The Patchwork Girl

By Sebastian Bendix

What could be worse for a 16 year-old girl than waking up to find that your skin has transformed into a bizarre, calico patchwork? For Padget Beaumont, the answer is: a lot. Looking like a freak turns out to be the least of her problems when Padget is chased from high school into a nightmare dimension where science is superstition and the supernatural is real. There she finds herself caught between an arcane city full of vampires, demons and witches and a religious zealot intent on burning it all down. Her only hope is to find her father, an expatriate scientist hiding out somewhere among the towering Gothic spires and dank, twisting catacombs. But when Padget falls in love with a roguish demon possessed by the soul of a troubled teenaged boy, she must confront the most terrifying truth of all to save him: who she really is.
The Patchwork Girl is a dark fantasy novel for young adults that will appeal to fans of Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The adventures of The Patchwork Girl promise to draw the reader in with action, romance and fantasy while at the same time addressing the real-world issues that trouble both young and adult readers alike.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sebastian Bendix
• Release date: Jan 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310615283

Sebastian Bendix

Sebastian Bendix is a Los Angeles based writer and musician, as well as founder of horror film series, Friday Night Frights. He attended school at Emerson College for creative writing and spent his formative years in Boston playing in popular local band The Ghost of Tony Gold. Upon moving to LA he shifted his focus back to writing and began contributing articles to entertainment websites such as CHUD.com and the print publication Mean Magazine. However, his true passion lies in the realm of horror fiction. Bendix has found success both online and in print with numerous stories published in genre imprints and noted podcast The Wicked Library. In 2013, Bendix self-published his first horror/fantasy novel titled "The Patchwork Girl." This was followed by his second novel, "The Stronghold," a thrilling story inspired by real-life events, which has been published and is available digitally and in print. Alongside his writing endeavors, Sebastian Bendix is also a devoted film lover. He has made contributions to a science fiction anthology film called "Portals," released in October 2019. Recently, Bendix completed "Hell Bent for Heather", a horror novel in the style of Stephen King that he hopes will be the definitive take on heavy metal horror, it is currently out to publishers. He also just published "Hollow Jack & the Blood Curse of Blackwater", the first in a series of western horror novellas centered around a supernatural gunslinger. Sebastian Bendix's diverse background in writing, music, and film influences his unique storytelling style, making him a notable figure in the world of horror fiction. Bendix currently resides in Atlanta with his wife Jennifer and their supermutt Annie.

Book preview

The Patchwork Girl

By Sebastian Bendix

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Sebastian Bendix

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER ONE

Tap tap tap…. 

She hadn’t seen the bird land on the sill, hadn’t heard the fluttering of its oily black wings. But the tapping drew her attention. She turned and found herself staring into the blank, red-rimmed eyes of a large crow.

Tap tap tap…

    Ms. Beaumont, if I may coax you back to reality.

Padget Beaumont was dimly aware of her name being called but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the crow. She was transfixed. The bird looked at her with instinctual hatred and slammed its beak into the glass, splintering it with a TAP! Her face, the cause of much recent concern, was segmented in the cracked reflection.

    Ms. Beaumont!

She turned to the source of the intrusion. At the head of the typically suburban classroom, her algebra teacher, Mr. Mather, stood expectantly before a chalkboard scribbled with an elaborate equation. She was being called on to answer it. The duty and dread of every high school student. And at this moment Padget was woefully unprepared. She caught a quick glance back at the window to see if the crow was still there, offering an escape from this dreary schoolgirl reality. But the crow was gone. 

    Do you have the answer or not?

Her head snapped back to find Mather’s cold, cruel eyes narrowing on her. She silently cursed her luck. The clock on the wall mocked her, a solid minute stood between her and the period-ending ring of freedom. There was to be no escaping. She would have to suffer the humiliation of Mather’s scorn, feel the sting of his ridicule in front of the entire class. Maybe it wasn’t a school shooting or a viral outbreak or a nuclear war, but at this very moment it felt like an apocalypse. One more tiny cataclysm to toss on the pile of what was turning out to be an exceptionally bad day.

