Friday, April 11, 2014

Flash Fiction: Grandmother's Imp

The tiny thing hissed at me.

I dropped the milk bucket, the thing startled me so.

It was tiny, shaped like a crimson mockery of a man.  A pair of goat's horns dripped oil from its brows.  Its eyes reminded me of a locust, but its tail looked more like a rat's tail.  The scarier part of it was its mouth.  I could see a thousand fine teeth, row after row.

"Oh!"  I grasped my crucifix tight to my chest, I did not know what next to do or expect.

"Milk!  Milk!"  It leaped at the puddle of milk.  It lapped at it, giggling as it licked up each white slurp.

"Girl?"  I heard Grandmother's voice calling to me.

Grandmother walked in, her many skirts rattling.  She smiled at me, then frowned at the spilt bucket and the thing lapping from it.  "You!"

The demonic thing paused, then looked up at Grandmother.  I didn't know what to expect next, but it hissed.

"Grandmother, no!"  I cried, reaching to keep her from being exposed to the thing.  It might use some magick or something-

"Dago!  You wait your turn!"  Grandmother swatted at the tiny thing.  It bent over, looking guilty.  "Don't scare my little grand daughter!"

"Hungry!" The little horror hissed.

Grandmother shooed the tiny thing.

"Don't mind Dago, he just gets too excited and thinks he can steal things instead of asking."