It was midnight when they came.

I hid in my closet, behind the boxes of winter clothes. The dust and musty smell assaulted my nose, choking up my throat and seizing my lungs. I frantically arranged the bags and cardboard boxes around me and hunkered down as far into the corner as I could go. I clapped my hands over my mouth and tried to control my breathing. Over the roar of the blood pounding in my head, I could hear footsteps moving quietly through the house.

Continue?

yyr (Fri 7/12/2013, 11:13 AM):
The footsteps slowly grew louder, bit by bit, until I heard my own door creak open. Then... silence.

I tried to distract myself, while still keeping my breathing under control and locking my mouth under my clasped hands. How could this have happened? I'd made a list of all the bills and minimum payments, and sent out envelopes to each bank, each company. I didn't think I'd missed any...

"amy" (Mon 7/15/2013, 12:06 AM):
My ears tingled with the effort to pick up any sound, but all I could hear was my labored breathing. Sweat dripped down my face. What was going on outside? Had I covered my tracks or...?

My hands trembled with tension. I was struck with the crazy urge to leap out of my hiding spot, kicking and screaming into what would be sure disaster. Anything would be better than this waiting game. Is this how a hunted rabbit feels? Is that why they bolt from their hiding place? The fear eats them up inside, tearing and rending their mind to pieces until they can't bear it anymore.

yyr (Tue 7/16/2013, 5:59 PM):
The silence became deafening.

I wasn't even quite sure of who could possibly have come here to flush me out. The creditors themselves? A hitman they hired? Someone else? I understand that I live in a community where there are very few secrets, but I was under the impression that my friends outnumbered my enemies. Could I have been wrong?

Who could it be? I started thinking carefully about my interactions over the last few da--
I about fell over as Ode to Joy started blaring out of massive speakers, sounding like they were no more than inches from me, at volumes totally unheard of by my ears, which were now crying in pain.

"TheFuzz" (Mon 7/22/2013, 1:00 AM):
I stumbled out of the closet with my hands clapped over my ears and my heart leaping out of my chest. Hangers clattered all around me as my frantic flailing yanked shirts and jackets down onto my head. The Ugly (now also treacherous) Christmas Sweater wrapped itself around my face, suffocating me with the scent of moth balls. I couldn't hear, see, or smell anything!

My feet tripped over a box and I fell to my knees. I saw stars as my face smacked the floor. Great, I'm going to die looking like a idiot. I shoved the sweater off my face and got my first look at my assailant.

A giant rooster wearing combat boots and a bullet-proof vest cocked its head curiously at me. "BUCKAW?!"

yyr (Wed 7/24/2013, 11:40 AM):
I could utter nothing at this point but "what...the...hell?!"

The rooster squawked loudly before drawing a shotgun and pointing it at my face.

"Eeeep!"

I rolled to my left side as quickly as I could, which got me out of harm's way right before the trigger was pulled. The Ugly Christmas Sweater had seen its last Christmas.

I heard a loud, angry cluck as I sprang to my feet, but didn't bother turning my head; I simply ran out the door and down the hallway at maximum speed...
...which means I didn't see the wire set up across my hallway until I'd already tripped over it.

The ground caught me a moment later. I felt stunned.

Slowly, I was able to roll onto my back, just quickly enough to notice that a masked figure was swinging some sort of object at my he--

Anonymous (Fri 8/2/2013, 12:08 AM):
I came to in a river of my own drool. I groaned my dismay as a bright light assaulted my eyes. Red flowers burst under my eyelids. My head felt like someone had tried to bash it in with a crowbar--

Wait, someone did try that, didn't they?

I lifted my hand up to my skull to feel the damage, but then I realized I couldn't because my wrists were tied to the armrest of the chair I was sitting on. My ankles were bound too.

Fantastic, this night just keeps getting better and better.

I cracked open one eye and then promptly wished I had kept it closed.

yyr (Mon 8/5/2013, 1:29 PM):
I shook my head in disbelief, and blinked my eyes a few times. I bit myself to make sure this wasn't a dream...ow. No, this wasn't a dream, and there really was a giant hen--wearing an apron, mind you--stirring something in what appeared to be a large cauldron. I couldn't see its contents from where I was sitting, but...it smelled like some sort of soup.

My wrists were tied.

...no. No way.

I began struggling in an effort to free my hands. It only took a few moments for Hen to notice.

