him in a minute. We’d just all like some time away from him for a little while. I mean- if you’d been in the van with him as long as we had, you’d wanna strangle him too.” 

“Nuh-uh!” Nubbins snapped, slapping Kirk’s hand off him like it was a spider web. “I- I like Franklin.” 

“I mean, I’m his sister, I like him too,” Sally began. “He’s just a bit… Much sometimes.”

“Whiny,” Kirk said. “So damn whiny.” 

“He’s… He’s real talkative,” Pam said. “Too much, sometimes.” 

“I mean… I think he’s okay,” Jerry added, awkwardly. Nubbins couldn’t understand this. Why did they even bring Franklin with them if they didn’t like him? Why did Sally just let those outsiders talk bad about her brother like that? Even Drayton wasn’t that mean. Whenever an outsider said something bad about Nubbins, or Bobby, or Bubba, Drayton would stand up for them, and tell the outsider he hoped their baby got cancer, or something normal like that. 

“You… You’re a bad sister.” 

“I- excuse me?” 

“You’re a bad sister! You- you just let them be mean to him! Y-You shouldn’t let nobody else talk bad about your brother. Jus’ family gets to! You’re a bad sister!” None of them could think of a response to all that, and Nubbins was done talking with them, so he blew a raspberry at them and left the room, stomping down stairs. 

“So… I guess they didn’t forget,” Franklin said, kind of softly. 

“Well uh… They.. They said-”

“I heard most of that. You don’t talk quiet.” There was a pause. 

“I- uh- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re… You’re one of the only people who’s stood up for me in a long, long time.” 

“Oh.” Nubbins heard footsteps, slinking down the stairs. He expected it would be Sally- that was kind of how Drayton slunk around after he said something he shouldn’t have. Nubbins expected some kind of apology. But it was his least favorite van goer. Kirk. 

“Hey uh.. Franklin, you know where that old swimmin’ hole is?” 

“Huh?”

“Me an’ Pam were thinking of going down there. Gettin’ out of the house a little.” 

“Oh yeah- uh- it’s just down the hill,” Franklin said. Nubbins considered doing that thing Drayton hates- where he wedges his whole body in the staircase so he can’t get past him, but he had a good feeling about Kirk’s little swimming trip. Nubbins moved aside, and let Kirk and Pam slink past. Nubbins couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped him as they slipped through the door. “What’s so funny man?”

“N-nothin’. I- I just got a good feelin’,” Nubbins said. 

Nubbins’ good feeling lasted all night. The Hardesty siblings didn’t seem to share it as the night went on though. Kirk and Pam didn’t come back. Nubbins knew why, but said nothing. Jerry went looking for them. And he didn’t come back either. Now there was only one more to go. 

“I guess… they’re probably lost,” Franklin said softly. 

“It’s… It’s gettin’ too late. We should go and look for them,” Sally said. 

“What if we get lost too?” 

“We’ve got the flashlight, we’ll be fine,” Sally said. 

“We- we should got to the gas station and get help,” Franklin said. “Your brother works at the gas station, don’t he?” 

“Well uh- y-yeah- but I don’t know how much help he’d be.”

“Well the gas station’s got a telephone, right? We could call somebody-”

“Oh uh, it don’t got a phone.” That was answer enough for Sally. 

“Franklin, let me see the flashlight. I’m gonna go look for them.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sally,” Franklin said, hugging the flashlight to his chest. 

“Franklin, just give me the flashlight-”

“You really ought not to go-”

“Franklin!” 

“Franklin, i-it’ll be alright,” Nubbins said. “I’ll be here with you. A-and Sally can go look for ‘em!” Franklin still didn’t give up the flashlight. 

“Sally, I’ve got a bad feelin’. I-I don’t want anything happening to you either-” 

“Fine- I’ll go without it-”

“Wait- Sally- we could come with you-” 

“Jus’ give her the flashlight,” Nubbins said. “S-so she’s safe!” 

“No! Something terrible is about to happen and I just know it!” Franklin said. “Something terrible already happened- and now- I just-” 

“Franklin, you can’t stop me from going. You can only choose whether I’ve got the flashlight or not.” Franklin looked down at the light in his hands, and for a moment something like grief crossed his face. 

“Oh… Okay,” Franklin said, handing Sally the flashlight. “Be careful.”

“I will.” 

