The Shopkeeper
The old man watched him go, as he watched others before him go. The door handle turned easily in Mr. Copper's free hand and disappeared in the crowd. The old shopkeeper chuckled to himself; if Mr. Copper had doubts and wanted to leave without the box, the store would trap him until he gives into the curiosity, but now, since he purchased it, there was no need for that devilish trick. Mad men would do anything just to get out, it seems…
Such poor, greedy beings, humans are…
With a groan and a long stretch, the old man reached over his head and pulled a hidden string in his mangled tattered hair. As he pulled the string tighter, the old man felt the corners of his skin tug and flex as he unlaced the invisible stitches at the base of his skull. He hoped that he didn't tie the hair to his skin during his rush to meet Mr. Copper, or else they would have another earful of the terrible service.
"I wish that dammed messenger would die already so they can replace that old bat," he mumbled to himself, his lips flapping violently out of place, "at least a new one would give me more time to dress myself up better…" With an exhale breath the old man's face fell off, revealing red, glistening muscles; he sighed and massaged each strand of his cheeks and exposed bones. "The heat feels pleasurable," he mused as the suns raise reflected of his slimy surface, "It like I'm alive again."
Hey reader(s)… Like I said at the beginning, this is my first story ever posted and already I messed up… If anyone was ever annoyed with "What is your pleasure I-III"… sorry! Still new at this, but I promise I will tame this beasty and serve you an fun story of tragedy and sacrifice. So bare with me! ~S.H.
