With the Gorilla on the loose, Isaac and crew departed the pool area‑—leaving Blades still sliding about the frozen pool—and took the long way around towards the barns. There had been a debate about sheltering again in the lodge, but after the episode with the retractable wall, Isaac didn’t trust it.

In front of the house, they passed really-dead Vince. Isaac surveyed the area, saw no signs of stitches, cracked a grin, and kneeled at the body. From his Everbag, he retrieved the sack mask he’d taken from the Bubba on his ill-fated vampire hunt. He’d added some runes of his own, inked designs that weaved between the existing ones on the interior, to make it malleable to his commands. At least, that was his hope. Despite his tendency to leave corpses in his wake, he had yet to find a suitable test for it. The current situation seemed dire enough that he figured what did they have to lose.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kendra asked.

“Maybe creating an undead weapon of our own. Give me a hand.”

Both Kendra and Wayne blanched at the command, but Bianca kneeled right down and helped him prop the body up. She wore no disgust on her face, just gritty resolve. He was starting to like her. He tried to slide the mask on but found to his dismay that the dead man had very little cranium left to work with. It was like trying to fit a helmet on mashed potatoes.

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Bianca said.

Isaac wanted to say something sarcastic, but she had been way too correct in her assessment.

“Isaac! Hurry up!” Wayne yelled and pointed at Blades. The stitch had gotten itself off the icy pool and was speed-walking gimpy-style towards them.

“Go to the barn,” Isaac ordered, and then, with a level of annoyance, as if Vince had conspired to have his cranium ruined, he let the body slump back to earth.

They beat the stitch to the barn with seconds to spare but still not enough time to swing shut the large doors. Instead, Isaac directed them to the hayloft, and they ascended the ladder to temporary safety. While the stitch had the rudimentary sense of how to use a ladder, the lack of hands betrayed it. It repeatedly hacked away at the rungs, expecting to grab hold and failing each time.

“It can’t climb,” Wayne laughed dryly and sat down on a hay bale to catch his breath.

“But I’m sure that Gorillapus can. It’s only a matter of time before it comes right? And we’re trapped,” Bianca pointed out.

“We’re only trapped in the technical and literal sense,” Isaac replied as he peered around at the barn cameras and then down at the hapless stitch. The trio didn’t care for his snarky answer and preceded to babble at him, but he tuned them out for a few moments of enjoying the stitch be defeated by the ladder. He already knew his next course of action and felt content to let the viewing audience drink in the stitches fumbling ineptitude. Finally, he produced a jar of cloudy liquid and handed it to Bianca. “You threw that bottle at the stitch like a professional.”

“I used to pitch to my brothers. They all thought they’d be big-time baseball players, but I was the only one with any talent.” She held the jar up and examined it. “What is it?”

“Sand, grave dirt, a few dead worms, and unpurified water. Throw it. Not at the stitch but the ground below it. As close to its feet as you can.”

“What’s it do?” Kendra and Wayne asked almost simultaneously and moved cautiously to the edge of the loft for a better view.

“Hopefully we’ll see. I’ve never tried this spell, so we’ll just have to see how it goes.”

Bianca wound up her arm and fired the jar straight down. She threw a bullseye and the jar shattered at the base of the ladder. The effect wasn’t quick like the frostbite finger. It progressed slowly enough that, for a moment, Isaac worried it wasn’t working at all. But then the earth at Blades feet darkened with moisture that spread outward as if a water pipe had burst just below the surface.

Moments later the stitch stood in a puddle of mud. It quickly sunk to its ankles, then to its shins. Only when its knees were submerged did the dull creature finally register its predicament and attempt to step away. By then it was too late, and the quick-grave spell was fully underway. The stitch continued to struggle, which only hastened the spell and pulled it down faster.

Once again, its lack of hands betrayed it, as it flailed at the earth, cutting dirt away in clumps, but able to grasp nothing. Like a grave, the magical quicksand pit was six feet deep to the letter. Within moments only its upraised bladed-arms could be seen, and these could only wave helplessly.

“Wow, that was amazing,” said Bianca, looking over his shoulder.

Isaac rubbed his chin and shrugged. “It worked, I guess. It took effect way too slow. If the stitch wasn’t so breathtakingly stupid or had hands, I’m pretty sure it could have crawled out. Maybe I got the mixture wrong.”

***

At the viewing party, Dr. Landis pouted. “It only had to move over a couple of feet. But no, it just stood there and let itself sink.”

“Yeah, and knife-hands aren’t too good for pulling to safety either.” Hutchins smirked.

“Oh, fuck you, Hutchins. Your dog head with antlers didn’t fare any better.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Mind your manners,” scolded Dr. Menclewski. “Dr. Tate, what’s my cardinal rule for stitches?” Neither Tate nor any of the others bothered answering. Dr. Menclewski had a dozen so-called cardinal rules and there was no point in anyone trying to guess. “Never remove functionality. Never design a stitch that can’t do all the simple things it could do in life. Blades instead of hands would work well in an arena, but are a poor choice for opening a door or climbing a ladder, as we witnessed.”

Dr. Tate let out a huffing laugh. “Mine had hands. Four of them. Didn’t prevent it from freezing solid in a damn swimming pool. Maybe I should have given it fins.”

This statement annoyed Dr. Menclewski because it was technically true and thus did not allow for him to respond with a lecture. Dr. Landis and Mr. Hutchins’ stitches had indeed failed largely due to poor design choices. But Dr. Stevens and Dr. Tate’s creations had been solid, if unspectacular, and they had fared no better.

Ambassador Murray returned from the restroom and retook her seat. “What’d I miss? Anything good?” She squinted at the screen and laughed. “Maybe that one should have shovel hands to dig itself out.” Like Dr. Tate earlier, Dr. Landis had to bite his lip lest he say something insulting to Hell’s foremost emissary.

