Stitch

In honor of Halloween, I give you a short story called “Stitch” about a costume being made for a costume ball.

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

The old woman sits in her musty smelling sewing room, putting together her son’s costume for the ball. He’ll look quite dapper, she thinks as she smiles. The needle sticks a bit and she tugs gently to pull the thread through the delicate material.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

The second floor room is filled with sunlight. No one can look in, therefore the drapes are open wide and the sun streams in uninterrupted. There are dust motes dancing about, as her son will undoubtedly dance tonight at the ball. She smiles as she thinks of him in the tuxedo, dancing with his favorite girl, as the music urges them to continue.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

She’s almost done now. She’s been working on this for a while, almost a week. It’s nearly perfect. The final touches will have to wait until he tries it on.

“Mom? I’m home!” Thomas calls from downstairs.

Agnes doesn’t respond. Her voice no longer carries, but he knows this and will come up. The front door slams and a moment later, she hears hurried footsteps on the stairs. He comes into the sewing room, her favorite room in the house and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“I can smell dinner from a mile away, mother. Thank you.”

She lifts her head and smiles to him. “Anything for you, dear.”

She indicates the costume on the large round wooden table. The table has been in the family for generations. Many costumes have been made on it. He looks down and his eyes open wide.

“Mother! It’s…”

“Not finished yet. You’ll need to try it on.”

“How did you get the height? Randy’s shorter than I am.”

The old woman carefully gets up from the table, and gently stretches the costume out to show him everything. She uses cautious movements to make sure not to rip the fragile material. She stops at the legs and traces delicate stitching on the skin. It’s obvious it’s from two different hides.

“I had to add some extra.” She looked up at him. “We need to make sure it fits. I haven’t finished stitching it all closed.”

He reached out and touched where the two skins met. It was a close match, but one was hairier than the other. “Who did you use?”

“Vagrant, but don’t worry, I washed everything before the kill. You won’t catch anything from wearing it.”

“Who helped you?” Thomas knew she was too weak to skin someone herself.

“Your brother came up from the city. He’s having trouble finding a job and needs the meat. He has five mouths to feed.”

Thomas nodded as he looked down at the face of the costume. Randy was shorter than Thomas, but height didn’t matter. Thomas was smarter, more determined, and his mother made great costumes. Thomas knew he would win Jasmine’s affection tonight, he was sure of it. The height wasn’t that much of an issue. He could say he was wearing tall shoes. Once he won Jasmine’s affections, they could laugh about the costume. It would be their first date, their first laugh. He smiled at his mom.

“I can’t thank you enough, mom.”

“Oh, nonsense. Try it on and see how it fits.”

Grinning like a schoolboy, he stripped and sat in the chair. Agnes took a small bottle of spirit gum from her sewing basket and moved it closer to his chair. She helped him put on the skin, making sure each toe went into the right place. The heel was left open, to help the skin fit. Agnes ran her finger down the stitching on the bottom of the foot.

“I had to put the stitch here.”

He smiled in pleasure. “I like when you do. I can feel it when I walk. I like the reminder.”

“Stand up and I can help you with the rest of it.”

He did as told, and she placed her hands on either side of his left leg, carefully pulling the skin up his calf. Agnes placed little dabs of spirit gum on the costume to help it stay in place. She made sure the skin fit correctly, then moved to the right leg. He carefully took the edges of the costume between his legs and adjusted his genitals. A little spirit gum made sure the costume didn’t flap open. He wished wistfully that the costume included all of Randy’s parts. Some skin was too delicate to include.

Piece by piece, Agnes moved up his body, moving her hands lovingly over the costume, making sure it didn’t snag and didn’t bunch, adding spirit gum as needed. It fit him well. She measured him every six months, even if she wasn’t making him a costume.

Once the costume was high enough on his torso, she helped him slip into one arm, then the other. As she was adjusting the left hand, he looked at the right. Randy had a birthmark on his right hand. It was large and obvious. The red wine stain was still there, and it looked like Agnes did a fine job in hiding the extra skin on the hands.

She saw him looking and smiled. “His back has the mark too. I took some of his skin from the back and added it to the hand to help it look right.”

“This is beautiful, mom.”

She smiled and continued to adjust the skin. Once everything except the head was on, she had him turn around. She used a quick stitch to finish sewing up the back of the costume. Done, she turned him around and smiled. The head went on last.

“Will I be able to breathe in this mother?”

“There’s a mouth guard, like usual. Just fit it over your teeth.” She sighed. “You always act like it’s your first time.” She muttered under her breath. She looked in his eyes. “I thinned out his lips. They should fit over yours.”

She helped him place the head over his. With the guard in place, the lips seemed to slip over his. He had to sit down to have her help make sure the head was secure over his. Once it was, she nodded.

