I want to tell you a little story, something that happened to me a few years ago.
My partner and I were going to a Halloween party at a friend’s place outside of Paris; an old asylum that she had purchased for a song and spent the last several years renovating.
Dusk had fallen, casting long shadows across the narrow forest road, as we made our way to the villa. Suddenly, a dark shape darted out from the dusk-drawn woods and into the middle of the road, where it stopped–frozen in the glare of the headlights. Claudette jammed the brakes and the old Citroen slid to a stop only a few feet away from the…”
Prompt: What ran out of the woods on that dark Halloween night? What happened after the car stopped? Did the ‘creature’ run off? Did Sophie and Claudette get out of the car? Go ahead and put yourself in the story if you want. See if you can scare me!
Word List: Murder, bedchamber, rack, clock, wine, time
Word Count: 1,031. That’s right, barely over a thousand words, so make ‘em count!
I don’t have a good intro for this weeks tale. I’m not even sure if it’s horror or comedy. All I know is that I’m grateful that I’m not in the situation these two are!!
THE GOAT (617 words)
It was ridiculous when you thought about it. But here they were in their bedchamber. They had all the fixings to make the baby: the turkey baster, the sperm and the wine. Neither had wanted to get pregnant. Neither of them had ever wanted a child or the touch of a man. They were both odd in that respect. Even in the circles they ran with it was normal to have a kid or two and bounce back to sapphism.
But when that damn goat had jumped out of the road on the way to that party everything changed. It was lucky that Claudette had slammed on the brakes when she did. Or maybe it was unlucky. The two women would have preferred eating goat meat to what they were now embarking on.
They’d decided that Sophie would be the one to carry the child. She was more motherly. She had never smoked and didn’t mind giving up wine and spirits for nine months. Plus, she had lost the coin toss.
It was strange enough to have a goat jump out in front of their car on that dark and windy road. At first they had thought it was a practical joke. Maurice was always playing Halloween pranks on people. He even went so far as to buy an old asylum to host his annual Halloween party in. Neither would have put it past him to develop and elaborate prank like what they were involved in now.
But it wasn’t a prank. The goat had introduced himself as Billy and demanded their firstborn. When they told him they were lesbians and without children, he stated that he didn’t care. He still wanted their firstborn and God help them if he wasn’t given it.
They wouldn’t have paid any attention to a man who’d demanded a child. People were always saying strange things, especially on Halloween. They wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at some drunk in a devil costume telling them they better get pregnant so he could have what was coming to him.
But when a goat says something like that…
Goats usually couldn’t even talk. And if the goat could talk, what else could he do?
That was what scared them the most. There were no strings, no ventriloquists and no jokes. It was a goat in the middle of the road telling them he wanted their firstborn. He didn’t say why he wanted it or what he would do when he received it. They didn’t know how they were supposed to deliver the child to him. And they weren’t sure what he would do if he didn’t receive it, but murder didn’t seem to be out of the question. And who knew what other madcap abilities the strange mammal had.
At first they had even laughed it off. Billy had walked back into the woods after making his demand and they’d continued on to the party. They’d shared the story with several other guests but no one found it to be very amusing. They both nearly forgot about it until they’d woken up in the middle of the night to bah-ing. Then they knew that he was real. That he was out there. And that he would get what he’d demanded.
So here they were trying again to get pregnant. Claudette looked down at Sophie’s glorious rack and wished that they could just make love instead of performing this twisted chore for an insane Billy. But time was running out – he’d only given them two years to produce a child and the clock had already spun around for six months.
And somewhere in the woods off a dirt road he was waiting for them.