Picnic Table of Death

Where all the little forest animals go when they lost all their food in the winter, where the hunters of forest go when they lose the hunt they meet Death, but he prefers to be called Ryan.

The chipmunk shook, making his chubby cheeks vibrate. Only seconds ago he was viciously attacked by a fisher, having his nose bitten then being turned over, and stomach ripped open. He put his paws to his nose, feeling the soft body part stuck firmly to his face, next, he turned himself over to inspect his soft tummy, and he sighed with relief when the chipmunk saw no wounds surrounding his body. Thank nuts! It was just a dream! he thought to himself, but was inturrupted by a subtle cough from a dark robed figure. The chipmunk felt his heart rate begin to speed up, going ba-dum ba-dum like the beating of a drum, not that the poor animal knew what a drum was. He lifted his little head, and stared at the man. The chipmunk knew about mankind, they cut his sister's tree, and his mother's forest. He never saw the two again. The little chipmunk gulped audibly, too scared to be curious. 

  The robed figure turned to the traumatized animal, opened its mouth, and said   "Now let's see, Charlie, right? Yes, Charlie the chipmunk. You died of a fisher attack not too long ago. You're lucky it isn't winter season, the line up would have been longer."

  The chipmunk was startled by the voice, it was a cheery sort, like some of the friendly campers that visited the forest, or the people that cleaned up the litter covered floor. The man sighed, and removed his hood, exposing his shining bald head. (?) The chipmunk froze for a moment, blinded by how the sun reflected of the man's smooth scalp. The hood also hid his hemph necklace, and his slightly tan skin. To the chipmunk, he looked like an every day park ranger. Now that the chipmunk understood the words that came out of the man's mouth, he turned behind him and noticed a small line up of forest creature's, bluejays, squirrels, fellow chipmunks, and a wolf and fisher, who seemed to be at eachothers' heels, barking and snapping their jaws. The chipmunk shrank himself, and the man sighed.

 "I guess you want to know where you are." He said lamely, picking at his nails.

  The chipmunk squeaked in agreement, the man sighed again and said "Well, this here-" he pointed to a picnic table, and contiued "is the picnic table of death. This is where all you little critters go when, well, when you die. Hence the name, I made it myself." He smiled proudly, and went on "I'm the MOD, Messenger Of Death assigned to this area. Most call me Grim, but I prefer to be called Ryan. Now this is how it's going to work, you will sit on this table and we see where you get sent of too. All animals have to be reborn, crummy job, but someone has to do it."

 The animal squeaked again, but in defiance, how could he be dead? He was all well and lively, apart from his awful dream about the fisher. He shook his head, which made is plump cheeks jiggle along with him. Grim, Ryan, whatever his name may be tried to run his hand through his hair, but at the last minute recalled he had none left. He passed of the motion, pretending he meant to scratch his neck. A few animals joined the chipmunk in his snickering. Ryan bent down, and flicked the creature right on its forehead.

"No laughing, or else I'll make sure in your next life you turn into an acorn tree." His words were cruel, but his voice held it's friendly nature. Ryan rose up again and patted the bench on the picnic table motioning for Charlie to sit down. The chipmunk squeaked again, and scurried onto the seat.

   Ryan calmly said "Now listen you're a good man, and I know it's hard to believe but that fisher did you in."

  Charlie's face became sadder, and he gave a depressed squeak.

  "How about we make you a bluejay? Or a rabbit?"

  Charlie looked up hopefully, and wobbled his head. Maybe there was hope for him. The rabbit families did seem friendly, and he had always wanted bigger ears.

 Ryan nodded happily and said "See? Dying isn't that bad, now come on. Go into that little rabbit hole and your new life awaits you." He pointed to the moss covered rabbit hole, and the chipmunk reluctantly stepped down from the table, and scampered into the gateway to his new life. Once he entered into the darkness, a luminescent yellow light flash, and Charlie the chipmunk had left the Picnic Table of Death.

     Ryan sighed dramatically and called out "Next!"

Author's Note

I always appriciate critism, be as brutal as you want x)