Stitches

9: We (un)Lucky Few

–Kendra–

The glass that rained from the diners' windows slowed to a trickle of fragments clinking onto the wet pavement. When Kendra had left to take out the trash, everything had been fine.
But the monster had gotten inside...
Was everyone dead?
There had to be someone alive...

She listened for who might have survived, only to hear the music playing through the busted-out windows.

"You know it's alright, it's okay." The upbeat disco music was full of shit. The situation was anything but alright and okay.

Kendra rose, looked into the diner, and gasped. Many bodies lay around the collapsed monster that had killed them all. She felt her pulse in her throat, the air sultry as the metallic scent of blood wafted from the inside. She gagged as sweat formed on her forehead.
Was everyone dead?
There had to be someone alive...
She couldn't stop.
Casey and that damn deer were coming.

She looked out past the parking lot in the distance. Figures shambled about aimlessly. The people felt... off to her. They continued their slow advance towards the diner. With each step, their details grew clearer.

"Oh, shit," she said. The longer she looked at them, the worse it got, like a cursed image. Haphazardly woven threads covered their bodies. Some had too many limbs, others were missing parts.
More patchwork nightmares to haunt her dreams.

There were too many of them. Fleeing on foot would be suicide. She needed her keys.
Why did they have to be in the diner full of corpses?

Kendra made her way to the entrance as she passed by the shattered windows. "You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive." The song made a hollow promise. "Feel the city break–" A pop followed by a buzz grated on her ears until another pop sounded and the speaker went dead.
The monsters weren't a fan of the music either.

She leaned towards the glass section of the front door and peered in. The entrance was clear. As she was about to open it, she paused.

The stupid chime would alert everything in there if she opened the door too quickly. She glanced at the area she had come from.

No deer or Casey, yet.

She knelt. If the bell went off, they'd aim for that, but god forbid she get hit by a stray needle. "You can do this." She said under her breath as she eased the door open. Kendra passed through the threshold, then slowly let the door close. The bell hadn't rung.
She made it inside undetected.

Still crouched, she reached for the door lock and twisted it shut. A dull click sounded. She waited to see if any projectiles would come her way, but nothing came. Despite all the broken windows, the locked door gave her some comfort.
And hopefully some time from the enclosing horrors outside.

Make your way through the diner, get your keys, and go. Her plan was simple.

The entryway had booths set on each side of the door. On either side of her, she could hear the squelches of jagged metal as it weaved and wormed its way through the flesh and muscle of its victims.
She couldn't waste time and sit still.
Kendra leaned forward to see beyond the fake leather barrier on her left.

Her heart sank. A woman lay face down. Threads had woven their way through her top, stained dark red with hints of the original pink showing in slivers. An old man sprawled out on the floor as needles worked their way through his chest. As Kendra looked over at another pair of men, she recognized one.
Fred.

He lay on his side, his bug eyes looking at her as the needles wove their way through his right arm and upper back. His mouth gaped as blood dripped out from the corner of his lips to the floor. Had he screamed in agony before succumbing to his injuries?