It had started the way her mornings often did, being pulled reluctantly out of a dream. Today’s featured a boy she had been kissing, a boy with dark hair. She assumed she had been dreaming of Daniel, but now, as the dream faded into memory, she wasn’t sure. In truth it could have been anyone. All she could remember was that he was handsome and that he could never, ever be hers.

She had spent the next few minutes staring at her personal alarm clock, a three-foot plus Ball Python covered in random, diamond-shaped patterns. As always, Sundown’s slatted green eyes looked blankly back. She mentally traced his body winding through the hills and valleys of her bedcovers, then rubbed his arrow-shaped head, as was tradition. You jerk, I was enjoying that, she scolded lovingly. By way of apology he leaned into her hand, enjoying the rub. For a reptile his behavior was positively feline. She often wondered if he had been a cat in a past life.

On the subject of past lives, Padget had been wishing lately that she was on to her next one. Things had been going from bad to worse since she turned sixteen, and just when it seemed to be getting a little better, her father had suddenly disappeared. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. She got out of bed and set her mind to preparing for another day of high school. Not a pleasant proposition itself, but better to think about school than dad and his inexplicable absence.

Padget padded across the cold wood floor to her dresser. On it was a CD player. Old school. Padget liked CDs. She liked to hold them, look at the artwork, photos. Read the liner notes. She had an iPod like everyone else, but listening to CDs start to finish was the way she liked her music best, especially when she was alone in her room. Which was a lot these days.

She checked her iPhone, which was also on the dresser. Force of habit. She had forgotten to charge it and it was almost dead. No matter; there were no calls, no texts – no messages of any kind. Up until recently it had been like an extra appendage, its constant usage driving mom crazy. Now, she might as well not even take it to school. Just one more way she’d be labeled the class freak.

She didn’t have to pop the lid to know what was in the CD player. Violator  by Depeche Mode. It had become her favorite album in the past few months. It might be her favorite album of all time now. She hit the power, skipped forward a few tracks to Policy of Truth. The winding, snaky synth-bass kicked in. It always made her want to dance. Padget had no idea if she was actually a good dancer; she only ever did it alone in her room. She wasn’t really interested in criticism frankly – she got enough of that in school. She let the music set her feet in motion, and following the rhythm she danced a musical path across her room to the bathroom. It wasn’t much of a dance, but as far as starting the day was concerned, it was good enough.

Waiting for the shower to get hot took the usual five-plus minutes. Mom wasn’t too up on fixing plumbing issues. It was annoying, but there wasn’t much point in making a stink about it. There were bigger battles to fight. A few tracks later, the room filled with steam and Padget disrobed and stepped into the cascade of hot water. The auburn dye was still rinsing out of her hair, cascading down her legs in red rivulets. In an effort to cheer her up, mom had agreed to let her do whatever she wanted with her hair and even suggested crazy colors like electric blue or magenta. But Padget wasn’t looking to draw undue attention these days. She wanted to blend in, to fade into the woodwork. So auburn it was. She watched mesmerized as a little whirlpool of reddish brown made a swirl down the bathtub drain.

Down the drain. That pretty much summed up how life had gone in the past year. But again, best not to dwell. She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, allowing the crisp New England air to shock her out of this spiraling thought pattern. She wrapped a fresh towel around herself and went to the mirror, wiping the fog from the glass. She loved her shaggy new haircut, though she swore she heard mom’s heart breaking when the hairdresser chopped off her girly-girl locks. Oh well, mom could keep her own hair the way she liked it; long and natural. Padget tousled her hair into a satisfyingly messy look and leaned in to see what surprises may have manifested on her face during the night.

At first, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. There weren’t any zits; her complexion had cleared up with the passing of her awkward phase. No, the thing she saw on her right cheek was more accurately described as a blemish – a patch of skin that was a slightly darker color than her normal, pale skin tone. It could have been a sunspot but it looked too large, and this had been a particularly gloomy October. She was prone to freckles, and normally a patch of them crested the bridge of her nose, but she had spent so much time indoors lately that they had faded. Whatever it was on her face, it wasn’t a freckle.

