Twisted Hopus Story

The Dead Blimpmother

Harry's P.O.V.

My eyes flickered open slowly, the tears from the night having dried and crusted over during my sleep. I wrenched them open, cringing slightly as the bright lights surrounded me. I was in a room somewhere... a basement, I supposed, due to the lack of windows.

I began to take the wreckage of my body in as my eyes adjusted to the light around me.

My clothes were ripped, brambles and blood from past memories clinging to the rag like material. A few of my stitches had come undone, blood and life leaking slowly from them as I pulled myself up, skin stretching from the new angle it was pulled in.

I then looked at my arm and smirked, the sweet memories of the night before filling my brain. About eight sewing needles, sharp and shining a beautiful bloody red were stuck into my arm at odd angles, blood dribbling from where they'd enter. I had kept them for later.

A reel of string wrapped around my other arm, the black line constricting and tight, light purple bruises forming from the strength it had been wrapped at, my whole arm numb and throbbing, yet still so good to know the thing that had been keeping me held together... literally... was still here.

My meek little form from before no longer held a place within me, my brain holding its own and forcing my head to follow the dark thoughts that looked oh so enticing.

I smirked again as I lifted myself up, sharp pains running up and down my arm from the needles sticking into it only fueling my anticipation for tonight.

I look around the warehouse, when a figure caught my eye. It was dark and slumped in the corner of the place I had found to hide in last night. I was sure the building was run down- no one stopped me from coming in anyway...

I stalked towards it, slowly drawing a needle from my arm, the blood coating the slim frame, dripping delicately to the floor. I stuck to the shadows, careful not to reveal any part of my body to the possible intruder.

I slid back out again as I reached the figure... and grinned as I saw what it was.

A woman lay there, her skinny body cold and lifeless, a frown on her dainty features. Dried blood on her long nose and... what is that? A spinny thingy on her head? I don't know nor do I care to know. Dried blood hung on her hand, where it was placed across her heart, her crimson dress covered with more red liquid.

As I looked around, I noticed there was something in her hands. It was a dress suit like most men would've worn to the now upcoming ball. It was the perfect shade of blue, white shirt underneath and an oddly flattering red bowtie connected to it. It was torn in some places and had blood here and there and the only thing I could say was, "It's perfect."

A thought crossed my mind as I took in the light blue suit, the soft silk and fines material simply glorified by the blood shrouding the suit. A grin played across my lips, the smile torn into my face ever expanding as the thought continued to work its way into my system, finally, breaking free as it put into action moments later.

As I tugged and tore at the gorgeous garment I leaned in close to the head blimp's ear and whispered softly to her as I arranged myself for the ball.

"Thank you... Hilda Godmother..."

A cackling laughter escaped my lips, running through the thick air of the basement, spreading my declaration of death through the air as it went.