Meghan: Roosters

“Goddess accept the sacrifice that I offer.”
Moonlight gleamed on the sacrificial cleaver as it descended on the hapless rooster’s neck. There was surprisingly little blood as the body jerked in its death throes. The woman in the graveyard pressed it into the dirt, trying to direct what blood there was onto the correct grave, mixing growls of frustration with Latin. As the last phrase left her lips a hand broke free from its cover of dirt. A long dead corpse dug its way free from the ground to stand gaping in front of the woman who had summoned it.
“Excellent.” She breathed, scrubbing her bloody hands on her shirt as she walked around the undead. It was an old woman, still wearing the flowery dress she had been buried in, now ripped and torn from her journey. Her white wispy hair was caked with dirt and fell out in patches. Her blue eyes were milky and vacant, focused vaguely on the summoner. The summoner hopped up and down a few times with excitement before she could contain herself, looking around rapidly to see if anyone had seen. But the graveyard was empty in the moonlight.
“All right,” The summoner murmured striding over to a pen where one more rooster eyed her warily, “Let’s try another one.”

I stirred oatmeal as it cooked on the stove, the repetitive motions making me sleepy. Jasmine was curled up at the kitchen table, her head resting on folded arms. I set out bowls and poured oatmeal into them, adding a handful of strawberries, then tapped Jasmine on the head. She started awake and blinked at her oatmeal. I almost expected her to set her face in it like a squishy warm pillow. Thankfully this did not happen. Looking more awake as she ate, she started talking about a test we had that week.
“You have some strawberry on your cheek.”
“What? Where?” She patted her face.
“There.” I playfully kissed and licked her cheek.
“Aah gross, stop.” She pushed me off, rubbing at her face.
I frowned, “It’s blood. Why is there blood?”
Her face froze, “Uh…”
And then I realized what had been different that morning. What I hadn’t heard.
I raced to the backyard.
I made it to the door before Jasmine slammed into me, taking me to the floor.
“Calm down, calm down.” She said soothingly, which wasn’t very soothing as she was pinning my wrists and torso.
“Calm down!?” I hissed, rolling her across the floor, “What did you do to them?”
“The neighbors were complaining, you know we couldn’t keep them.”
“But…” I curled against her chest, suddenly wanting to be comforted more than wrestled to the ground, “I feel like I should have done it.”
She tucked her chin over my head, “You couldn’t even kill baby rats for your snake.”
I punched her lightly in the chest, “Neither could you.”
“Well I had a greater cause.”
I snorted, “And what was that?”
“I’m going to start the zombie apocalypse.”




-M