“All right now. Just let me close the back of the head up. Let me know if it’s too snug.”

“Yes, mom.” He adjusted the hands as if they were gloves. Randy’s birthmark stood out, but it had to look right. Thomas pictured it in his mind and made sure the skin was right before the spirit gum dried. Thomas wanted to make sure Jasmine saw the birthmark. It would prove how far he was willing to go to impress her. She liked Randy, but she would see that Thomas was the better choice after tonight.

“All set.”

He stood and went to the mirror. Randy was three inches shorter than he, but Thomas still looked like he was staring at Randy through a window rather than staring at himself in a mirror.  The costume was stupendous. He turned to his mother. “Mom, this…this is…I don’t know what to say. You’ve outdone yourself.”

She gave a smile that he knew meant something more was coming.

He grinned, happiness making his eyes blaze. “What? What is it? You have something else?”

“Usually, there are parts that don’t make it. This time, because I know how much you like the girl, I tried very hard to keep something intact. I had to cut it off and prepare it separately, but I think I can make this work.”

As he watched she went to the table and opened up her sewing basket. She took a handkerchief and opened it up. Agnes turned to her son and showed him the prize.

He looked down at her hands and his mouth and eyes flew open. “Mother! That is without a doubt the best present so far!” He embraced her, careful not to harm the last piece of the costume. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me until it’s on. Still not sure it’ll work.”

Thomas nodded, backed away and waited for Agnes to sew him up.

“I’ll need to sit for this, Thomas. You know I can’t stand for very long.”

“Yes, mother.”

He moved closer to her chair. She placed the gift on the table, threaded a good needle and sat down. Thomas stood still as she fitted the last bit of Randy between his legs. Randy had a birthmark on that part of him as well. Thomas didn’t know if Jasmine had slept with Randy before, but this would help if she had. Agnes fussed with the skin, stitching it into place, being careful not to harm Thomas. He was a good son, though. He knew not to move while his mother was putting the final pieces of a costume together.

As the sun set, and the time of the ball grew closer, Agnes stitched the last of Randy over Thomas.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

Stitch.

 

Daily Post: Star

From The Grey House:

“How safe is it to get a job there?” Dean asked with true worry in his voice.

“It’s a five-star restaurant. There haven’t been any killings or murders there.” Sometimes, when a vampire or other creature owned a business, there seemed to be a lot more crime than one would expect at the establishment. Vincent Grey seemed to know how to stay safe.

“Don’t you already have a job, though?”

She looked to the young man. “Dean someone needs to do this. I’m the best bet. They seem to hire more women than men.”

That wasn’t true. She had stopped by the restaurant during the lunch rush to pick up an application and during the dinner rush to drop it off. Their wait staff seemed to be half men, half women, but she wanted to be the one to approach Vincent. If he wasn’t the one causing the problems in the area, she wanted to find a way to warn him of the danger of Slayers.

Daily Prompt: Reason

From The Grey House (Natalia’s first talk with Rebecca, Vincent’s Alpha Werewolf):

Natalia closed her eyes at Rebecca’s touch, willing herself not to fear the woman. She had no reason to. The thought made her open her eyes and she met Rebecca’s intense gaze with a steady one.

“Is it fear or admiration that I see in your eyes?”

“A healthy dose of both.”

Rebecca nodded and pulled her hand away. “Sit down. You can’t be comfortable.”

Natalia did as instructed as the wolf went back to the desk and pulled a First Aid kit off of one of the chairs. “You’re cleaning my wounds?”

“I was ordered to.”

“Why you?”

Rebecca shook her head as she walked toward the couch. “The humans are terrified of you and vampires want to change you.”

Daily Prompt:

From The Grey House:

Charlie gave his Alpha wife an annoyed look. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I could be jealous. Do you want me to be the jealous wife?” Her arms were crossed, an amused look on her face.

He leaned against the closed doors of the van, running his hand through his shaggy hair. “You’re going to drive me nuts, woman.”

She slinked over to him, wrapped her arms around him, giggling the whole time. “Isn’t that my job?” She gave him a light kiss. “You drive the van; I’ll ride with the vampires.”

“We’re going to have to make more than one trip anyway. There are still over a hundred books in there. Why bother?”

She backed away, nodded her head in Vincent’s direction. “It’s what he would want.”

Charlie grabbed her arm and pulled Rebecca toward him. “How about we ask what he wants instead of assuming to know what he wants?”

“Because it’s fun to tease you.”

Daily Prompt: Point

From The Grey House:

The hand around her throat moved out of the way. Vincent leaned in close and brushed his lips against the pulsating vein. He could almost smell her blood as it flowed under her skin. He opened his mouth and bared his fangs. He pressed the sharp points against her skin, denting her flesh, but not penetrating. She let out a strangled sigh, and he was sure he had her.

