Gretchen's top was now clothed only by a black and white corset, designed to resemble a rib cage. A pair of skeletal hands formed the cups that held Gretchen's sagging breasts. She wore a pair of lace up arm warmers that ran from her wrist to elbow, fringed in silk. On her legs were a pair of extremely tight pants in white and black pinstripe. Her feet had on a pair of 4" heels covered in skull shaped studs, and around her waist was a belt with a buckle fashioned like a pentagram.
Gretchen gawked at her outfit for a few moments, but soon lost interest in her outfit. Why am I staring at my outfit? I put it on this morning, what's the big deal? she wondered, though that didn't sound right to her.
On instinct, she walked back into her house. Her old phone was gone, replaced by a black and purple cell. Gretchen failed to register this, instead picking the cell back up and searching through her recent calls. She redialed the last call received, and waited for an answer. As the dial tone sounded, Gretchen found a strange feeling come over her, a deathly and morbid calm...
