Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-32200119-20170604152908

Creepypasta Charlotte Sews

Charlotte Wells laid flat on her stomach in the grass watching a small dotted ladybug make its way across a fallen leaf. Discarded behind her, was the needle and thread her mother had told her to use in order to practice her sewing on a chunk of a flower patterned piece of cloth. Charlotte watched as the ladybug unfolded it's wings and flew off into the sky. She sighed sadly and sat up. Charlotte picked up the cloth and once again began sewing it. She eventually got easily bored and set it aside once more. Charlotte hated sewing, she was already good at it and didn't see much of a reason for practicing, but her mother insisted on her to be a 'proper' young woman. Leaning against the giant oak tree, she folded her arms across her chest. Closing her eyes softly, letting her ears fill in with all the wondrous sounds of nature, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Darkness engulfed everything. No matter how hard she tried, Charlotte could not and would not be able to see anything. Thunder crashed all around, echoing against large walls that could not be seen. Streaks of lightning darting down, but too fast to illuminate the room. Charlotte began walking forward...or was she? She felt herself moving forward, but was she really going anywhere? The blackness was maddening, shoving psychotic feelings into her body. Pressure was being applied everywhere, squeezing her inside herself. Then came the laugh. The deep, crackly, laugh. The laughter surrounded her. It was an unsettling laugh, a deranged laugh. The owner of the laughs voice echoing across the room, saying only one thing; "I am your master. I am your master. I am your master..."

Charlotte awoke with a start. Rubbing her tired hazel eyes, she let out a yawn. "Charlotte." Charlotte gave a startled cry when she looked up and saw her mother towering over her. "Have you finished sewing already?" Her mother asked pursing her lips. Charlotte looked down at the grass. Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Well? Have you?" She demanded tapping her foot impatiently. Charlotte carefully pulled the piece of cloth from behind her back, along with the needle and thread. She watched as her mother snatched them from her grip, clucking her tongue, and shaking her head with a disapproving look. "How do expect to get better if you don't practice? How do you expect to get married if you aren't ladylike? How do except to be successful if you don't listen?" Her mother scolded. Tears formed in Charlotte's eyes. "Father would never do this to me!" She shouted, "Father would understand!" "I do understand, Charlotte. I understand that it was a huge mistake to have ever of had a daughter like you. You, Charlotte, should understand that your stupid ass father is dead." Her mother retorted and with one swift motion grabbed a fistful of Charlotte's  dark brown hair. "We are going home!" Her mother said, yanking Charlotte's hair hard. Charlotte screamed. "Let go of me you evil witch!" Through her tears, Charlotte eyed the needle on the ground, that must have fallen from her mothers hand. Charlotte scooped it up, and without thinking twice, stabbed her mother in the thigh. "You little son of a bitch!" She screeched and kicked Charlotte in the stomach. Charlotte ran, trying her best to ignore the nausea and pain that had swept over her, she ran as fast as she could, away from the grove she had grown up in and had gotten to know so well. As she lay on the side of the road, panting, tears ran down her cheeks. Of course she knew her mother was a an abusive drunk. She also knew she couldn't go back home. All the other times she had been abused were different, her mother never seemed angry, and was quite clueless on what was going on, but what had just happened had scared Charlotte. She knew her mother loved her, despite her addiction to alcohol, but was scared. Charlotte remembered when her mother was kind to her, and didn't hurt her. But that was a long time ago, when Charlotte was just four years old. She was thirteen now, and knew it was time to stop getting caught in the past and fend for herself. Charlotte heard something in the distance and sat up. A small caravan with the words Mister Delphini's Traveling Sideshow, sloppily painted on the side pulled to a stop right in front of her. Heart beating fast, and eyes wide, she stared as a man and woman stepped out of it. The man, was enormous with gargantuan sized hands and a neck as thick as a tree trunk. He must have been blind in one eye because it was clouded over, with a deep slash across the eyelid. Scars covered his face, he was missing bits and pieces from a variety of body parts. A chunk was missing from his ear, along with his nose, and Charlotte could have swore he was lacking some fingers, but wasn't sure because his hands were covered up with black leather gloves. He had a scruffy dark beard and long tangled hair that ran down his back. The woman, who was speaking fluently in Russian, was equally unattractive. She had a long pointed nose that was crooked at the end, and was so skinny she could be considered a skeleton. Her skin was frayed and wrinkled, and had the horrible hue of bright orange, that hinted the use of a fake spray tan. Her hair was also dark and tangled and was plastered up into place on the top of her head with a great amount of hairspray. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of Charlotte. She muttered something in Russian and pointed at her. The man gave a small chuckle. Something about the two made Charlotte uneasy, especially the man, but more importantly his voice, something seemed too familiar about it... "Hello, Child." The man boomed, he had a Russian accent, "what are you doing here?" Charlotte wiped her remaining tears with her dirt covered hands, smearing fresh mud on her face. "My-" The Russian speaking woman interrupted Charlotte and whispered something to the man. "So your mother is insane, abusive, yes?" He grinned. It was a horrible grin. He had barely any teeth, and the ones he did have were blackened and decayed. Charlotte had a loss of words and just nodded fastly. "Poor Child." The man said frowning, "how can Mister Delphini help?" Charlotte shrugged nervously. "Are you- really- Mister Delphini?" She asked voice shaking. "Yes, Child." He answered, "I am, and Mister Delphini promises he can help." Mister Delphini stared at Charlotte, well maybe he wasn't trying to stare, but whenever he looked at her it was as if his expression were completely blank. "Come with us, Charlotte. You can be extravagant! You can be the star of our show! Come with us, Charlotte." Mister Delphini said grinning his sickening grin. Charlotte's eyes glistened with both hope and fear. How did he know her name, and how did he know about her mother? But she tossed the questions to the side. "You mean it?" She asked. "Why of course, Alyona and I have always wanted a child." He said gesturing to the woman, who was now filing her long green fingernails intently. "Alright, it's a deal." Charlotte said and glanced nervously behind her shoulder. But she had no idea what she really signed up for...