It was quiet. Everything was quiet, for a while. That made Nubbins nervous, and he started to fidget around. 

“Do you think… Do you think she’s okay?” Franklin asked. “I- I just changed the battery in that flashlight- it’s- it’s a good battery. I think it could last like- like thirteen years. I don’t think she ran out of battery.”

“Me neither,” Nubbins said. “It-it’ll be okay. Everything’s gonna be right like it should be.” Then, they heard a scream. The horrified, agonized scream of one Sally Hardesty. And the deep, low purr of the chainsaw. Nubbins couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oh my God- Sally! That was- that was Sally!” 

“Yeah it was!” Nubbins said. Then he started pushing Franklin. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“Takin’ you home for dinner!” 

Nubbins set everything up nice. He and Bubba went and got Grandpa, and brought him downstairs. They set Franklin at the dinner table, and put bricks around his wheels so he couldn’t go anywhere. Nubbins even set the table. He made sure everything looked perfect, and nice, and just right like Drayton liked it. Because that night he had a big ask. Nobody had ever gotten to keep an outsider before. The closest Nubbins had ever even heard of that was Momma having her boyfriends, but they ate most of them. Drayton had some kind of something with an outsider when he was a lot younger, but that all fell apart and it just made Drayton meaner. If Nubbins had to guess, Grandpa probably made Drayton eat his Franklin. That would make Nubbins a lot meaner too. Nubbins didn’t want that- couldn’t afford that fate. So he had to make sure every little thing was perfect. And, just as a backup, Nubbins slipped up to Drayton’s room and got that magazine with the shirtless man on it from his dresser. That way, if Drayton refused to let him keep Franklin, Nubbins could threaten to show Grandpa his magazine until Drayton realized Franklin should stay. Nubbins headed out of the kitchen, back into the dining room, where Bubba was trying to introduce himself to Franklin. 

“Oh God- Oh Lord- Please- Please don’t eat me-” Bubba tried to sooth him in his pretty lady voice, but for some reason that didn’t help. 

“It’s okay! We ain’t gonna eat you. You’re stayin’ with us!” Nubbins tried to explain. 

“What? Why- I- I like you, but I don’t wanna stay here- I wanna go home-”

“It’s real nice here. You like meat! And head cheese. We can have meat for dinner every night-”

“My family is gonna come lookin’ for me- m-my uncle’s a cop! He’ll come lookin’ and then-”

“Then we gonna eat him,” Nubbins said, flatly. 

“No! Oh God- Please- I- If you let me go, I won’t tell nobody- I won’t tell nobody nothin’!” Their conversation was interrupted by Drayton’s truck pulling up to the house and then-

“Boys! Come out here and help me with this-” Nubbins ran out to help Drayton first, determined to be in his good graces. Sally was with him, which was a surprise. She was bleeding all over the bag he had her in, and thrashing like she was dying, which helped Nubbins connect the dots. “Did your brother get all those kids?”

“Yeah! We got all of ‘em!” Drayton nodded sternly, then the two brothers worked to drag Sally back in. 

“Oh my God- Sally!? They got you too-” Sally was put at the head of the table and strapped down. 

“Oh wow, a bonus body! And you set the table,” Drayton said, happy for a second before his voice went flat. “What do you want?” 

“What?” 

“I know you want somethin’. You ain’t nice like this if you don’t want somethin’.” 

“Well, uh a little bit.” With Sally tied down, thrashing and screaming, Nubbins and Drayton stood up. Nubbins tried to keep his back straight, to give an air of authority, or at least of confidence. “This one is Franklin,” Nubbins said, pointing to him. “And we’re keepin’ him.” 

Drayton laughed in his face. 

“You’re funny, boy-”

“I mean it.” 

“You… You mean it?” Drayton was getting mad. 

“Yeah. W-we’re keepin’ him.” 

“You think you call the shots around here now- you think you can just bring home a random stranger and expect him to get fed and looked after and-”

“Did I stutter?” 

“I mean, yes-”

“Not that way! Like- like in the tone way not the-”

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Drayton said darkly. Then he paused. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want him? We’ve had hundreds through here- slaughtered and killed- and you ain’t given any of ‘em pause. Why him? Why’s he special?” Nubbins was half surprised he even got the chance to explain it. But now, he knew he would get his way. Once Drayton understood what Franklin was like, he wouldn’t just let him stay- he would want him to stay. 

