Thomas laughed heartily to himself, taking another large swig of his alcohol, life was good for the man.
Snow battered against his window panes outside, demanding entrance, but unable to gain it.
A blizzard had begun once more, the man was surprised that his house hadn't been trapped in the wretched stuff.
He flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to his lips where he had a cigarette waiting, once done, he placed it back in his pocket breathing in the calming smoke and exhaling it back out through his nose.
He tossed the empty vodka bottle across the timbered floors of his house, watching it roll over and pile up with the many others.
"Where is that kid?" the grubby man snorted, puffing the smoke from his nose once more. "Probably bankrupt them! And he left his pathetic scissors here, the stupid shit, he's probably crying to mommy about how unfair I was yesterday"
He'd enjoyed putting the kid in his place, after the attack from the man, he'd used the money to go buy himself more drugs and booze, which he'd already gone through in a night. So in other words, he needed the boy to come soon, the family was his most treasured customers.
As if on cue, the splintered wooden door was forced open, snow infiltrating his residence. Thomas smirked, amused that even through the cold blizzard, Ian had forced his son to come forth and wither their money away, the boys orange and black scarf waved to him from outside.
"HAH! I knew you'd be back Andrew!" Thomas mused, pulling the cigar from his dirty lips. "I knew your old man wouldn't be able to stay away! Well dont you worry, the price is the same as last time"
Andrew stepped into the man's house, not in his uniform as he'd usually be, instead, in the same clothes he'd worn yesterday which intrigued Thomas. Andy also had dark belts, two around the top of each arm, which he could see secured sewing supplies. There was also something uneasy about the rigid figure slowly walking towards him, but the man couldn't put his finger on it.
"Andrew mate, have a goddamn shower, your face is all bloody and shit!" the man observed, chucking his cigarette to the side. "And your fringe is over your eye! I can hardly see you, you've gone emo"
Once close enough, the boys posture straightened, he seemed almost bigger than the night before. Thomas was correct about the blood too, it was covering his face in long lines, his outfit beneath him had been affected as-well. If it wasn't for how much of a coward Andrew had been the night before he would've actually frightened the man a bit.
"Is this better?" Andy asked in a low, almost daunting tone, and he lifted his fringe.
"OH DEAR FUCKING GOD!!" Thomas shrieked, jumping aback in terror.
The boys right eye was missing, which a long, bloody stitch line concealing the side of his face, it travelled around his features in smaller lines, like he'd been in a horrible fight and in result had been horrifically mutilated. Andy then pulled down the scarf covering his mouth to reveal a terrifying grin.
"W-WHAT-?! ANDREW, WHAT THE FUCK!!" Thomas wailed, staggering aback so much that he lost his balance, flailing and falling to the ground.
Andy then began walking towards the man, slowly, like a cat teasing its prey.
"You have something of mine" he whispered, the mans eyes widened and he desperately reached into his coat pocket grasping the scissors. "HERE! J-just take them and get out Andrew!!"
The boys fingers clenched into quivering fists, and he kneeled down so he was facing the terrified man, ripping the big, orange scissor blades from the mans grasp.
"That is not my name Thomas" Andy warned, his one red eye boring into the man.
"I-I MEAN ANDY!" he corrected, beads of sweat alining his forehead.
"Wrong again"
"W-wha-?"
"Its Stitcher" once said, the boys grin widened into an even scarier, terrifying sneer.
The murderer, formally known as Andy, watched as the man whimpered and scampered to his feet pulling out the exact same blade he'd used to injure him the night before, Stitcher chuckled hungrily.
"I was hoping you'd do this" he explained, pulling the scarf back over his mouth and walking towards the man.
"Get away!" Thomas exclaimed, fear biting at his chest, he abandoned the fight immediately, turning and running for the stairs.
Stitcher grinned underneath the material enveloping his face, the man was chubby so he was like a wounded deer when running up the steps to safety, he was the Stitchers mouse.
"Peek-a-boo" Stitcher whispered, pacing quietly after the terrified man. "I-stitch-you"
The cat awaited the boys return from the drug dealers building, tail swaying back and fourth in obvious impatience. Finally he appeared at the doorstep, closing the entrance to the residence politely and walking down the snow covered path towards him. The animal recognized the fresh stench of hot blood, and as the boy came closer it became visible all over his clothes.
He spotted the cat, and smiled beneath his scarf, reaching out to stroke the creatures matted fur.
"Hello Grinny" he greeted.
"Greetings Stitcher" he replied, beam widening when realizing the boy used his name.
Grinny then climbed upon Stitchers shoulder, nuzzling his snout into the psychopaths pale but warm neck, and settled down in a slumber.
"Didn't you hear? It was all over the local papers!" a man, tall and bold stood next to his friend in the cafe, vest confident and mustache long and impressive.
He tossed his mate the paper he had clutched under his arm and pointed with a promising finger to the head titles, his friend cleared his throat.
"Three adults in their thirty's were found murdered in their residence last night, around six thirty in the morning were their bodies discovered by a bystander coming home from her early morning shopping" he began, eyebrows arched in curiosity. "She said that the house smelt horrible and that flies kept swooning around the windows, which she found odd, as it was in the middle of winter"
"Keep reading chap!" the man urged, taking a large gulp of his coffee.
"The murder scene was gory and gruesome, both the married couples heads were found sewn together with red string, the couples necks had been stitched onto the body of a headless man, known from dealing and selling drugs. The three adults were recognized as Ian and Katherine Collins and their friend Thomas Anderson" he finished, handing the paper back to his friend with a look of disgust on his face.
"And thats not all! They believe a local boy did it! Ran into the night he did, no one has seen him either, apparently only fifteen years old too" the man added, shaking his head despondently.
Well dear reader, that is the story of the murderous boy, Stitcher. What do you think happened to him?
Many believe he died in the snow, froze to death, others reckon he was so distressed he committed suicide off of the local bridge. None of their theory's are correct though, how do I know you ask?
Well... I know because ... I'm his cat, Grinny. I'd better go now though, as I suggest the same for you, he doesn't like it when people find out about his past, he says that they wouldn't understand.
Is that true? Anyway, goodbye for now, Stitcher is calling me.
Somewhere in this world, there's an empty gaping hole, and the only way to fix it ... is to Stitch. It. Up.
