I watched as my hands stitched up the new corpse on the table. He and his twin were among the thousands that ended up on my table. The Nightmare Master has been trying to use my ability to create a nightmare army. Thankfully, the best I can do is those horrendous curfew bots. They needed both my and Invent’s gifts to live though. 

The Nightmare Master was definitely not satisfied. I was about half finished stitching on this man’s arm. When I felt the Nightmare Master give me back control. I instantly dropped the needle and thread in my hands and went to the sink. Before I could turn it on and scrub myself raw, a hand gripped my shoulder. 

I flinched, and instantly I was back as my ten-year-old self. Who had just reanimated a corpse for the first time. All I did was briefly touch its arm, and it sat up. It opened its mouth to speak. However, its broken jaw just flopped up and down. 

Then it reached for me, trying to grab me. I bolted to the metal closet down there. Locking myself inside to get away from it. My family found me three hours later, my whole body shaking. I pushed those thoughts away. There is no way it could be a reanimated corpse.

I mean, the Nightmare Master has been having me do these experiments for years, but nothing has happened. So why would something be happening now? There has to be a better explanation than that. Right? It took a second before I found the courage to turn around. 

One of the corpse twins I had been just thinking about was glaring at me. He pointed at his twin. Who was now sitting up on my table. As best as he could with only one leg and arm to support him. 

“H---he--elp h---im.” The twin in front of me demanded. 

I could barely hear him over the pounding of my heart in my ears. My legs gave out on me, and I collapsed onto the floor, shaking. I curled in on myself instinctively. Trying to make myself as small as possible. Hands that could have only belonged to the corpse reached for me. 

I flinched away and tried to curl further into myself. The hands refused to let me go, though. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around me, pulling me onto his lap. I tried to get away, but he didn’t let me. He just held me tighter. 

Despite his being a corpse, the feeling of his arms wrapped around me was able to calm me down. Even as my breath turned back to normal, and I was no longer trying to get away. He still held me tightly. 

“You, um, you don’t need to hold me anymore.” 

I thought he would release me right away. I mean, why should he be comforting me when I was the one who did this to him and his twin? It was the Nightmare Master who forced me. Still, in their eyes, it had to be me. Instead of just releasing me, though, he helped me to my feet. 

“Ple---ase h---elp.” He pointed to his brother, who was staring at us. 

He wasn’t demanding this time but asking me. My hands still shook, though. Regardless of everything the Nightmare Master forced me to do. I’ve never touched a corpse when I was in control. I forced my nerves away. 

Knowing if I didn’t, then it would turn into a panic attack again. I really didn’t want to suffer another panic attack. The more of them I have, the more likely I am to shut down. 

“I can try, but without the Nightmare Master’s control, my stitching won’t be the best.” 

He tilted his head at my words. Probably not really understanding what I mean by that. Still, he nodded his head. I stepped forward, picking up the needle and thread I had discarded. When I tried to continue sewing him up, voices flashed in my head. 

Voices of all the people I was forced to experiment on. Begging, screaming, pleading with me to stop. Voices filled with pain until they died on this table. I didn’t realize tears had gathered in my eyes until the twin on the table reached and wiped them away. 

“Why cry?” 

He spoke much better than the other one. Probably because his jaw hadn’t been broken like his twin’s. Of course, the Nightmare Master had me fix it. Still, it would take him a bit of time to learn how to talk properly again.  

“This won’t hurt you, right?” 

He blinked at me, surprised that I would say something like that. When he said nothing, I forced myself to continue, anyway. As I sewed him together. I tried my best to match the even stitching of the Nightmare Master. It wasn’t as hard as I thought. 

I easily fell into the same rhythm that he had always forced me into. Soon enough, I was completely done with his arm. His leg was still in the freezer, though. I never got another piece out until I was done with the first. 

“I’ll get your leg,” I told him, so he wouldn’t think I was trying to leave.

He wasn’t really paying attention to me as he stretched out his arm. Probably trying to get out the stiffness. I stepped away, pulling it out of the freezer. Luckily, it hadn’t frozen solid, or we would have had to wait for it to thaw. Still, it was going to be hard for him to walk on. 

Pulling the needle through the almost frozen skin was a little hard, but not impossible. Soon enough, though, I was once again putting down the needle and thread. 

“Those stitches should hold. If you need me, I’m going to wash up.”

Usually, I would scrub everything off as soon as I get control. Since he stopped me, though, I still had this year’s grime covering me. It’s how the Nightmare Master likes to dress me.