Michael was a good kid. He never got into fights; he never teased or mocked people; and he never bullied. Adults and parents respected him for his good conscience. But his brothers were mean and cruel boys. They would pick fights with those weaker than them and ruin their social life. One day Michael was on Facebook when he saw an ad…"Do you want to take the Stitcher challenge?".
The challenge was to go to a house for the night and watch one of Stitcher's tapes. Michael and his brothers decided to give this a try. They went down to the house after printing the directions off the ad, the house was rank. The wood was decaying and miscolored. Michael and his brothers spent hours wandering the decrepit ruin. Then Michael started questioning this venture and asked to leave but before he could get to the door he heard a sound and quickly turned on his torch but....when he turned it on he saw something disturbing. The house was decorated with the hanged bodies of people. Michael nearly threw up when he noticed that their eyeball's had been removed and their eyelids were stitched shut.
Before he could run he saw The Stitcher Man. He looked human…but his eyes were stitched shut. As Michael stood there, stunned, he saw on the strangers body there were severely deformed stitches covering his face. He was dead pale and tall wearing a black and bloodied cloak. Before Michael's brothers could run, leaving Michael frozen in place, the Stitcher Man moved in and grabbed them. His fingers pierced their way into their chest and felt their hearts; their faces wretched in pain and shock, though no blood flowed free.
The Stitcher's hands turned black and he ripped them back out of their chest. Before Michael could get to them, the Stitcher forced his fingers into their eye sockets and pulled their eyes out, their optical nerves stretched and snapped, a sound that echoed in the otherwise silent and desolate mansion, he then quickly, and with inhuman speed and accuracy, sewed their eyelids shut. Michael fled wiping vomit from his chin. He couldn’t handle what he had just seen. As he blindly dashed into a room down a couple halls, hoping to find sanctuary somewhere, he stopped dead. In front of him, on the floor, was a TV, tuned to noiseless static, with a tape sitting on top of it. Written in black permanent ink, was;
He watched the tape. Michael saw a boy not too much older than himself. The tape showed scenes of the boy being bullied at school. It was clear he was very depressed. The kids pulled a prank on him when he was sitting on some steps. They ambushed him, pinned him down, and began to put stitches all over him. The boy screamed and tried to jerk his way out of the pin. His stitches began to tear and blood ran free. The video skipped ahead some time. It showed the same boy being tossed into a pool...the boy slowly drowned as the bullies stood about laughing. The television turned off at the end of the tape. Michael got up but The Stitcher was behind him. Although his mouth never opened, he heard the man say, "so you watched my tape?"
Michael stammered, "Y-y-yes."
The Stitcher drove his fingers into his heart. Michael was in shock, and thought intense pain would follow, but it never did. His hand began to glow intensely, and the Sticher pulled his fingers out of his chest, leaving no marks or bruises. Michael asked "who are you?"
The Stitcher said, "I go by many names but I am mostly referred to as The Stitcher. I hunt those who are not pure of heart, and bring them to my house. This is where I died. Remember that I spared you.”
Michael felt the terror in his heart lessen, but still burst out of the building at full speed. When he brought the police and his parents back to show them his brothers, the building was empty. No bodies. No brothers. No Stitcher.
Not even the TV or the tape was there. The brother’s bodies were never found, and Michael was placed in an asylum for a year due to the trauma. When he got out, he returned to the house. It was locked up tight and condemned. He broke inside and found the room where the tape was. The room was still empty except for one message, stitched into the wall.
I WILL RETURN.