10-04-2011, 12:03 AM
Well... that's not what was supposed to happen...
Erzulie stared wide-eyed at the mound of feathers that lay lifeless before her, cringing with guilt. The metallic scent of blood began to seep into the air as the crimson liquid trickled from the small holes in the animal's neck. Erzulie didn't understand what went wrong; she'd played with Robert like that a hundred times and he never went to sleep and leaked red water. She sniffed, the smell making her muzzle wrinkle even as she realized it was vaguely appetizing. The odor quickly strengthened as the fluid soaked into the hay and she realized that soon it would be noticeable well outside of the stable.
The little creamy ears that were laid back in worry perked up quickly as it dawned on her that she had probably just done something she wasn't supposed to. Her head jerked side to side, looking around the stable to see if she'd been discovered. Good, no one was there. She turned back to the poultry and poked at it with her muzzle, whimpering and hoping it would wake up. Instead, it just rolled, it's head flopping at the end of its limp neck.
“Wake up little guy,” she whispered softly, licking at the wound on its neck. Another whine escaped the girl when the animal didn't move despite how much she cleaned the wounds. “Somebody's gunna find you an' then I'mma be in trouble. Please? Pleeeease?” She pleaded vehemently, nudging it again.
It was no use, the hen wouldn't wake back up. It was asleep forever. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and her haunches sat upon the ground as she dropped her head and started to cry. Too young to understand the meaning of what she had done, she didn't mourn the death of the animal but knew enough to feel remorse for what had happened. She wished she could undo it – even if it was just to get herself out of trouble. Her chest heaved in its first sob, and a tear rolled down her muzzle and dropped to the ground.
“Please?” She asked again huskily, tearful eyes opening and looking at the smeary image of the bird. She peered around helplessly, pleadingly, as though she was searching for something in particular. “Help me,” she asked the atmosphere. “I didn't mean to do it. Make it get better.” She appealed as though there was someone else there with her, but the stable was still empty of all except for the farm animals. “I'll draw you another picture. Please,” but no answer came.
She dipped her head again, another tear rolling down her nose and falling into the dust near the chicken. She moved a paw, drawing a line in the sand, and then crossing it with another. She added a dot here, a dot there, sniffled...
...and the bird twitched.
Erzulie froze, eyes bugging. Did she just imagine it or had the dead animal really moved? Quickly she continued the drawing, though now her eyes were trained on the chicken, and a moment later a wing flapped and fell still, even as its head still lay there at an impossible angle.
The puppy began to laugh, her tearful eyes now drawn with a smile. He was helping – he was helping her! She was drawing the shapes furiously now, knowing that any minute he would bring the animal back to life and everything would be okay. And he did! Just as the drawing was complete the body lurched and the bird began flapping, twisting and writhing as though it were trying to fly and run all at the same time. Erzulie laughed with delight... it was back! It was okay! Even it if was a little... a little... freakish...
Although she'd resurrected the bird there was something terribly wrong with it now. It jerked and twitched with no purpose to its actions – even the other hens with their nervous movements didn't twitch like that. Erzulie's mirthful gaze mutated into a look of horror as the bird kept flopping, and then it was on its feet and running straight for her.
“AAAAHHHHHHH!!!” She screamed at full pitch as she turned and ran, tucking tail and bolting toward the stable door. She just made a freaking zombie chicken, and it was going to get her!
700+
Erzulie stared wide-eyed at the mound of feathers that lay lifeless before her, cringing with guilt. The metallic scent of blood began to seep into the air as the crimson liquid trickled from the small holes in the animal's neck. Erzulie didn't understand what went wrong; she'd played with Robert like that a hundred times and he never went to sleep and leaked red water. She sniffed, the smell making her muzzle wrinkle even as she realized it was vaguely appetizing. The odor quickly strengthened as the fluid soaked into the hay and she realized that soon it would be noticeable well outside of the stable.
The little creamy ears that were laid back in worry perked up quickly as it dawned on her that she had probably just done something she wasn't supposed to. Her head jerked side to side, looking around the stable to see if she'd been discovered. Good, no one was there. She turned back to the poultry and poked at it with her muzzle, whimpering and hoping it would wake up. Instead, it just rolled, it's head flopping at the end of its limp neck.
“Wake up little guy,” she whispered softly, licking at the wound on its neck. Another whine escaped the girl when the animal didn't move despite how much she cleaned the wounds. “Somebody's gunna find you an' then I'mma be in trouble. Please? Pleeeease?” She pleaded vehemently, nudging it again.
It was no use, the hen wouldn't wake back up. It was asleep forever. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and her haunches sat upon the ground as she dropped her head and started to cry. Too young to understand the meaning of what she had done, she didn't mourn the death of the animal but knew enough to feel remorse for what had happened. She wished she could undo it – even if it was just to get herself out of trouble. Her chest heaved in its first sob, and a tear rolled down her muzzle and dropped to the ground.
“Please?” She asked again huskily, tearful eyes opening and looking at the smeary image of the bird. She peered around helplessly, pleadingly, as though she was searching for something in particular. “Help me,” she asked the atmosphere. “I didn't mean to do it. Make it get better.” She appealed as though there was someone else there with her, but the stable was still empty of all except for the farm animals. “I'll draw you another picture. Please,” but no answer came.
She dipped her head again, another tear rolling down her nose and falling into the dust near the chicken. She moved a paw, drawing a line in the sand, and then crossing it with another. She added a dot here, a dot there, sniffled...
...and the bird twitched.
Erzulie froze, eyes bugging. Did she just imagine it or had the dead animal really moved? Quickly she continued the drawing, though now her eyes were trained on the chicken, and a moment later a wing flapped and fell still, even as its head still lay there at an impossible angle.
The puppy began to laugh, her tearful eyes now drawn with a smile. He was helping – he was helping her! She was drawing the shapes furiously now, knowing that any minute he would bring the animal back to life and everything would be okay. And he did! Just as the drawing was complete the body lurched and the bird began flapping, twisting and writhing as though it were trying to fly and run all at the same time. Erzulie laughed with delight... it was back! It was okay! Even it if was a little... a little... freakish...
Although she'd resurrected the bird there was something terribly wrong with it now. It jerked and twitched with no purpose to its actions – even the other hens with their nervous movements didn't twitch like that. Erzulie's mirthful gaze mutated into a look of horror as the bird kept flopping, and then it was on its feet and running straight for her.
“AAAAHHHHHHH!!!” She screamed at full pitch as she turned and ran, tucking tail and bolting toward the stable door. She just made a freaking zombie chicken, and it was going to get her!
700+