Dr. Menclewski turned his attention back to the screens. The Ambassador was the only person in attendance that lay beyond fear of the surgeons and thus, her joviality could only be weathered. It was, however, an insulting reminder that there were probably others in the room that would be laughing as well if they were brave enough.

Even now the crowd seemed to be wondering how the magician would defeat the last stitch, not the other way around. The doctor couldn’t blame them. He wondered it himself. So, when his stitch landed on the barn and tore a hole in the roof, he let out a sigh of relief. His beast was still the best piece on the board.

And a masterpiece at that.

***

“Go! Run! Jump!” Isaac yelled as the simian paw punched its way through the wood. Each of them in turn climbed halfway down the ladder and then leaped over the quicksand pit to solid ground.

While the assault initially startled them, it didn’t appear that even the Gorilla possessed the strength to bash its way in before they all escaped. Bianca and Wayne made it to safety, but just as Kendra jumped Isaac realized his miscalculation.

The hole wasn’t for the Gorilla itself, but the damn tentacles. They struck through with speed and snatched Kendra out of the air mid-jump. While the hooks must have been incredibly painful it probably didn’t compare to being pulled through a jagged wooden hole smaller than her body. Kendra continued to scream outside but Isaac could do little for her, other than to use the distraction to shepherd his remaining flock.

They were still gaping up in horror when Isaac physically pushed them out of the barn. He didn’t have much of a plan other than getting back to the lodge and playing defense until he saw Angie’s corpse. The Gorilla had discarded it outside the barn, and he excitedly noted that the stitch had left her head intact. He pulled out the sack mask and a staple gun.

The sight of it snapped Wayne out of his fear stupor. “Oh no. Not this again.”

“She has a whole head.”

Wayne stopped next to him. “Huh? Who cares, she’s dead. Let’s go!”

Bianca remained on board with the magician’s sack plan and again propped the body up. Isaac slipped the mask on her and made a satisfied grunt this time as it fit much better than smushed-head Vince. A little big but he pinched up the excess material and set to work staple-gunning it into place. He had a hard time lining up the eyes, but did his best and finished it off with several staples into the forehead. “Ok, let her go and back up.”

Bianca didn’t need directions for that. She dropped the dead woman and scrambled away. “So, what’d that do besides make her scary looking?”

“Wait for it,” Isaac said with a finger up. Agonizing seconds drug by with Isaac and Bianca watching and Wayne shifting weight from foot to foot in preparation to run. Finally, just as Isaac started to lose hope, Angie stirred. Several fingers twitched at first. Then her feet, followed by her head turning side to side. When she sat up, Wayne screamed.

“You brought her back to life?”

“No. She’s kind of like the stitches now. Undead.” Angie clambered awkwardly to her feet like a newborn animal quickly learning to walk. “So now we have an undead weapon of our own. Not sure she can beat the Gorillapus but better...” Isaac’s voice cut off when Sack-Angie suddenly wrapped both hands around his throat and squeezed. “Son...of...a...bitch,” Isaac managed to croak out with his remaining oxygen.

“Is this part of your plan?” he heard Wayne shout.

If he’d been able to speak Isaac didn’t know if he’d have laughed or cursed. Sack-Angie lifted him off the ground, simultaneously strangling and swinging him to and fro.

He wasn’t exactly sure what had gone wrong. Maybe one of the staples punctured a rune just right or, more likely he realized, some of the extra skin that bunched up around Angie’s neck had caused a crease. After all, it had been designed for that great big Bubba head. He’d be embarrassed by such a rookie mistake if he weren’t being murdered. He grabbed at the mask, tried to tug it but was quickly sapped of strength. As his vision dimmed, he contemplated the irony that he was going to die at the hands of a reanimated monster of his own creation.

Something slammed into Sack-Angie’s head with a metallic clunk. The force rocked her head to the side at an angle that would have incapacitated a human but did little to free him. Through his blurry, darkened vision he then saw hands clutching at the mask, pulling at it until they tore it loose. Then the powerful hands at his neck fell away and he gulped sweet air as he tumbled to the ground.

As life rushed back into him, he looked up to see Wayne and Bianca’s concerned faces. Wayne held a shovel like a combat staff and Bianca had the mask pinched between finger and thumb like a dirty diaper. Angie lay completely dead again.

Isaac sat up with their help just in time to see the Gorilla perched on the edge of the barn behind them. “Look out,” he whispered hoarsely.

The Gorilla leaped from the top of the barn, tentacles dragging behind it like streamers. It was a fearsome sight to behold and when it landed the ground trembled. If the beast had taken immediate advantage of the open field and rushed them, the game would have been quickly finished. Instead, it reared up, stood to full height, and preceded to pound its chest, Kong style, with the tentacles waving frenziedly above it. A bit of pre-victory theatrics for the viewers back home Isaac mused. While impressive, the display proved to be a tactical error, as it gave him just enough time for his oxygen-deprived brain to unscramble.

From the Everbag, Isaac pulled the stoning rock, now coated with layers of resin, bone dust, ash, and gun powder. He drew back his arm, remembered that he was, in general, about as athletic as a toddler, and handed it to Bianca. “Pitch,” he croaked and pointed.

The woman had good instincts. She asked no questions and showed no hint of disbelief. She’d seen enough to trust the plan and fell into a pitcher’s stance. Just as the Gorilla dropped to all fours and thundered toward them, she hurled the stone. Isaac watched its flight path, knowing they had only one shot at it. If Bianca missed, they were dead.

The rock impacted like a cannonball strike. A concussive blast and split-second ball of flame made the trio avert their eyes, but when the smoke cleared the beast was down.