Random Encounters: Home

Needle Say More?

"Hey, do you think I could juggle all of your appendages?" The voice asks Nate as they walk along the beach.

"If I let you, probably," Nate nods, staring at the sand beneath his toes.

"Yeah, that was a trick question, I don't know how to juggle," the voice retorts.

"You were juggling those eyeballs just fine," Nate points out.

"Ah, yes, but that was before you knew I can't juggle. Remember, I tried to-"

"Take lessons when you were a kid but discovered you didn't have the hand-eye coordination necessary," Nate finishes their statement as he rolls his eyes.

"Exactly."

Nate pauses. How did he know that? The voice never told him... it was almost as if someone else told him, some omniscient being of some sort. He continues walking, shrugging it off, but it still bugs him in the back of his mind.

"Hehehe, bugs." The voice laughs.

"Shut up-" Nate responds.

"Well, I hope you have some foresight into the next problem you're going to face. Because, it's a doozy," the voice mentions.

"Oh God, it's not something to do with my eyes, is it?" Nate asks, slightly sick at the thought.

"I guess we'll... see." The voice cackles.

Nate continues walking, wishing for once that they'd not torture him. A nice, stable, stay here would be very preferable at the moment. Alas, it could never be. Last time he stopped walking, just sat, waiting, he was mauled by a bear. He, in fact, still has the scars to prove it. So stopping is futile. As he moves along, the sand is washed away by the tide, turning into linoleum. The sky flips, tile by tile, turning into his kitchen... their house. Nate looks around, cautiously. Humming comes from the living room, presumably from Gwen. Maybe if he turned around, he wouldn't have to go through this.

"Nate? Is that you?" Gwen's voice floats through the air.

Nate doesn't respond, thinking no response is the best response.

"Nate?" Gwen calls again.

Nate blinks as one of the stools at the kitchen island morphs into AJ. AJ tilts his head, smiling at Nate in a malicious manner.

"He's in here, Gwen. It just looks like the cat's got his tongue," AJ says, hauntingly, neither breaking eye contact with Nate nor blinking.

"Oh, well, tell him to come in here, I have some things I need to show him," Gwen calls.

"You heard the woman," AJ mocks.

Nate looks in the direction of Gwen, then at AJ. His legs feel too heavy, he can't move. He tries to pick up his legs but they feel glued to the floor. AJ blinks, offended. How dare Nate not comply. The floor opens below him, dropping him onto a conveyor belt.

"We have our ways of getting you to do what we want," AJ scorns, "So, do what the pretty lady tells you to and we won't have any issues."

The conveyor belt jolts forward, causing Nate to sway back and forth as it moves him at a steady pace. He's moved into the living room where Gwen sits at her sewing machine, sewing something strange together. Nate squints, trying to make out what it is. The conveyor belt slows to a stop and Gwen turns the upper half of her body to look at him.

"Hey there, slow poke," she razzes.

"What are you working on?" The words fall out of his mouth.

"Oh, I'm glad you asked," her face twists into a smile, "I'm working on a Meat Jacket. Would you like to see it?"

No, no, no, he screams in his head, but his mouth says, "Yes, of course, I would love to."

Gwen pulls the project out from the sewing machine, showing it off. One look makes Nate sick to his stomach. The jacket is patched together with Frankenstien stitches, which seems fitting, seeing that its "fabric" is composed of skin. Over a thousand different skin tones, all combined into one jacket. Nate's stomach lurches from the smell and sound it makes.

"Would you like to try it on?" Gwen's face warps into a twisted smile.

Oh God no, please no, he thinks to himself as she shakes the jacket. It makes a grotesque flapping noise as she does.

"No, thank you," Nate forces the words out.

Gwen's face falls flat from his statement.

"Oh, well, I understand," she says, in a hurt tone, "You know, I do need just a little more fabric."

Nate's brown eyes grow in horror.

"I think your skin is the perfect shade." Gwen's eyes become completely black as her smile grows from ear to ear, quite literally.

Nate begins backing away, moving the feet that refused to budge before.

"Oh, I don't think so." Gwen's hand wraps around his arm like vines around a tree trunk.

She pulls him closer, forcefully. Nate falls forward as Gwen pulls him to her sewing machine, which has almost tripled in size. It turns on, growling at Nate as Gwen pushes his head closer and closer to the needle. Gwen cackles as she forcefully pins Nate's head to her sewing machine, feeding it through like fabric. Nate yelps in pain as the long, sharp, needle presses up and down, piercing through his skull each time.