“Stitches Coming Undone”
~ Ash Lomen
Tommy soon found out why the humans hated Stitchmen so much. Stitchmen were damned hard to kill, perfect for labor… but even better for revolution. Blood on the streets and not an ounce of water (unless you counted the acid rain).
Tommy bit the stitches of his left hand loose and replaced it with a crude bladed weapon he found lying around behind the dead factors of district C. He used this newfound limb to inflict bloody death upon any man or woman in any sort of uniform.
He sliced human police into a something resembling thin deli cut ham, he stuffed firehoses in the toothless mouths of firemen and made their guts explode like a wild backdrafts, He impaled American soldiers on flagpoles, a dozen at a time.
Tommy was repeatedly punching a young human girl in the face with his remaining hand, turning her features into something resembling ripened red fruit… just about to think that perhaps he had taken this whole… “thing” of his… too far.
And that’s when he hear the song on the radio, fuzzy-frozen still from reception gathered through factory towers, but meaning clear as a starlit night. The song that changed his life.