Natalia finally felt fear, and her desires shut down. She had been trying to prepare for this moment mentally, but it still brought memories of her mother’s death. She gripped Vincent’s leg harder as she entwined her other hand in his hair. She tried to pull his head away, being careful not to act panicked. Reminding herself she still had the upper hand, she squeezed her eyes shut and clamped down on her fear. She was breathing hard and her heart was still pounding, but her fear passed. She pulled harder on his hair, and he growled with pleasure.

“Vincent?” She purred.

He made an affirmative noise against her throat; nipping her skin with his front teeth, as he thought of the many things he wanted to do to her sinuous body.

“Do vampires feel pain?”

He drew his head back, looking her in the face. It felt wonderful to play with her, but the question seemed too calculated and out of place. “What?”

She was still holding onto him and used him to steady herself as she slammed her knee up between his legs.

Daily Prompt: Attack

From The Grey House:

Sandra gave a small smile. “Might be due to the fact that I have some magical energy and can cast one spell.”

“You’re a mage?”

“Um…” She frowned. “Not officially. I learned the calming spell when I was a kid, but nothing else ever stuck. I’ve tried other things, and I even tried to get a mage to train me, but I could only ever work that spell.”

It was Charlie’s turn to frown. “Why that spell?”

She sighed. “Mom and dad were raised on Vincent’s estates. Dad died when I was two. Heart attack. She asked to leave, was allowed to and hooked up with this asshole who liked to beat her. I stumbled upon the calming spell and used it when he tried to hurt me. Didn’t seem to work any other time. When she finally decided to come back to Vincent’s estates, to keep her and me safe, I didn’t use it too much. Then I started working with you werewolves and tried it out. It works when the full moon isn’t out, and it only seems to work on one at a time.”

“That’s…”

“Completely inconvenient on a regular basis and completely convenient right now.”

Daily Prompt: Hallway

From The Grey House:

Natalia watched as the man she assumed to be Vincent Grey walked toward the hallway and places beyond. The man he had been talking to was slowly making his way toward her. She had watched them talk and was worried that Vincent’s man had figured her out. Since he was making his way toward her, she would take care of it. Vincent Grey she would take care of later.

The large vampire entranced her. She had read a little about him in the Slayer journals and knew he was of Viking descent. He was tall, broad shouldered with blond hair, and light blue eyes. He walked with the grace and dignity befitting a leader. She knew the situation of the vampires in San Francisco and knew that although Vincent was not the leader, most of the older vampires looked to him for guidance.

Daily Prompt: Deck

From The Grey House:

Natalia turned and walked away, leaving Vincent to answer his phone. She walked to the end of the deck where a set of stairs led to the parking lot. She heard the car before she saw it. There was a short limousine idling at the bottom of the steps, with the back door hanging open. A woman was leaning against the car, ready to close the door for Vincent. Very convenient for Vincent, very inconvenient for her. She nodded to the driver as she maneuvered around the car. Natalia was almost around it when she was whipped back around. Her bag banged against the trunk of the car as Vincent trapped her against the side.

“I thought we were done.” Her voice mirrored excitement and a tinge of anger.

“Come with me. Someone will drive you to your appointment later.”

Her hand was in his hair, massaging the back of his neck. “Vincent, do you have a car a waitress could afford?”

His hands were massaging her back under her backpack. With the door hanging open, it would be sinfully easy to throw her inside. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

Natalia removed her hand from his neck, placed both hands on his chest and pushed him back. He did not resist, although she knew he could have. She had that determined look again.

“My appointment is at a church in Oakland. It would raise a lot of questions if I arrived in a limo, or a fancy sports car or whatever it is you own. I’ll meet you here on Friday.”

He grabbed her to him one final time, giving her a crushing kiss. When he let her go, they were both breathless. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“Have I yet?” She gave him a smile and slipped away.

Daily Post: Sweet

From The Grey House:

Joseph had lifted her up. He used the wall to support her and trailed kisses and nibbles down her neck to her chest. He gently bit her breast, drinking her sweet blood. He pulled away, retracting his fangs before she could see them. She smiled an absolutely evil smile and showed him her fangs, asking ‘Isn’t it polite to ask before you take another vampire’s blood?’ She took his blood then, but not as gently. When Joseph told Vincent, his boss laughed, not in the least bit surprised.

Daily Prompt: Hover

Fro The Grey House:

Richard hovered nervously just behind Vincent’s right shoulder. The manager/maître d’ of The Ocean’s Edge was always fidgety, but when Vincent was around, he was ten times worse. The man had heard the entertaining rumors regarding Vincent and his lot and believed them. Vincent smiled remembering the first time someone accused him of being a mobster. He enjoyed the rumor; it kept the truth hidden.