It was troubling to say the least.

Padget thought about telling her mom right away. What if this was some form of skin cancer? Mom was generally pretty levelheaded about things, but Padget could see this turning into an emergency trip to the dermatologist, and she really didn’t feel like spending the afternoon in a doctor’s office. It was the first day of gymnastics try-outs, and being one of the few school related activities she still enjoyed, Padget didn’t want to miss it. Better to apply some cover-up and see what the situation was tomorrow morning. So that’s exactly what she did.

She put her apprehension aside and went about the process of getting ready for school, selecting a pair of skinny jeans and a cool olive top to wear. She had been gravitating to natural browns and greens lately as they brought out the color of her eyes. Her favorite accessory was a leather wrist-band that gave her a satisfying tomboy vibe, plus it went well with the lace-up boots she bought with the money she made from her summer job at the plant nursery. Padget looked at herself in the floor length mirror, pleased at the overall effect. It was a subtly stylish look but one that didn’t demand attention. In the warm natural light of the room her make-up job was flawless. If she squinted, the troubling blemish was barely even noticeable.

Sundown slithered into the room and lifted his head, seeming to share in the admiration of her reflection. He flicked his tongue with approval. Her friends, when she had them, had always found her choice of pet to be unsettling. But Padget hadn’t cared then and certainly didn’t care now. She bent down and petted Sundown’s scaly head, and went about her business with as much cheer as she could muster. She grabbed her bag off the floor, picked up her school books from the dresser and headed out the door.

Breakfast had been the usual yogurt and granola, followed by the daily debate over school lunch. Padget was campaigning for money to buy lunch, but mom wasn’t going for it. The school lunches aren’t organic, she said for what must have been the millionth time. Not organic was her mantra. So yet another day of the slightly embarrassing brown bag lunch. Then it was in to the Hybrid for the drive to school.

The car smelled like sandalwood – mom’s favorite scent and the bane of Padget’s olfactory system. As the dreary Massachusetts suburb passed by the rain-speckled windows, Padget struggled with her own stormy mood. She had been telling herself all morning that she wasn’t going to dwell on dad’s disappearance and had no intention of breaching the subject with her mother. But this depressing landscape stirred it up somehow, and she just couldn’t help herself.

    So, how long has it been now? Four months?

Mom’s lips drew into a tight straight line. Only three I think.

    "Only three?" Padget said incredulously, putting her boot-sole on the dashboard. Mom glanced at it with disapproval but held her tongue. If this is how her daughter chose to act out, so be it.

     How hard would it be to make a phone call, or send an email? He’s a scientist, I’m sure he could figure it out.

    Whatever he’s doing, he’s deep into it, mom said. She resented the excuse-making her husband’s neglect forced upon her. He doesn’t like distractions.

    Is that what I am? A distraction? The pain in Padget’s voice couldn’t have been more evident.

    Bad choice of words honey. I’m sorry.

    But true, Padget said. The car took a turn towards the school and the tires made a swooshing sound in the rain. Mom put an instinctive arm of protection across her daughter, as she did whenever the slightest danger arose on the road. It was sweet. Slightly embarrassing, but sweet.

    "Padget, your father is a brilliant man. But I’m afraid he isn’t a very smart one."

    Is that supposed to make me feel better? Padget was already regretting opening her stupid mouth. She needed to learn to listen to her inner voice.

    Dad loves you very much, that’s all I can tell you. He’s very proud of you. Mom smiled, tickled by a memory. He always referred to you as his ‘greatest achievement’.

    That’s just weird, Padget protested, squirming in her seat. Mom smiled, enjoying her daughter’s discomfort.

    Well, the man is anything but conventional, but what can I say? We’re an unconventional family.

The car slowed a half-block from school. Sondra wasn’t so clueless as to drop her pariah daughter off right in front, and her pariah daughter appreciated that. She pulled into the curb and put the car into park. Here we are, heaven on earth.

