6th of Spring 516 AV
High Spirts
WIKUS
Thanks to Kiva for this amazing template.
High Spirts
Wikus’ precious had escaped. Jumped right off his arm and ran frenetically down the street as if wishing to escape him for some reason, clucking and waving its wings as it slithered between the forests of legs that were roaming the street. How dared she do this to him? Wikus’ was angry, of course, for he had bought that precious little hen for two entire copper coins, and thus it belonged to him to do whatever he wished with her. Yes, perhaps he was taking it a bit too far this last day. Thinking that he had hugged her through the entire night, doing it over and over again… Perhaps the hen was finally making a run from it, trying to escape Wikus’ annoying finger that petted her neck day and night. He didn’t quite care for her, but there was an obvious attraction between the two. Any man with an eye could see the magic and the sexual tension between the two. Wikus’ curse was something he had accepted just the past morning, his sexual attraction to animals being as horrible as it sounds. He couldn’t help himself for there was no choice for him. It he didn’t manifest his love for that damn hen then he would begin feeling twitches, discomfort, loss of sleep, loss of appetite…
It was very weird, at first. The hen, his precious, pecked at his face every time he laid a kiss on its soft plumage to the point that she had made him bleed. By shaking her violently, he had managed to fix her behavior and she had allowed his smooches on her to go unanswered. She had been good, perhaps too good, as she was surely plotting her escape from him. In that brief moment of distraction, she had jumped and made a run for it to some other destiny or fate that didn’t involve Wikus’ lips. Making his way through the streets by harshly shoving any of the inhabitants that stood in his way, most of them were wise enough to realize he wasn’t stopping until that chicken was captured. They all suffered from their own manias, all of them being far madder than they believed he was. That didn’t matter. All he wanted was the damn hen in its little knitted sweater, courtesy of another citizen’s own addiction. Nobody in this city was normal, not the last season that had left him leaking ink, and certainly not this one in which he felt sexually aroused by a hen. Wikus was certain he’d think twice before ever stepping a foot in this crazy city.
She saw her as she attempted to fly, slipping through a door that shut itself afterwards. Now she was trapped! Wikus rushed to the door and quickly entered the unknown shop. Once inside, he shut the door behind him to trap the hen and not allow it to escape. Gloom befell the shop, the inside being perhaps older than Wikus himself which was strange given the polished surfaces found in every other shop in this city. He advanced slowly, as silently as his bare feet allowed him. Shirt open, he’d bend forward to reduce his height as much as possible and redistribute the weight of his feet to avoid the wood below his feet to creak. He failed, as every step no matter how fast or slow brought a loud creak. Voices came from within the establishment, yet Wikus saw none. Scouting the floors for the small chicken, his senses sharpened as much as they could. Slowing down until paralyzed in place, he waited for the hen to make a mistake. Tick, tick, tick… He heard it then, those clicks of the hen’s legs moving on the wooden floor. She wanted to hide, but her intent was enough to reveal her. Following the sound, he turned to find some sort of storeroom in which many shelves lied. Wikus began creeping between them, his eyes moving through the contents to see what was being sold there. Flour, some sort of woodcarver tools, vials of blood, a shiny white stuff stuffed into a vial…
Nothing made much sense, yet he ignored it for a moment. The voices still echoed around, yet Wikus saw nobody. Furthermore, he didn’t see his hen which was already pretty annoying for him. He crept forward, running through the weird assortment of supplies until he reached a somewhat weird section. Diverse animal parts were scattered all over the shelves, be it jewels made of bone, collars, weird pelts… This was truly a weird place. “There she is.” Said a voice directly behind him, Wikus startling himself so harshly that he almost knocked one of the shelves, the bones scattered on it clicking against the wood. Nothing fell, thankfully. Nothing was behind him either, no matter how clear he heard the voice. Blinking, he scouted around yet once again saw nothing but the shop itself. “Right there.” Another voice, this once above him. Looking up to meet the speaker, there was nothing but an old assortment of beams. The distant voices had stopped, and the only sound was Wikus’ cartilages cracking as he glared all around. “I will help you now.” Said the voice from somewhere, Wikus’ beating heart not letting him distinguish the direction.
The following moments were silent and tense. There was nothing to be heard, nothing new to be seen. Wikus was really worried, as if he had entered another world the moment he crossed the business’ door. Leaving his basket of flowers on one of the shelves, he was ready to pull his whip out, yet finally the tension broke. His hen came at him, charging with a loud guttural scream more common in a rooster than a hen, wings flapping and body dangling awkwardly due to the pressure of the sweater that trapped the hen within. Despite its size, the hen was pretty ferocious, almost as much as she was… cute and cuddly. Wikus wanted her by his side again, true, yet her current charge through the tight hallway made by the shelves discouraged him. He was still in place as she reached him, her beak coming forward and biting with a harshness unknown to Wikus no matter her attempts the previous day. In fact, she bit so hard he felt the blood pouring from his spleen after the third bite. Even if she wore her sweater, that wasn’t his hen. Grunting as he tried to dissuade her by shaking his legs, eventually his patience waned and his foot came from above to stop directly on the hen’s body. The force was enough to kill her. Silence again.
