Creepy Hollow Fae: Nascryl

Year of study: second
Assignment type: group (with mentor)





Black leathery wings. A beak for a mouth. Skinny, clawed feet like the bottom part of a burned chicken. And sparkly bangles on each of its wrists. All around, a very attractive combination.

Not.

“So who’s going to do the honors?” asks Rowan. He’s sitting on one of the stationery bikes, looking bored as he swings his legs back and forth. As far as mentors go, he’s pretty useless.

Ryn steps on my shoe. “What’s wrong, Pixie Sticks? Can’t do this one?”

I slide my foot away, swivel it, and press the heel of my boot down hard on his toes. “Not can’t.” I say. “Won’t.” I’m not about to embarrass myself.

“Well, would one of you do it already,” says Rowan, “’cause this nascryl is about to make a meal out of a bodybuilder.” Sure enough, the nascryl is eyeing a man with muscles so large it’s a wonder they haven’t burst free from his skin.

“Gross,” mutters Mai. “Humans are absurd.”

“Completely,” says Rowan, not really listening to her. “Dale? You want to get rid of the nascryl?”

Dale puffs his chest out, probably trying to imitate the humans that fill this place. “Uh, I don’t really think it’s my thing, sir.”

There’s a sigh from Rowan, accompanied by an eye roll.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” says Mai, stepping forward to face the nascryl clinging to the treadmill’s TV screen. She opens her mouth and begins belting out some inane song about blind mice. I don’t know where she learned it, but it seems to be doing the trick. The nascryl covers its ears and shrieks in agony, crumpling in on itself until it vanishes into a cloud of bad-smelling smoke.

~  ~  ~

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If you'd like to know more about my A to Z flash fiction pieces, read my A to Z Challenge Theme for 2012 post.