    Leave the sarcasm to the professionals, mom.

    Tough crowd, mom sighed. She looked at Padget’s face and her eyes caught something. Are you wearing cover-up?

The blemish. Padget pulled down the sunscreen and checked the underside mirror. She anxiously inspected the discoloration. It was getting larger, but she didn’t want mom making a federal case out of it. She snapped the sunscreen back into place.  

    It’s just some sort of nasty zit or something mom, thanks for noticing.

    Nonsense, Sondra said, almost defensively. You’ve always had perfect skin.

    Not today I don’t. It was time to get out and not a moment too soon. She leaned over and kissed her mom on the cheek. Bye, love you.

    Love you too. Have a good day. She meant it with no hint of irony.

    Yeah, right. With that Padget was out the door.

As she watched her daughter trudge off in the rain, lines of deep worry emerged on Sondra’s otherwise youthful features. Is it now, she asked herself. Is it happening at last, just as we feared?

Sondra Beaumont put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

CHAPTER TWO

The drizzle had turned into a miserable downpour, which made it easier for Padget to get through the school courtyard without anyone paying her undue attention. She noticed Daniel and his buddies cradling their skateboards and taking shelter under an overhang. Daniel had taken up smoking. It didn’t make him look cool. As she passed by, he caught her eye with a look that could almost constitute as regret. Too little and way, way too late, Padget thought. She kept right on walking.

In the halls, she made her way to her locker without incident. The graffitied libel of sophomore year was a thing of the past and she opened her locker to find it unmolested. Depeche Mode’s Dave Gahan greeted her on the inside of the locker door, darkly handsome and brooding as always. His picture prompted a loop of People are People in her head. People are people, so why should it be, that you and I should get along so awfully? The song should be declared the official theme of Padget Beaumont. And now it would be stuck in her head for the rest of the day. Oh well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

First period crept by at a snail’s pace and second wasn’t much faster. Then came the period she dreaded most – Algebra 2. She was lousy at math, but that wasn’t the real reason she hated the period so much. The real reason was Mr. Mather. He was a tall and imposing man with slick black hair and a face that seemed chiseled from stone. His eyes had a piercing, penetrating quality that seemed to be always accusing, always rooting out some offender to his sensibilities. He didn’t tolerate any nonsense from the students, which was a quality Padget begrudgingly admired, but he didn’t cut the good kids any slack either. They were all sinners in his eyes. His grading policy reflected his grim worldview, and Padget had studied her butt off just to maintain a B grade. If she wasn’t so determined to get into a decent college she would be flunking, without a doubt.

The class was drawing to a close when she heard the tap-tap-tapping of the crow on the window. Then the spell was broken and she was confronted with a tangle of numbers and letters. X + Y = Z over whatever. It made absolutely no sense to her.

    Do you have the answer or not?

It was silly, but she feared Mr. Mather. He was just a high school math teacher, a small man in the grand scheme of things, but she feared him all the same. His lineage traced back to Cotton Mather, the high magistrate who oversaw the Salem witch trials, a fact he was only too proud to relate. She had no difficulty picturing Mr. Mather burning witches at the stake, and as she prepared to admit that she didn’t know the answer, she could see him light a metaphorical fire at her feet. She stared straight into his gaze of judgment and tried again to reach into his hateful brain for the answer.

    23, she heard herself say, as if an afterthought. She had seen the number sitting in his mind on a smug bed of contempt. It had come to her in a vision, clear as day. These premonitory moments came to her on occasion; it was something she had experienced infrequently all her life. She didn’t put much stock in them, but still she was grateful, especially in bail-out, face saving moments such as this. X equals 23.

Mather’s jaw practically hit the floor. That is…correct, he said begrudgingly. The bell rang. Victory was hers.

The students rose from their seats and started for the door en masse. Pages 430 to 485 in the text for tomorrow, Mather assigned on their way out. Padget stood and gathered her books. She flashed Mather a cocky smile as she passed his desk. I beat you, you miserable jerk, she thought. She was so pleased with herself that she didn’t notice Lydia coming in the doorway until it was too late. The former best friends collided head-on into each other, and their combined books fell on to the floor in a humiliating pile. 

