The Maker

Emile was different. There was always something off about how he interacted with others. He was a little too kind. A little too nice. His entire life, he'd be happy to be a supportive friend. Going to great lengths that nobody else would go. It was over bearing in a nature.

Thats what most of his friends would tell you verbetim. At first, in highschool, it was sweet. He never make a move on the girls and was always loyal to the guys. However, as his group of friends grew older, some parted ways. Some changed.

Still, Emile stayed the same. He stayed at his mothers house. He continued to work at the Curly Pig grocery mart. His life stayed stagnant. Yet, he was content.

The town was relatively small, yet bigger than the towns scattered around the sticks of Tennessee. However, if you'd ask anyone not from the town they'd have no clue what you were talking about. Some would say awful things about the town but Emile thought it was just quaint.

"Sure, it has an awful history," he said. His voice deep and quiet with a strong southern drawl. "But it's slow and nothing really happens here."

"Nothing happens here?" Misty asked is disbelief. "People go missing all the time."

"They always come back." he reminded her.

"Still," she huffed and picked up a box from the top of the pile. It was pickles. "its weird how often it happens. Somethings got to be going on."

Emile helped her load the cart to restock. He then grabbed his own and stocked his. He pushed the thoughts of conspiracy away and continued his his way to the main part of the store.

When it was 8:24pm he fianlly went to the break room and put up his apron. He was supposed to leave at 6 but the store manager kept adding things to his plate.

Misty, who was still working front cashier, called out to him as he passed. "Do you think you could stay a bit? I don't have a ride home."

He paused, he was tired since he'd been there since the store opened. Yet still he nodded. "I promise I'll get you home tonight." He then walked outside to his car. Climbing down into his little Poniac Sunfire, he sighed and layed his head back.

Thats when he felt it. A presence that rose the hairs on the back of his head. An explosion filled his head followed by the sound of a helicopter trapped behind his eyes. Emile grabbed his head and moaned before feeling his chest jerk up. His arms jerked to his sides and he felt his jaw slowly open. A crack and pain filled his face as his mouth opened wider.

The passenger door opened and Misty stooped down and climbed in. "Can you beli-" it was quick. Just a quick snap, the gurgling of blood, and the next thing Emile knew he was driving down the dirt road toward his home.

He pulled into the driveway of the little single wide trailer and turned off his car. He went inside and kissed his mothers head. She was facing the t.v, still watching reruns of her favorite show from the 90's.

He laughed, "If you keep watching these, you'll be able to quote them in you sleep." He carressed her cheek and watched silently as a piece of makeup covered fleshed ripped from her cheekbone.

"Oh mama," he sighed as he lowered himself to one knee. "Don't worry. I'll be safe." he got up and walked to the door, glancing back at her one last time.

He went around to the passenger side of the car and dragged Misty out by her shoulders. Emile took her to the shed behind the house. Turning on the light, he surveyed the room. The sewing machine glistened but not as bright as the meat covered spare bones piled in the corner behind it. Skin in different colors were draped around the room like old coats. A humidifier went off in the corner opposite of the bones, keeping the shed nice and moist.

He sat down and got to work, ripping the spine out of Misty. As he carefully removed as many bones as he could from the hole in her neck, he noticed a slight bump in her stomach. He sighed, judging by this and Misty's stories of her latest boyfriend, he'd say its safe to assume she was pregnant.

He looked down at her remorsefully as he got up and went back into the house, grabbing the shock vac from the living room closet. He went back into the shed and quietly plugged it into the extension cord before shoving it roughly into her vagina. He flipped the switch and turned his nose in disgust at the wet slurping sound that followed.

After finishing the removal of her bones, Emile layed them out on the plastic folding table and picked out one of the draping skins that matched her complextion. The vaccum stopped with a clogging sound so he slammed his fist on her deflated stomach to get it pumping again.

After sewing up her new body and stuffing her with a assortment of cotton, bones, meat, and herbs, Emile deemed Misty finished. The presence he felt before rushed to his head. Emile buckled to his knees and felt a familiar, reassuring hand on his shoulder.

When it left, he stood up over the sleeping body of Misty. Emile watched as her chest rose and fell before clothing her gently. He picked her up and carried her back to his car. As he drove her home, Misty woke up and blankly stared ahead. "How are you feeling?" he tested.

"Good." She replied quickly, still staring ahead. He smiled to himself. He was a good friend, just a different one. He kept his promise and got Misty home that night.