Micro Macabre - They Come In Threes
Feeding The Crows
The crows do not go hungry. There is always a feast that awaits them. Jack makes sure of that.
As a child he would watch the crows gather on the fence posts outside his window, each black silhouette dancing in the fading light of the falling sun. They would kaw and flutter, always coming back to see him, like an old friend.
Jack always appreciated the company they had to offer. He would leave crumbs along the fence, an offering to show his gratitude.
But the crumbs were so little, and Jack wanted to offer more.
It had been years since they had forged their bond, and Jack sat in the house that he now owned, and watched the same crows come and go outside the window. It was time to feed them once again.
Jack dragged the corpse from the back of his van. The stench of rotting flesh filled the night air, but there was no one for miles. No one but Jack and his crows.
Jack dropped the body unceremoniously on the ground. The body was that of a man, his throat slit. Intestines hung out of another wound Jack had made before the man had stopped struggling.
The crows pecked at the eyes first, as was usual, and Jack smiled as the crows enjoyed their dinner.
Take Their Fangs
Jethro hauled the body into his shed and slammed it onto the gurney. He worked quickly to tighten all the straps around all the limbs and head. He was out of breath. The restrained body opened up a bruised eye, the yellow retina peered about the room before projecting malice towards Jethro.
Jethro laughed.
"You have made a mistake. More will come." Said the restrained man.
"Good! Have the whole roost come!" Jethro said. He then moved in close on the man, each labored breath a plume of whiskey and cigarettes.
"You and yours took my wife. My daughter. It's my turn to take." Jethro nodded as he spoke and fumbled with some tools off to the side of the gurney.
"What do you have there? A wooden stake? Garlic? A silver cross? All fables. You are doomed." The man said. Jethro then retrieved a bloodstained pair of pliers. The restrained man's demeanor faltered, and Jethro placed his hands in the man's eyes, pushing his palms upward until pain caused the man to open his mouth. Jethro put the pliers on the vampire's fangs and pulled with all his might until the tooth was extracted. A large vein ran from it like a root, and blood erupted from the vampire's mouth.
"I'm gonna let you go, knowing you gonna die a slow death. Tell the others I'll take their fangs, too. Now, we got one down. Three to go." Jethro reached back into the bloodied maw as the vampire screamed.
Within The Maw
The cave seemed to go on forever, snaking around within the mountain. Eric's headlamp shone upon rows of stalagmites and stalactites as he passed, like ancient fangs from a primordial maw. It should have struck Eric with awe, but all he felt was fear and pain. A giant humanoid beast had dragged him for miles, its razor claws digging deep into his tattered limbs. The monstrous silhouette stopped and roared something grotesque. His body broken, Eric's head turned, his lamp illuminating an enormous pile of skulls. A single tear fell as claws raked his face and the cave went dark.
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