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A dirt parking lot illuminated by spotlights greeted them. A large building towered in front of them surrounded on both sides by trashed structures that appeared to be heavily worked on. The large building looked new with frequent upkeep; lights flooded from it in all directions. The buildings lights passed over the dimmer lights from the shoddy buildings like a wave crashing over rocks. The surrounding structures were almost rotted down to their skeletons but jury rigged together enough to provide a somewhat dependable shelter.

“Go through that door there in the big building and talk to the receptionist for your essentials”

A strict looking woman in a business suit holding a clipboard stood in front of them. Stitches paid attention expecting an orientation.

“What are you lot waiting for?” An annoyed look crossed her face “Stop wasting my time”

The new contracts looked at each other curiously and began to walk.

The guard leaned out of the bus door “Oy, Vic! Werner ate it”

Vic looked back “Yes I heard”

“You see his head yet?”

“No, it was just a radio report”

“pshhh” the guard pulled himself back in.

Stitches entered the building last his curiosity peaked by the appropriation of the surrounding ruins. Vic quickly scribbled something onto her clipboard and kicked the door shut behind him.

The room was oddly businesslike with a receptionist desk, overhead lights and hallways stretching away with many rooms buzzing about with activity. A man in a suit patiently waited at the desk. A stack of duffel bags with tags tied to their straps laid behind him.

The metamorph closest, took a step towards the desk “uh”

Before he could finish putting his thought together the man interrupted him, handing him one of the duffels, “follow the directions on that tag to find your assigned room.”

He looked at the tag, then back at the man, then back at the tag.

“Next.” the man spoke.

The metamorph slowly walked away, pulling the tag off and staring at it.

The queue that formed soon emptied and Stitches was handed his duffel bag.

“Follow the directions on that tag”

“Hey uh, I’m hungry,” Stitches grunted. He wasn’t really that hungry but he wanted to have a little more information than just, ‘follow the tag’

“Read the manual,” the man snapped back and quickly typed away at a laptop

Stitches thought for a moment, but irritated with his dismissive attitude he sucked his teeth and decided to push it a bit further, “C’mon, don’t be an ass just tell me where they serve it.”

The man glared at him and his typing slowed “Can you not fucking read you stupid piece of shit?” he snarled back.

Stitches was taken aback by the sudden escalation of his hostility, “Sheesh…”

The man turned back towards the computer and his typing began to speed up again

Stitches opened his mouth to say something but turned and left instead. He tore the tag off and had a look while his shoulder pushed the door open.

“East from the parking lot, building C11, cot 13…”

Stitches looked around the empty parking lot “which ways east?” he rubbed his neck.

He took two steps forward away from the building and looked side to side, “the hell?” he muttered

He turned back towards the building questioning if it was a good idea to bother that man again and his eyes focused on a piece of paper half taped to the wall, fluttering in the breeze. He pushed it flat to the wall and saw two arrows labeled east and west. “Oh…”

He turned east and began to walk towards the dimly lit structures. A wooden sign hung from the nearest building’s drainpipe reading “A1”. He frowned and looked around at the other buildings nearby, “A2, B1, B2, C1,” his eyes lit up as he walked towards C1 “ah I get it, they’re in rows.”

He followed the line of buildings, stepping along a ruined sidewalk littered with trash and broken streetlights. He turned his attention to the ground and he began to aim his heels for the glass to hear the satisfying crunch noise. His ears twitched as he heard a similar sound coming from his front. A four-armed metamorph approached; one arm holding the strap of his duffel while the others held the pockets of his jeans at different angles to avoid bumping each other as he walked. His expression was sour and his eyes looked far past Stitches.

Stitches waved with a smile “What’s got ya so riled up?”

The metamorph paused and looked towards him “Huh?! Have you seen the cots yet?!” his face reddened “This freakin place is a hole, man!” His lower set of hands met together and he cracked his knuckles, “That pissant receptionist is about to get the earful of his life.”

Stitches crossed his arms “Heh… I’d watch out doing that. I only tested him a bit and he almost bit my head off.”

“Ill take my chances,” he sighed, “I’m Saul by the way,” he said as he passed.

“Stitches,” he waved again and turned away.

He approached a crumbly brick building held together by wood planks, rebar buttresses and chain wrappings.

“C11” he sighed then entered through an open door. It was a large empty interior, save for a couple load-bearing beams left over from a knocked down wall. The floor was a mess with construction scraps and trash peppering dusty concrete. Canvas dividers acting like makeshift rooms with privacy curtains sat in rows facing each other. Past those, a set of stairs that had long since collapsed into rubble leaned against the back wall. Flickering bulbs haphazardly hung down from the ceiling spreading long shadows from the metal poles the canvas dividers draped from.

Stitches walked to the back towards a rope latter that hung in place of the stairs. He glanced into a cot with its privacy curtain still open. A girl wearing a red striped jumpsuit with a white undershirt wrapping her face, rifled through her duffel while sitting on a hammock.

Stitches remembered seeing her getting on the bus before him. He stared at her back as she climbed aboard intrigued by the odd shapes under her clothes.