    Watch where you’re going, Lydia seethed. Back in the classroom, Mr. Mather glanced disapprovingly from his desk. Then he went back to grading papers, happy to let the high school drama play out without him.

    Lydia, Padget started, but then realized she had no follow-up. She and Lydia hadn’t spoken since last year, since the fateful event Padget had taken to calling The Daniel Incident. Any attempt Padget made to break the ice had been stonewalled by Lydia’s refusal to talk about it. It seemed some bridges could never be unburned. Here, Padget said, bending over to make desperate sense of the pile of books and papers.

    I got it, just go, Lydia grumbled. She’d pick up her own damn books, thank you. She knelt down to do just that.

Padget stood over her, letting Lydia play the martyr. Lyd, it’s been nearly six months. Don’t you think we could hash this out?

The attempt was neither appreciated nor reciprocated. I have to go to class, Lydia answered curtly. There was no breaching this chasm, not today and probably not any other day. Padget sighed, picked up her own books, and the two girls, once inseparable, went their separate ways.

The rotten seeds that would grow into the Daniel Incident were planted nine months ago, almost to the day. Padget had just turned sweet sixteen and with it came the passing of her awkward phase. Now that the dust had settled it was clear that she was attractive; she would modestly assess herself as cute. Her wide green eyes gave her a cat-like appearance and her button nose was crested with a not unpleasant swath of freckles. She wasn’t exactly slammin’ in the curves department, but she had a decent enough figure. And almost immediately the boys started to notice. It was a little scary at first, but eventually she started to enjoy the attention, especially if it was from the nice guys. Not that she would have known what to do with it. She was still pretty terrified by the thought of actual dating, but the attention was appreciated nonetheless.

Boys weren’t the only new development. Padget found herself courted by a clique of pretty and popular girls led by the prettiest and most popular of them all, Lydia Fairweather. Padget had never felt the need to be popular and never considered herself the kind of girl to hang out with the in crowd, but she was flattered, and it turned out that Lydia and her friends were actually pretty cool once you got to know them. Lydia could hold her own in a conversation, was legitimately funny and wasn’t obsessed with boys or what others thought of her. The rest of the micro-clique, Sapphire Wells and Vera Caulfield, were fine but suffered in the blinding light of Lydia’s glory. Lydia had a kind of magic, and she saw the same quality in Padget. Needless to say they became fast friends.

There had been sleep-over parties and trips to the galleria; typical girl stuff. But the real bonding had occurred when Lydia had invited Padget to go with her and her parents to Washington D.C. Lydia’s dad was a congressman and had a luxury hotel suite comped for a weekend. Lydia and Padget had their own room and were left pretty much unsupervised for most of the time. They took booze from the mini-bar, dressed up, and went out on the town. They ended up getting sick and caught by Lydia’s parents, but it was worth it. They had a blast, no real harm had been done, and they had bonded for life. Or so Padget thought.

Then came Daniel Carter. Like Padget, Daniel had been a shy and awkward pre-teen. But by the time sophomore year had rolled around, girls began to notice that he had evolved into a tall dark hottie with the bluest of blue eyes. Padget didn’t pay him much attention until he started wearing his hair in a skater style – short on the back and sides but long in the front. It was a look that appealed to her own rebellious streak, and when Daniel would get up in front of English class to read a report and would brush those black locks out of his face, Padget couldn’t help but feel the quickening pulse of a teenage crush.

Padget had no clue that Lydia also had a thing for Daniel. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; Lydia had mentioned that she thought he was cute a couple of times in passing. But Lydia had said that about half of the boys in the school, and she had more suitors than she knew what to do with. Sure they tended to be boring, good-looking jocks she would only date once, but there was no reason for Padget to think that Lydia was carrying a torch for Daniel.