“He-he’s real nice, and he likes my pictures! Of the slaughterhouse- he- he liked hearing about the slaughterhouse, and he likes your cookin’ and he’s funny and he likes the way I am and- and he’s got a good face and a good laugh and I like him!” Nubbins said. “Oh! And our stars line up! They- they line up good. He’s a- a uh… A Taurus! And I’m a Piscese- and that’s- that’s good together-” 

“Oh. So that’s how it is,” Drayton said. His voice was level. But not in a good way. In a way that made Nubbins feel like static was going across his skin. Nubbins, Bubba, Sally, and Franklin were all quiet, fixed on Drayton, waiting for his response. It felt like even Grandpa was holding his breath. “Well… I ain’t havin’ you two fudgepackers in this house!” Drayton snapped. “So if that’s how it is- you can- you can up and leave!” Nubbins knew Drayton didn’t mean that- he had this talk with him before, in another time.

“Well- if that’s how it is, you’re gonna have to leave with us!” Nubbins said, way more confident and mocking than he had any right to be, pulling the magazine out from its hiding place in his pants pocket and slapping it down on the dinner table for everybody to see. “I found this in your dresser!” The magazine, as if on cue, fell open to a picture of an entirely naked man. Drayton was staring down at the table like Nubbins just slapped a bouquet of live rattlesnakes down on it. 

“Boy-” 

“I-I know you worry about me- and- and you worry somethin’ will happen to me- and I guess this doesn’t make that better but- I-if you let him stay I promise I’ll be good and I’ll- I’ll stay by the house more. I- I promise. And- And I can help more with dinner and stuff- and takin’ care of Grandpa- and- and I bet Franklin could be real good at lurin’ people in! He- he already offered to bring his uncle here!” 

“Franklin!” Sally snapped. 

“I did not!” Franklin began. 

“Shut up!” Drayton snapped, “All of you!” Drayton bounced nervously back and forth. He was considering it. Nubbins started to smile. He was really considering it! He looked up at Franklin, who sat there quietly, scared and sweaty, but polite. “Fine,” Drayton said. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Nubbins started to jump around the table in joy. 

“But don’t ever ask me to keep another one! And if this boy brings us any legal trouble- so help me God-” 

“We get to keep Frankie! We get to keep him!” Nubbins said, taking Bubba’s hands, and starting to dance with him. 

“Listen, I’m gonna tell you what I was gonna tell him, and then you tell him all that-” Drayton started telling Franklin. 

“Oh- Okay-” Franklin said, pressed back into his chair as flat as he could. 

“W-Wait-” Sally said. “Wh-what about me?” 

“Oh,” Drayton said. “We’re still eatin’ you.” 

The next part was familiar, but new. Nubbins got a light brooming for going into Drayton’s room, and was told to put that magazine back where he found it. He did, and came back down to a blissful dinner scene. Sally was screaming her lungs out, thrashing at the chair, eyes glazed over in an odd way. Franklin was screaming too, trying to say something to her, trying to calm her down maybe. Drayton was chasing Bubba around, telling him to go get dinner, and threatening him with the broom. All in all, it was perfect. Dinner went the same as it did the first time, except with Franklin there. Nubbins was surprised by how upset he was about his sister dying, considering what a bad sister she was, but Franklin had genuinely screamed and sobbed until his voice was raw and he couldn’t physically cry anymore. Nubbins looked at his family, at Bubba, and Grandpa, and then over to Drayton. Drayton bounced and clapped and cheered as Grandpa hit her, again and again. Nubbins thought about holding him. About his limp, lifeless body. And Nubbins understood. He gently, quietly put his hands over Franklin’s eyes, so he wouldn’t have to watch, or think about it. Then, suddenly, quickly, Grandpa dropped the hammer, and Sally wriggled up and out- running for the door. 

“Holy shit- get her boys!” Drayton yelled. Bubba raced for the door, chainsaw quickly in hand, and Nubbins followed. Drayton was slow, and no good at killing anyways, so he hung back. 

Nubbins remembered this morning. 

His blood was pumping, as he ran after her. 

He knew he was alive. 

