Ren Mackenzie's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Ren Mackenzie pushed open her workroom door and froze. A purple ghost-faced jersey lay shredded on the floor, sharp rips running through the fabric like claw marks. A small Blenheim cavapoo sat in the middle of the mess, tail wagging. The bottom of her shop door had a puppy-sized hole chewed clean through it. Ren wanted to be angry. Her one big goal — getting her horror jerseys onto a certain scream-queen actress — already felt heavy enough without this. "Josie," Ren sighed, recognizing her neighbor's puppy. Josie trotted over and dropped a scrap at her feet. The torn cloth hung in long, jagged strips. Ren picked it up to throw away. Then she stopped. The rips looked exactly like a slasher's claw slash across fresh fabric. She sat down hard on the floor next to Josie. The ruined jersey wasn't ruined. It was a new line. Ripped. Clawed. Survived. Each tear told a story a slasher film would love. Ren laughed and scratched Josie behind the ears. "You little monster. You just designed for me." She looked at the chewed door and grinned. A new door was coming — and it would be hers. Painted bloody. Carved with claw marks. A horror gate for her workshop, a love letter to the actress whose films taught her what good looks like. Customers would see it and know exactly who they were dealing with. Ren gathered the scraps into a careful pile beside her bright rainbow press. Josie curled against her knee. For the first time in a month, the fear in her chest felt smaller than the idea in her hands. She would finish the ripped line. Then she would finally send the email.