“Hah. You killed her…” Said the voice from behind, Wikus turning around to see a distorted figure of a man slowly floating away. He had seen a ghost before, but never from so close. That lost soul had tricked him to kill his precious. Looking down at his precious’ corpse, he picked her up by her legs. Definitely dead. Sighing, he glanced back the way the Ghost left, bitterly thinking that now he had to choose a new chicken to be his precious. He had four remaining.
It was very weird, at first. The hen, his precious, pecked at his face every time he laid a kiss on its soft plumage to the point that she had made him bleed. By shaking her violently, he had managed to fix her behavior and she had allowed his smooches on her to go unanswered. She had been good, perhaps too good, as she was surely plotting her escape from him. In that brief moment of distraction, she had jumped and made a run for it to some other destiny or fate that didn’t involve Wikus’ lips. Making his way through the streets by harshly shoving any of the inhabitants that stood in his way, most of them were wise enough to realize he wasn’t stopping until that chicken was captured. They all suffered from their own manias, all of them being far madder than they believed he was. That didn’t matter. All he wanted was the damn hen in its little knitted sweater, courtesy of another citizen’s own addiction. Nobody in this city was normal, not the last season that had left him leaking ink, and certainly not this one in which he felt sexually aroused by a hen. Wikus was certain he’d think twice before ever stepping a foot in this crazy city.
She saw her as she attempted to fly, slipping through a door that shut itself afterwards. Now she was trapped! Wikus rushed to the door and quickly entered the unknown shop. Once inside, he shut the door behind him to trap the hen and not allow it to escape. Gloom befell the shop, the inside being perhaps older than Wikus himself which was strange given the polished surfaces found in every other shop in this city. He advanced slowly, as silently as his bare feet allowed him. Shirt open, he’d bend forward to reduce his height as much as possible and redistribute the weight of his feet to avoid the wood below his feet to creak. He failed, as every step no matter how fast or slow brought a loud creak. Voices came from within the establishment, yet Wikus saw none. Scouting the floors for the small chicken, his senses sharpened as much as they could. Slowing down until paralyzed in place, he waited for the hen to make a mistake. Tick, tick, tick… He heard it then, those clicks of the hen’s legs moving on the wooden floor. She wanted to hide, but her intent was enough to reveal her. Following the sound, he turned to find some sort of storeroom in which many shelves lied. Wikus began creeping between them, his eyes moving through the contents to see what was being sold there. Flour, some sort of woodcarver tools, vials of blood, a shiny white stuff stuffed into a vial…
Nothing made much sense, yet he ignored it for a moment. The voices still echoed around, yet Wikus saw nobody. Furthermore, he didn’t see his hen which was already pretty annoying for him. He crept forward, running through the weird assortment of supplies until he reached a somewhat weird section. Diverse animal parts were scattered all over the shelves, be it jewels made of bone, collars, weird pelts… This was truly a weird place. “There she is.” Said a voice directly behind him, Wikus startling himself so harshly that he almost knocked one of the shelves, the bones scattered on it clicking against the wood. Nothing fell, thankfully. Nothing was behind him either, no matter how clear he heard the voice. Blinking, he scouted around yet once again saw nothing but the shop itself. “Right there.” Another voice, this once above him. Looking up to meet the speaker, there was nothing but an old assortment of beams. The distant voices had stopped, and the only sound was Wikus’ cartilages cracking as he glared all around. “I will help you now.” Said the voice from somewhere, Wikus’ beating heart not letting him distinguish the direction.
The following moments were silent and tense. There was nothing to be heard, nothing new to be seen. Wikus was really worried, as if he had entered another world the moment he crossed the business’ door. Leaving his basket of flowers on one of the shelves, he was ready to pull his whip out, yet finally the tension broke. His hen came at him, charging with a loud guttural scream more common in a rooster than a hen, wings flapping and body dangling awkwardly due to the pressure of the sweater that trapped the hen within. Despite its size, the hen was pretty ferocious, almost as much as she was… cute and cuddly. Wikus wanted her by his side again, true, yet her current charge through the tight hallway made by the shelves discouraged him. He was still in place as she reached him, her beak coming forward and biting with a harshness unknown to Wikus no matter her attempts the previous day. In fact, she bit so hard he felt the blood pouring from his spleen after the third bite. Even if she wore her sweater, that wasn’t his hen. Grunting as he tried to dissuade her by shaking his legs, eventually his patience waned and his foot came from above to stop directly on the hen’s body. The force was enough to kill her. Silence again.
“Hah. You killed her…” Said the voice from behind, Wikus turning around to see a distorted figure of a man slowly floating away. He had seen a ghost before, but never from so close. That lost soul had tricked him to kill his precious. Looking down at his precious’ corpse, he picked her up by her legs. Definitely dead. Sighing, he glanced back the way the Ghost left, bitterly thinking that now he had to choose a new chicken to be his precious. He had four remaining.
WIKUS
Thanks to Kiva for this amazing template.