The Unholy Trinity: Unnatural Creatures – Aberrant Behavior

Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.

The Walls Talk

Papa declared my sweet sister May spoke with demons. So they arrived, men in suits with empty eyes who wrapped May in a white linen shroud.

Edward screamed and kicked Papa, “Stupid! They live in the walls!”

Papa shook him off, as if he were naught but a tiresome terrier. We slept head to toe in our beds in the nursery. The walls whispered, we glimpsed scurryings, green  eyes glimmering. In the dust they scrawled, ‘Feed us’.

We are obedient children. We labour as one. All six of us. Papa’s brood.

Tied, gagged. Limbless like May. He is our sacrifice.

Soul Stealer

They found the carcass on the beach. Bloated and obscene, food for scavengers.

“Is it a dinosaur?” asked Izzy.

Her brother laughed, took a selfie with the rotting corpse.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Izzy told him. “It has a soul. I can see it. Its clinging to your back.”

Liam smacked her on the head.

In bed that night he tossed, sleepless, his back ached. The next day he was hunchbacked, crippled.

X-Rays revealed nothing.

Out of the corpse’s stomach minute critters swarmed, seeking their host and its anima.

Izzy opened the front door for them. “He’s waiting.”

A Murder of Crows

“Let’s have crow pie for tea,” jeers Maxie pointing at the flurry of black rags decorating his dad’s field.

His gang titter at his wit. Maxie picks up his catapult, takes aim at the largest of the birds. His shot is true. King Crow slumps to the mud.

“One for sorrow . . .” squawks a voice behind them.

Turning as one, the lads spot a squadron of corvids lining up. Beaks pointing frontwards.

Maxie chucks a half brick, misses, stumbles, falls.

The air fills with the sounds of wings beating, next screaming.

Claws rip off scalps, beaks peck eyes.