Chapters (Just a note to all, this is my first, ever, fan fic and I probably won't do more.)
It was in the middle of winter, and the snow dripped from the sky leaving their tiny ice crystals plastered over the ground while the others were stepped on were the creators left there hoof prints...but for the few who have to endure the cold, for they were the workmen, it has more hazardous than anything. They were constantly drilling in day and in out just to make it by, but most of it was normal for them...they were stocky, built up, roughed up by their worked, and eventually got used to it since it was a regular day to them, but what had done would destroy their establishment forever....
The morning after the resurrection of Stitches there were many counts of fires erupting across Everfree, Ponyville, and even in Canterlot! There were robberies, and many counts of burst pipes in houses almost everywhere.
While the trickster traveled across Equestria, he seemed to keep having thoughts of his master which only filled him more. Everywhere he went. From Baltimare to Canterlot he seemed to think of him and how his master brought him to life to protect him…yet he was defeated and his master must’ve taken the most intolerable punishment. “It’s okay, Master….I’ll make them pay!” He said while tears seemed to form in his eyes…he couldn’t even cry, he used his magic to create fake tears.
Early that day, as Stitches made a trip to the Everfree forest, remembering the old, almost invisible path it took to get to his Master’s house. The wind howled and slammed against his body as he saw through the brush of a tree, the remains of his Master’s house. He seemed attracted to it as he saw the dust that gathered around the picket fence. He pushed open the gate that had a broken bottom hinge to see the door, completely removed and even busted down from the house. Inside, the remnants, or at least the unbroken remains lay on the floor. Everything was gathering dust…even the bed and the sheets that covered them had dust like it was last used a hundred years ago…which would’ve been accurate. He entered his room…where he slept or at least attempted to sleep and found it didn’t collect dust. It seemed used and clean. The bed was made, his window was closed, his pillow fluffed and his desk….had a note. He instantly was gravitating around the note as he held it in his fiery aura of magic. He skimmed it over, and it turned out to be braille. Obviously with his Master’s knowledge, he naturally remembered how to read it. He skimmed his hoof over the note.
Suddenly, the chest exploded into a wild decay of dust and debris, revealing the insides of the medieval and ancient chest.
The clerk seemed curious about the doll’s inscription and proceeded to prop it up on his desk with it facing him. His hoof took hold of the doll’s right leg, and pulled lightly so it wouldn’t harm or disfigure the toll…it made a “CRANK!” noise like a machine, then suddenly… like magic, a great cloud of blackness engulfed poor Antique and the doll….He made a loud scream of surprise before he was silenced with stitches, covering his mouth, legs, ears, and neck. His eyes were replaced with buttons and his sized shrink to that of the doll while the doll changed in a different way.