Months had passed since the Delphini's had taken in Charlotte as their own. Charlotte was now very used to her act in the traveling sideshow. She had to act as a human marionette on stage, with fake strings attached to her arms to make it look as if she was a real puppet. Charlotte's act had become one of the best and most successful out of all of the acts in the Delphini Traveling Sideshow. One day after she had finished with a performance, Mister Delphini had pulled her aside, backstage. "My audience is complaining you are not real enough my child. We are going to have to make some adjustments, and by we I mean you." He told her. "Like what?" She asked casually. Mister Delphini pulled a small, ugly, wrapped box out of his coat pocket. "I have a gift for you. Use it well." He said and let out a laugh. Charlotte shivered, she still hated that laugh. Charlotte went into her assigned dressing room. Carefully, she pulled the red silk ribbon off the yellowed box. Inside was a needle and thread with a note. My dearest child, if you would, I'd like you to sew this into your face, don't worry it won't hurt,...maybe. Even in the note she could hear the bone chilling laugh of the ringmaster. It haunted her, bouncing off the walls of her mind until it was a nonexistent hum. She turned the needle over in her hands. The silver shone in the low light. It was almost hypnotizing. The thread was a deep chocolate brown that would stand out against her own pale skin. Puzzled, she set them down on her vanity and stared at her own reflection. The dim lighting cast odd shadows across the room, hiding in unusual places. She saw the eyes of the ringmaster everywhere, watching her, listening to her every move. Charlotte shivered and hugged herself. It's just a joke. She thought, why would he ever make me do this? The door opened behind her and Charlotte jumped. "Charlotte, my child. Do you like it?" Mister Delphini put his giant leather gloved hands on Charlotte's shoulders. "This is a joke, right?" "Whatever are you babbling about my child? This is for the show!" He said enthusiastically, "You are going to appeal to my audience, are you not?" Charlotte didn't know what to say. No, she did. No, of course not, was her answer, but her mouth just gaped. "Isn't this a little- too much for just a show?" She asked nervously, fidgeting with her fingers. Mister Delphini frowned. "You do not wish to appeal to my audience?" He asked, voice rising. An unsettling feeling ran down Charlotte's spine. She had to leave now. "You're insane." She said, backing up to the door. Now the ringmaster looked truly terrifying. His blind eye twitched and his hands were balled into fists, he grinned his horrible grin then threw back his head and laughed his horrible laugh. "It's a shame you just discovered that now." Charlotte reached for the door handle but found the hand of Alyona instead. Charlotte almost cried out. Alyona smiled sadly. Her eyes screamed only one thing; Go! The lights began to flicker on and off a non-explanatory wind whistled through the room flinging papers left and right. The ringmaster's laughter filled the room. Just as Charlotte was about to turn the door knob everything went dark.

