Novels2Search
Stitches (Part 1)
7: The Last Breakfast

7: The Last Breakfast

Note: Time referenced below is tied to when chapter six ended.

—Tiffany—

8 Minutes Earlier...

"How do I live without you?" The ballad's words grated on Tiffany's nerves as she sat in the booth plotting out her move.

"So, what are we doing?" Travis asked her, his eyes burning a hole in her from across the table.

"You need to give me a minute to think." Her head turned to the window as she scanned over her surroundings. Nothing looked amiss, yet. Whatever else was out there would soon converge on the town.

It was in their nature to hunt for fresh material to work with.

"How do I ever, ever survive?" If anyone could survive, it was Tiffany. She knew how the creatures worked, their weaknesses... but there was someone who needed that information right now.

Kendra.

The condiments on the table rattled. She glanced back to see Travis awkwardly making his way out of the booth as he gripped at his side. "Ugh," her verbal annoyance made him halt.

His teeth gritted. "You're not doing anything!" he said, trying to keep the conversation low. "Kendra is in danger-" She saw her opening to diffuse his argument.

"She is, and you think your injured ass can save her?" He stared her down. "Are you able to help her if she's hurt?" Her brow rose. "Tell me, do you know how to stop these things?"

"I want to know." The timing of the song was perfect, as reality set in for Travis.

He might be open to a suggestion now.

"I need you to let me handle Kendra. I have something you can do for me in the meantime."

His slumped shoulders perked. "What do you need?"

She gave a weak smile. "So I need you to watch for anything coming from outside. If you see anything else, send Della or Fred to come get me, but be subtle and tell them to be quiet about it."

He nodded. "Okay."

With Travis placated, she just needed to wait for an opening to sneak past Della and into the back of the diner. She watched as the older woman moved about in the dining room.

The diner had dozens of people in it. They all went about their morning, blissfully unaware of what was about to come. Making plans with friends and family that would never come to be. Enjoying the last breakfast they would ever have in this place. The last morning of their routine.

It was the dawn of the day that all hell would break loose.

Tiffany had lived it all before.

The pangs in her heart had snuck up on her.

But there was no time for them.

Della moved about when a customer pulled her attention. This was Tiffany's opening. Her body tensed and moved one step at a time until she crept through the kitchen door. Despite her careful movement, the door creaked and caught the attention of the man at the grill.

"Hey!" the line cook, Fred, yelled to her. "No customers back here, even if they're friends with the staff!" Della must have heard him, heels moving with purpose toward the door. Tiffany had to go. "Hey!" He said as she turned to leave, only to hear the door behind her creaking open.

"Dear, you better have an explanation for why you're back here." There wasn't a hint of amusement in her voice. Her gloved hands rested on her hips as she glared through her cat-eye glasses. She only needed to tap her foot in impatience to complete the angry caricature.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

She only had one chance to convince Della. If she ran, Della would follow her, and she would be anything but quiet about it. If she was vague, the woman would drag out the berating retort.

"Della, I'll tell you more later, but right now, Kendra and Casey are dead if you don't help me." Tiffany's answer ended with the woman staring her down. "I need you to take me to the back door." They took their first steps when her heels clacked. "We need to be quiet." she added.

"Fine." She had averted a standoff when the older woman relented. "But know this; if you're lying, you're banned for life."

By some miracle, her approach had worked. "Lead the way." Della charged through the scullery room and into the backroom where the door to the outside hung open.

"Kendra... help me-" It was Casey. His voice trembled before the screams started.

It was too late for Casey, but what about Kendra?

The pair reached the threshold when Della let out a gasp at the beast.

The Cerberus had trapped her employees in its crosshairs with their backs to the dumpster they couldn't retreat. Blood ran down Casey's arm as he reached for the needles impaled on his limb. The desperate attempts to pry them off his skin only made more blood spill as the metal sliced open his fingers.

Tiffany's breathing grew quicker. Her skin felt as if were incased in ice as she felt her body shiver.

It was just like all of those years ago, people she cared about pinned down by an ungodly monster.

The day she'd survived the nightmare that took everything from her was the day she swore she'd never be so useless again.

She needed to act.

The deer reared, then stomped the ground. Black, needled threads rose from its rotting body.

She knew this tactic from the creature's file.

When a host's body was nearing its physical limit from decay, the creature would prioritize transferring its weavers to a fresh host and continue the cycle to create more stitched abominations. As the weavers fed off of a host's body, they sped up the decaying process.

Tiffany pulled herself and Della away from the door. "Kendra told me you keep a shotgun here. Is it true?" Tiffany whispered as Della tried to process the creature she had witnessed.

Tiffany had gone through that same stare-and-horror state, wanting answers she wasn't ready for when she first saw the creatures that destroyed her hometown.

"Della... go get it." The order was enough to get her to move.

It was loud, but that was what she needed.

"Casey-" Kendra's voice pulled Tiffany back to the back door and the crisis unfolding. Casey had pulled Kendra into the line of fire for the creature. A needle tore through his arm as she broke free and fell back just as the deer pulled its threads back.

The needles flew at them.

Some hit the dumpster.

Most of them hit Casey.

She prayed that none had hit Kendra.

Her blood ran cold at the wails of agony. Yet, this was her opening while the deer was unarmed. The sheer number of needles the creature had stitched into Casey had likely left it in a weakened state.

She just needed to time this right to help Kendra.

Tiffany reassured herself that a lack of screams from her friend meant she hadn't met the same fate as Casey. He fell to the ground when the screams subsided and blood flowed from his body.

This was her window.

"Kendra!" Her head rose from behind the trash bag she used for cover.

Thank god she was alright.

"You need to stay quiet! The rotting ones are blind!" Her advice attracted the Cerberus, it turned to her. Four needles burst through its hide as the strings moved about. Tiffany pulled in the door, leaving it cracked only a few inches. "Make your way around the building!" With a yank, the metal of the door clanged shut.

Clunks sounded out as the tips of the weavers pierced the door.

She had warned Kendra.

The deer should be nearly out of projectiles and Casey would take time to rise.

Kendra could hold on until she could get out there.

She had to...

Tiffany needed to blow Casey's head off before the weavers could take full control of him. A fresh victim was agile and able to see. Blinding him was her best bet. If he made his way inside this diner with dozens of people...

She shook the thought from her mind. She needed to stop him and the deer.

She traced her steps back when the hurried clacking of heels closed in on her. She turned to see Della and Fred. Despite sending Della to get the shotgun, the line cook held it in his hands.

"Fred, I need that." She pointed to the weapon.

He shook his head. "You can barely run a radio station. You expect me to trust you with this?"

She didn't have time for this. She needed to move, and she needed that gun.

"Fred I-" A panicked cry sounded out from the dining room. The three turned to the door. When it opened, Travis stood in the doorway in a panic.

What fresh hell had made its way inside?