She retrieved a packaged bar and seemed to be satisfied opening it. She began to pull down the shirt that covered her face. Segmented antennae unfurled from her mask along with thick black hair. Her antennae twitched in the air and she turned to meet stitches eyes pulling the mask back above her nose. A look of surprise decorated her bushy eyebrows as she stared at him.

Stitches stuttered an apology and quickened his pace. Behind him the privacy curtained whipped closed and he began to climb the rope ladder hoping he hadn’t just made an enemy out of a red stripe. He climbed to the top and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a paper sign hanging from a cot in the back that read 13. As he approached, a curtain opened from his right and tall figure stooped down smiling at him.

Startled, he stepped back “huh…”

The metamorphs’s skin was unnaturally white and her hair was streaked with almost translucent follicles that gave it a gray appearance. She ducked under the curtain rod and walked out towards Stitches, still happily smiling. Stitches took another step back and realized his legs were assuming a combat stance. He couldn’t help it; her jet-black eyes staring down on him were just too imposing. Her body looked like she was grabbed from her arms and legs and stretched out. The fuzzy sweater she wore with a picture of a smiling kitten almost made him laugh at the irony of it.

Her long skinny arms met together and she finally spoke to Stitches relief “Ah! I’m so happy! I was so scared I’d be all alone up here”

Stitches felt his shoulders loosen a bit “O-oh…”

Her fingers locked together and rose to her stomach, “You’re that talkative one from the bus right? I remember your voice” she sighed “I was so bored on the drive over, nobody wanted to talk to me. If only I sat next to you, all the others just ignored me” she pouted

“Uh… Yea I guess…” Stitches relaxed and adjusted the strap of his duffel “I’m Stitches” he held out his hand.

She happily took it in both hands, her long fingers wrapped around it completely. “I’m Angel! I’ve never made friends with another metamorph before!”

“I haven’t much either before today now that I think about it” Stitches loosened his hand hoping she’d let go

She didn’t “All my friends were humans my mommy introduced me to. You’re the first one I’ve ever made by myself!”

Stitches pulled slightly and she eventually let go “Mommy? I’ve never heard anyone your size refer to their mom that way” he nervously chuckled

She blushed embarrassed “Well how do you refer to your mother?”

“Guess I’d call her mom? I wouldn’t know, she gave me up”

She looked shocked “Oh no that’s terrible! No one should grow up without a mother! Without her your development would be stunted!”

“Well, I made it fine enough so far”

“Yes! I’m impressed you were strong enough to live independently at an early age! Your genes must be pretty strong for you to avoid being torn apart by dogs!” she giggled

Stitches raised an eyebrow. The way this girl talked, it was like she saw him less as a person and more like an animal she was studying. “You actually turned yourself in didn't you?

“My mommy did” she tapped her thumbs together “my powers started to develop a couple weeks ago so she had to”

“What can you do?”

“They called me a fleshmolder!” she grinned

What a morbid sounding name.

He glanced into her room to see a regular sized hammock. “Can you sleep in that?” he asked.

A worried expression crossed her face “I’m supposed to sleep in that? I can’t fit!”

Stitches thought for a moment “maybe we can fix it”

“We can?”

He walked into her cot and unhooked one side of her hammock, pulled the pin out of the bar attached and tossed it to the ground. He left and entered an empty cot and did the same with the hammock he found there.

“W-wait! You can’t steal theirs!”

Stitches shrugged “Aint no one using it right?”

“I suppose…”

“Then no harm done” he searched through his duffel and found a multi tool

Angel twisted her toes into the floor anxiously “I’ve never stolen anything before…”

Stitches carried the hammock parts back to her cot and attached the two bases together with the pins. “I have. If there’s no one to miss it, no one comes looking to take it back” He had to angle the longer base for it to fit in the small space. It fit but the bottom parts stuck out slightly beneath the dividers.

Angel cocked her head at him.

Stitches cut the ropes at the ends of the two hammocks and tied them together tightly, “Alright! Come try it out” he grinned satisfied with his ingenuity.

Angel walked in and jumped onto the cot with a “Hup!”

Stitches eyes widened and his body jolted half expecting the force of her landing to rip right through his work.

Angel swung slightly in her new hammock, “Yay it works! Thanks Stitches!”

Stitches let out a sigh of relief at the sturdiness of the knots he tied “gnight then” picking up his bag, he walked towards his cot

Angels voice called back to him “Goodnight! Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

Stitches entered his cot and pulled the privacy curtain closed. His shoulders sank as he recovered from the odd encounter. A hammock, a lockbox and a desk with a chair occupied the otherwise empty space. “That’s it huh?” he mumbled

He sat down in the hammock and dug through his duffel, pushing a ration and blankets out of the way until finally finding the manual he heard so much about. He yawned as he flipped through its pages glossing over the pictures and guides included. He stopped as he found some handwriting and inspected it “What did I get an old one?”

The page was about equipment rentals, but written with marker was the message, “bullshit, don’t rent from Prospector”. Stitches flipped further finding other messages either correcting information, blacking it out or giving very biased opinions on what should be done instead of how the manual instructed one to. Stitches let out another yawn and tossed the book back into the duffel. “I’ll deal with all that tomorrow” he mumbled laying back into the hammock.

The hammock creaked as his weight settled into it, soon the creaks faded and Stitches began to dream.

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