Charlotte awoke to the blinding of a million lights. She was on the stage again, she prepared herself to run but found herself instead dancing. Dancing to soft classical music that was being played somewhere above. Charlotte tried stopping her legs, but couldn't. She looked down. Strings were attached to her limbs and continued to reach up to the ceiling. "I am your master, I am your master, I am your master... Dance my marionette!" A voice all to familiar rang from up above. Mister Delphini, the ringmaster. Next to her stood Alyona, she had strings sewn into her skin too. "Alyona!" Charlotte called. No response. Alyona turned around. She was dead. The ringmaster had killed her and turned her corpse into a marionette puppet. Charlotte felt a wave of nausea sweep over her and was violently sick all over the stage. The crowd screamed in something either of delight or pure horror, or maybe even both. Slowly the curtains began to close and Charlotte was forced into a bow. "Looks as if we are having some technical difficulties, that's all for tonight, and thank you for coming!" The ringmaster's voice said. All of a sudden, Charlotte felt whatever was holding her up release her. She fell to the floor, unable to control her limbs. Charlotte heard a laugh behind her, that laugh. The ringmaster walked in front of her grinning widely. "My dearest, you should have listened." He said darkly. "Let me go!" Charlotte tried shouting, but her mouth wouldn't function properly. The sides of it had been stitched shut, leaving little space for her to talk. Her voice was gentle, miserable, and quiet. "Why, I can not do that my child. I need you. My audience loves you. I am making a fortune off of you." Mister Delphini said, "just like I did with her." He nodded toward the floating body of Alyona. Fear crept through Charlotte's body. She didn't know what to do. She was trapped. "Now where in the world did I leave those scissors..." Charlotte froze. Charlotte had always kept a pair of fabric scissors inside her costume pocket in case she needed to touch up the fabric. The ringmaster needed those scissors. Stealthily, she put her hand inside the back pocket of the elegant baby blue dress. The ringmaster continued searching, and didn't notice as Charlotte cut the strings on her arms, legs, and back. He had his back turned to her as he stroked his beard in confusion. Charlotte stood up wobbling on her legs, it felt weird to be able to have control again. She held the scissors behind her back and slowly crept up on him. Just as he turned around she plunged the scissors into his chest and watched as he fall dead to the ground, a look of surprise still etched on his face. She laughed while doing so. Charlotte wrenched the scissors out of his chest and watched as the blood squelched as it gushed out. A warm metallic smell fills the air, but Charlotte doesn't mind. Something about the smell, comforts Charlotte. She's not finished yet. With one final act, she pulls out a needle and thread and begins stitching his mouth and eyes closed. When she's done, she smiles at her work. Now you'll never be able to laugh or see me again. Then she leaves a small note by the corpse before running away into the night. This is what it read;

To whoever finds this,

This man imprisoned me for months on end. He was a psychotic madman and deserved what fate gave him. His name is Alexander Delphini, he ran the Mister Delphini Traveling Sideshow. He enjoyed luring children, particularly young girls, to his act only so he could make them do morbid things in order to make easy cash. I would like to say that however he might be dead, part of his spirit lives on inside of me. It haunts me day after day, and I feel the need to satisfy an urge that I have never had the need to satisfy. Yes, maybe I have gone slightly mad after spending so much time here, but I enjoy sewing people. My mother always knew sewing would be an important skill to use in my life, and she was right. Sewing the mouths and eyelids closed of my victims has become a sort of new hobby for me. Of course, I will have to murder people in order to perform this act, and I am ever so obliged to do so. There are so many bad people in our world who deserve to be murdered and those few good spirits who have to be sacrificed as well. Thank you for all you have given me, and maybe I will meet you sometime, and have the pleasure of sewing you.

Love, Charlotte Stitches

Shhh, it won't hurt a bit... but it will a lot. 