The Blue Moon

The topic was "Birth By Sheep"... I think I used it fairly well in this piece.

 Silvery white light cascaded down over rolling hills and into the meadow. On the hill closest to the woods there stood a herd of sheep, from which could be heard the distressed bleat from an ewe. Her bleating echoed through the still night air, creating disarray on the hills. Contractions racked her body as she tried to deliver something not quite animal to the world.

Its claws ripped through her stomach from the inside out. The ewe’s distress turned to mortification as the slimy fiend crawled out from her fresh wound. Blood pooled in the grass as her bleating faded into the night. Silhouetted in the moonlight, the sheep-born fiend dragged himself towards the woods.

His wings were stretched out across the ground, carrying his furry body over pine needles deeper into the trees. High-pitched screeches resonated through the wood, chasing away all forms of life that had once been sleeping peacefully. His flank heaved as the murmur of a river greeted his ears. He had found water to wash the slime and pine needles out of his fur and moonlight to fuel his energy.  He had been waiting for what seemed like years for this night to come. Finally, he was free from the confines of a sheep, and already he had killed.

His green eyes flashed as he approached the water, his scaly wings reached out and felt the temperature, shivering slightly. Moonlight filtered through the trees and fell upon his back as the grime and blood were slowly washed from his black fur. His blood ran hot in his veins, his heart beat almost audible. Energy was flowing through him as he grew. He grew from the size of a bat to almost as large as a wolf in a matter of hours. He screeched again, louder this time than any before, alerting the wilderness to his existence, alerting the town to a beast that had been set free in the woods.

* * * * * *

“What do you suppose that was?” A shaky voice whispered the thought in everyone’s head.

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t sound good.” The police chief’s voice chimed in, deep and ominous.

“It sounded like the cry of a bat, only louder.”

“That was no bat,” an elderly man from the shadowed corner of the tavern spoke up, “that was the cry of a Manachi.” Everyone looked at this man like he was crazy.

“A Manachi? A sheep born bat that collects energy by consuming the flesh of an animal?”

“Yes, but there’s more to it than that,” the old man stumbled out of the corner, and sat on one of the stools that stood at the bar. “A Manachi is born from a sheep, in the dead of night on a full moon. But not just any full moon, it has to be a blue moon, the second full moon of the month. Its energy is replenished by that moon for the night. Once that moon has gone down, if he hasn’t killed enough, he will slowly suffer from starvation until death.” The last word was emphasized.

“That’s bull.” The police chief interrupted the conversation. “What the hell kind of story is that? A Manachi..." He shook his head standing from the stool. “You folks stay here, I’ll go check out the hill, I’m sure that I’ll find all sheep alive and well. Not to mention that there may be a new lamb about now.” He left the tavern, feeling confident, but as soon as the cool night air hit his face and another cry broke the silence of the night, he began to wonder.

* * * * * *

The light from his flashlight traveled over the grass as he walked over the hills. He approached the last hill, smelling the mixed odors of dead flesh and blood. He covered his nose with his sleeve, trying to block the scent. He found the sheep all slaughtered on the hill. One had been torn open and guts had spilled down the side of the hill, the rest had been left as only bones, fat, and wool.

Bile grew in the back of his throat as he started to retreat to the hill behind this. His phone was flung open and he quickly dialed the number of the police station.

“Yeah, this is the chief. I’m going to need a patrol squad to come to the last hill near the woods as soon as possible.”

“Ok, sir. Are there any details?”

“No. Just tell them to expect the worst.” He hung up the phone and turned back to the scene. The elderly man from the tavern’s voice echoed through his head. “Its energy is replenished by that moon for the night. Once that moon has gone down, if he hasn’t killed enough, he will slowly suffer from starvation until death". How much was enough for this thing to survive? He glanced at the woods, dreading what could be watching his every move.

Shivers traveled up his spine as he heard that icy cry again. The other officers were approaching quickly, climbing over the hills. A black figure moved in the shadows of the trees. The chief saw it and flashed his light at it.

A furry black creature with scaly wings and fangs that reached down its chin stared back at him with green eyes. He lunged out from the darkness, knocking the officer to the ground, stifling the soft scream emitted from his throat. Thick blood rolled over the fiend’s tongue, strengthening it. He spread his wings and took off for the sky as the other officers ran to the sound of the chief’s scream. They were greeted with glassy eyes and a look of terror on his face. Blood covered his dark blue uniform; his flashlight lay in the grass, still producing light.

The fiend flew across the moon, crying out above everything else; breaking the peace and disturbing the town forever.

* * * * * *

The old man sat outside the tavern alone, finishing the story. “A Manachi can’t be killed. Once they’ve survived the first night, they become unstoppable killing machines.”

 

Author's Note

I wrote this for my english class, we had a theme, Birth By Sheep, and we had to incorporate that into our story which had to be under three pages long. I think I did ok on it, tell me what you think of it.

Reviews

[S.A Beach]

I agree with hitting the mark with the "birth by sheep" part. That portion of the story was original and compelling to read on. Once the humans were brought in, that's where the story started to de-rail in a sense. Not all of the time you need names for characters in short stories, but it gives them a bit more life, especially if they engage a bit more than just a background character only there for a moment does.

The language and sentence structure can use a bit of work as well as the rather plain dialogue or too "on the nose" dialogue. For example:

"It sounded like the cry of a bat, only louder." (This is too much).
"Sounded like a bat, only louder."
"Sounded like a bat."

"The cry of" seems to add too much to the line and isn't really needed.

If the old man is inside, how exactly does he know that the creature is related to the legend? Do all the people know that one of the sheep is pregnant?

The legend was too much, a bit of mystery could help extend it and make it more of an impact, or show the legend in a different way, not all at once. Just a thought.

Story has potential and could use a bit more suspense to it for it to be really effective. The creature is said to do things, but isn't built up as a major threat.

[Samuel Dickens]

Well, I certainly think you satified that "birth by sheep" requirement. It was reminiscent of "An American Werewolf in London" for some reason. (My favorite werewolf movie) You've done a fine job of it, Unkown Author.