Return of Fire

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Written by
1 year ago
Topics: Journey, Short Story, Ideas, Crime, Time, ...

[WP] Much like dinosaurs, mythical dragons have all gone extinct. What people don't know is that, like dinosaurs, dragons also have descendants. One day on your farm, you encounter a talking, ember-spitting chicken, bent on "restoring their clan."

*****

I had been noticing some odd things around the farm recently. In the corner of the barn, I started to see a pile of junk. Bits of broken tools, foil, beads, and things like that. Just a pile of glittering crap I figured I would clean up before long. I hadn’t had the time to spare though since my damn cats ran away. You have to be real careful with traps and poison when you got livestock so I had to take care of the rat problem myself with my old .22. That right there is about a full-time job. Damn cats. One night I was down near the silo shooting and damned if I didn’t see one of my hogs with a mouth full of the ball bearings I had in the shed walking right into the damn barn where that junk pile was.

I had never heard of a hog stockpiling trash like that before, but these critters are more clever than you would think. I’ve seen them do all kinds of things so it didn’t surprise me too badly. I can’t guess why animals do what they do sometimes, and this was more of an inconvenience than anything. It could be a problem, so I had to change all my chores to clean it out in the morning.

I suppose the whole situation had me pretty pissed off. Usually, I try to be even-keeled but things on a farm have a way of getting out of hand if you don’t double down and fix things before they get worse. I was still pretty sore about having to work double though. I reckon I was in a pretty bad mood when I marched up to that barn, and I don’t believe it helped my situation much. I suited up for trash clean-up, grabbed my trash can, and headed up to the barn.

It was the damnedest thing I saw when I came into that barn that morning. One of my chickens was there. Before I could figure out how in the hell the damn thing got out of the pen, it started talking. I am of sound mind and solid constitution but damned if my chicken didn’t start talking when it saw me. It said, “Insolent human. You dare enter my lair?” in a little squawking clucking kind of voice.

I had to rub my eyes. I hadn’t been drinking and I hadn’t been sniffing glue so I guess I figured I was still dreaming. I was feeling haughty, so I said “You put your lair in my barn, kid. Not sure you can afford a room in here if that junk is all you got.” I didn’t know then that I would regret those words.

At the time I didn’t know then where that fire came from, but the moment after I had uttered those words my pant leg was on fire. I screamed “shit!” and set about trying to put myself out. I was dancing around, swatting it with my hands, and ended up rolling on the ground (If you were thinking why I didn’t roll first I guess you don’t spend much time in barns). All this is to say I was distracted. I’m not sure how long it took me to get it out, but when I looked up every single surface of my barn was covered in rats. All over the partitions, the walls, the loft, everything. I froze right there.

The chicken clucked out in that little voice, “This is my barn, and this is my farm. You tried to hide my true nature from me. You tried to hide my heritage but I learned, human. I learned. Your puny, mundane mind can’t begin to imagine what I learned. I’ll explain the part that interests you, and I believe that you of all people should be able to understand. Humans exist to serve my kind. You are our beasts of burden and you are part of our supply of meat. All those that wish to live must pay tribute to me or perish in flame.”

That fire was sure real enough so I no longer suspected I was dreaming. It was clear that I was in a bind. From the look of things, I figure my cats didn’t run away either. The little critter had friends, and if you ever suffered a rat bite you may imagine the amount of trouble I was in. All that indignity I had earlier was gone, and I was rightly terrified. I squeaked out in a voice no more forceful than my chickens, “I imagine so, I apologize for my insolence, your majesty.” I half cringed at that last part but can you blame me? How could I have been prepared for something like this?

The rats cleared the way to the entrance like it was Moses parting the red sea. The little chicken demanded, “My tribute, human. Present to me my tribute and you will live to see another day.”

“Y-yes your highness.” I shuffled out of there real quick, I can tell you that. All my livestock was lined up out there staring at me too. By some blessing from somewhere, I had figured when I started out that I was hauling the junk directly to the yard just outside of town, so I had my truck keys on me. I made it like I was headed to the house to find an offering of some sort, but I suddenly doubled back and dashed over to my pickup. The sound that I heard was bone-chilling. Pigs, goats, cows, chickens, and about a thousand rats let out such a wail when I did that and started coming after me. I about leaped through my damn driver's window and pressed that accelerator right to the floor. I had to do a little fancy driving to get out of there as quickly as I did, but by the lord I made it.

I’m still reeling from experience, I can tell you that. As I sit here in this little motel writing all this out, I thought that some kind of plan would occur to me but it sure hasn’t. I am well over my head.

*****

THE END.

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Avatar for Ozzyy
Written by
1 year ago
Topics: Journey, Short Story, Ideas, Crime, Time, ...

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