Nubbins chased her. Played his part. She was slower this time, Bubba had slashed her good once with the chainsaw- and while it hadn’t killed her, hitting her shoulder, it had bled her enough that she couldn’t outrun Nubbins for even a second. He could probably kill her in the driveway. But he had a plan- a feeling, really. He knew what to do. She screamed and he laughed, chasing, slicing, all again. It was still fun, sure, though it was different the second go round. She once again deftly dodged the cattle guard. Just barely. Then stumbled out into the road. Nubbins followed, careful, counting the seconds, trying to remember exactly how many cuts he got in. 

One. Two. Three-four. Five- And then he jumped back. Lept away from her like she’d burned him. Sally looked up, agony and confusion on her face. For just a second before the truck hit her. It was a pretty gruesome death, Nubbins had to admit. A lot worse on the outside than in it. But, regardless, as he watched it, he started to laugh. Nubbins corralled Bubba, back, into the bushes, out of the line of sight of the driver, who was wailing and crying and doing his best to resuscitate her. Nubbins knew from experience she was already gone. The two brothers headed back towards the house. 

Drayton stood outside, not exactly content. Nubbins walked up with a grin, whipping the blood from his knife onto his pants. 

“Did you get the bitch?” Drayton asked. 

“She g-got hit by a truck!” Nubbins said. “The d-driver thinks he killed her. No cops comin’ our way this time.” Drayton nodded. “W-wait!” 

“What now?” 

“Could you… Would you help me lie to Franklin about her?” 

“What?”

“Jus’- I’m gonna tell him she run off. Left him behind.” Drayton chuckled and shook his head. 

“You really care about this whole thing with him, huh?” Drayton asked. Nubbins nodded. “Well… I won’t fuck it up for you. Just… Be prepared if this whole thing don’t work out.” 

A day went by. Then two. Then three. Then a week. Nubbins had dreams, more often than not. Echoes of the loops- of what happened to his family in each one, or of being stuck in the loop again. The first few days had been nerve wracking- Nubbins still felt every minute like he would end up back in the loop, trapped again. But as time went on, he started to accept that he wasn’t. He had expected something big to happen- some kind of message from the stars. But life just carried on. Like it had before the whole thing had happened. 

Franklin was distraught. Scared that Sally would leave him, insistent that his sister was going to get help- that someone would come- that Sally still cared, that his parents still cared, that his cop uncle would turn up eventually. But they didn’t. And Franklin sort of seemed to lose hope. That made Nubbins worried too. Franklin was so sad all the time, and not eating much, and not doing much either. He was still like Grandpa, still like he wasn’t alive no more, even though he was. Nubbins took another picture of him, and he stuck it to the wall, with the pictures of the rest of his family, hoping that Franklin would get the hint- that he was with them- that he was one of them. But Nubbins wasn’t sure it was helping. 

Till one day, at the end of the week, he heard a familiar mechanical snap. He had been trying to help Bubba scoop up the chicken feathers- one of the many stupid little chores Drayton made him do so he could keep Franklin. Drayton kept giving him chores like that, and Nubbins kept doing them, even though he was confident there was no bite behind Drayton’s bark. Drayton said he was gonna cook up Franklin if Nubbins was bad, but Nubbins wouldn’t kill Franklin, and Bubba wouldn’t, and Drayton was never any good at killing- so there would be no one to do it. It was a hollow threat. But Nubbins wanted his brother to be happy, so he was doing that one anyways. Until he heard that noise and then looked up. Franklin was in his chair, holding Nubbins’ camera. Nubbins looked up at him with naked surprise. 

“You… You took my picture,” Nubbins said. Franklin examined the picture as it came out, an unreadable but near pleasant expression on his face. 

“It’s a nice picture,” he said. Nubbins swallowed heavily. “Or at least I think it is. I’m- I’m not a photographer like you-” Nubbins went over to him, cautiously. “I just- uh- there’s- there’s photos of everybody but you- so I thought-” Nubbins grabbed the picture from Franklin’s hands, not noticing entirely when he flinched a little. There were a lot of ways the picture could probably technically be better. But it was real and honest. 

“It’s a real nice picture,” Nubbins agreed. He laughed as he started hanging it on the wall, and for the first time, Franklin laughed with him.

group hug in the shower boyss

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THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE (1974)

So I finally posted my Franklin/Nubbins fanfiction, lol. Shout out to the three or so people who might enjoy it, I just had fun writing, even if I’m not confident! I wasn’t so sure about tagging, but there are allusions to violence and animal death, the kind you’d see in the movie.