The fateful, game-changing incident went down at one of Lydia’s parties; the last one Padget was ever to be invited to. Lydia’s parents were constantly traveling and they trusted her to govern herself as long as she checked in with them on regular intervals. They converted the basement into a pretty kick-ass rec room complete with a giant flat screen and a pool table. This made for good parties as they could drink and make as much noise as they wanted without alerting the neighbors. The night of the Daniel Incident was expected to be a real rager, and quickly grew into the party of the year. Padget had a weird feeling beforehand, a strange premonition that she shouldn’t attend, but Lydia would have been furious if she bowed out for no good reason. Padget put her apprehension aside and resolved to have herself a good time.

It was a pretty standard party at first, with the usual suspects of popular kids drinking and smoking and hanging out. After the D.C. experience Padget wasn’t too keen on drinking, but Lydia was in the mood to party and convinced Padget to shotgun a beer, much to the amusement of a crew of jocks. Padget was feeling woozy and was considering sneaking off home when Daniel and a couple of his skater friends arrived at the back door.

Padget and Daniel had exchanged a few words in English class, mostly over a shared appreciation of Catcher in the Rye and a hatred of the Twilight books, but that had been about it. Yet it was pretty clear to her right away that he was really happy to see her. He monopolized her attention, and if Padget had been a little more sober she might have picked up on Lydia shooting jealous daggers at her as she and Daniel got closer. When Daniel pulled Padget upstairs for her first-ever make-out session, Lydia was the furthest thing from her mind. 

It was sweet and awkward, and really not much happened. They were both inexperienced, and what Padget remembered most was that she and Daniel had a good time laughing in between tentative smooches. It went on for a little less than an hour, and Padget was just wondering what this was going to mean when Lydia burst into the room, tears of betrayal streaming down her perfect face.

She screamed at them to get off of her parents' bed. Thanks to the beer and the humiliation of being caught, Padget laughed uncontrollably. This really set Lydia off. She launched into a brutal character assassination, calling Padget a bitch and a whore and accusing her of never really being her friend. Daniel got off the bed and apologized, but Padget kept laughing until Lydia jumped on the bed and started smacking her. The gravity of the situation began to sink in.

    You knew I liked him, you knew it but you just couldn’t keep your hands off of him you stupid bitch! Lydia screamed. She screamed worse things as well, including the c-word and other colorful euphemisms. Daniel was so embarrassed that he slunk out of the room disappearing from the party altogether. At the time Padget was relieved, but upon later reflection it stung that he didn’t care enough to stick up for her. It was this very reason that Padget never mentioned the incident to Daniel and in fact didn’t speak to him much at all after that. Whatever transpired between them in that brief amount of time was gone the second Lydia came shrieking into the room.

Padget tried to calm Lydia down, to explain that she had no idea she had such feelings for Daniel, to apologize. But Lydia was having none of it. She drove Padget out of the party while what seemed like the entirety of Harrison High watched in amused hysterics. It wasn’t until Padget had gotten a few blocks from her house that the enormity hit her and she started to cry.

She was bawling her eyes out when she came drunkenly in the door, and even though mom could smell the beer on her breath she didn’t say anything about it, nor did she bring it to the attention of dad who was nose-deep in some research. She just let Padget cry it out on her shoulder. They talked for a while and mom assured her the whole thing would blow over. By the time Padget went to bed, her mother had her feeling like maybe her world hadn’t been irrevocably destroyed. Maybe tomorrow everything would be OK.

But it wasn’t OK. Lydia did not respond to her emails, to her texts, to her voice mail messages. Lydia was on total Padget blackout. It was hoped that by Monday things would have thawed a little, but the moment Padget got to school the worst was confirmed. She approached Lydia in the courtyard and received the royal brush-off. Sapphire and Vera had no time for her either. Adding insult to injury, the ostracization spread through the student body like a virus. By second period someone had written slut on her locker in Sharpie, and by lunch no one would share a table with her. The thing had gone totally nuclear.

Padget held out hope that things would eventually let up, but they didn’t. Lydia was popular. Really popular. She was pretty, had a sharp wit, and if you wanted to be