"CLUCK!! BOCK BOCK!"

Suddenly I heard a loud STOMP STOMP STOMP, getting louder. The giant rooster from earlier appeared immediately after, still wearing his vest and boots, and still toting the shotgun.

"Amy" (Fri 8/23/2013, 4:28 PM):
"Bock!" said Rooster as he shoved the shotgun against my chest and looked me over with a steely gaze. "Buckaw cluck cluck!" He punctuated each word with a tap from the shotgun and he nodded to show he was not afraid to carry out his threats.

I was beginning to regret all those late-night runs to KFC. Divine retribution?

Hen tapped the ladle against the side of the cauldron and clucked happily. She looked at Rooster and cocked her head. At the axe leaning against the wall.

SHIT.

yyr (Wed 9/4/2013, 1:13 PM):
Rooster replied with another happy-sounding cluck, as he placed the shotgun against the nearest wall, and obediently trotted towards the axe.

I noticed that the chair I'd been tied down to wasn't all that heavy, nor was it attached to the floor...

Rooster's path to the axe took him right past Hen. He stopped for a moment, however. My vision was still a bit blurry from the earlier impact, but I'm pretty sure the next thing I saw was Hen jumping with a squawk, whirling around towards Rooster WHO HAD JUST GRABBED HER BUTT.

...at this point, I was willing to believe anything.

The two clucked at each other, seemingly happily, and then started rubbing against each other, making noises I'd never quite heard from chickens before. Then...the two left the room abruptly.

"Amy" (Thu 9/5/2013, 4:58 PM):
I eyed the doorway they had just passed through suspiciously. What was this? A trap? That didn't make any sense at all. Were they fucking with me?

Then I heard a pleased trill from the next room.

Oh. They were fucking each other.

Trying hard to banish my curiosity about how chickens fucked (and the mental images my mind conjured), I scanned the room for an escape route. Two doors--one was the door that they had gone through and the other looked like it lead to the backyard. Score!

I rocked my chair, working up the momentum to scoot myself across the floor. Luckily my noises were covered up by the rhythmic thumping of some serious raunchy chicken sex. Unfortunately my mind would be scarred forever.

Then, as I was only three feet from the door, I felt my chair tip...

yyr (Wed 9/11/2013, 5:00 PM):
...as it snagged on some previously-invisible object and began to fall forward.

Shit.

I braced for impact as best as I could, but that could not have prepared me for...

"COCK-A-DOOOODLE-DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

It sounded almost like the traditional rooster crowing early in the morning, but...well...obviously something different had just happened. And thank goodness, because there was absolutely no way they could possibly have heard the sound of me hitting the floor with a chair tied around my back, which was barely audible by comparison.

Of course, this also meant that I was running out of time.

"Bock, buckaw!" came a booming voice from the bedroom.

"Cluck cluck cluck!" said Hen, seemingly in protest. "Cl-cluck, cluck, cluck...bock bock! Bock buckaw cluck!"

I wiggled and shimmied forward towards the door.

"Bock...bock..."

Hen wasn't having it. "Cluck bock buckaw!"

"Amy" (Fri 9/13/2013, 1:15 AM):
I wiggle and shimmied and inched my way to the door. I could feel the cold air blowing on my face. My ankle restraints had slipped off the chair legs when I had upended myself and I was air-swimming across the floor with a vengeance. In the background I could hear Hen and Rooster arguing furiously.

"C'mon, c'mon..." I whispered frantically as I worked on the rope binding my wrists. Adrenaline pumping through my veins as my left hand squeezed out, then my right. I clutched the doorknob and struggled to pull myself up when the steadily rising crescendo of clucks and bock-bocks abruptly stopped.

I froze when Hen stomped back into the kitchen, but she paid me no mind. Amidst a flurry of bent feathers, she grabbed the butcher's knife from the chopping board and strode back into the bedroom.

There was a tense silence.

yyr (Sun 10/6/2013, 12:49 PM):
The silence continued for longer than I'd expected. Perhaps this was the moment when Hen realized she'd seen me trying to escape...?

STOMP, STOMP, STOMP.

"Buck...buckaw...!"

The next sound I heard resembled a muted squish.

"BUCKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK!"

And then, a large crash, as if Jack had just slain the giant, who collapsed onto the ground.

I was frozen, with one hand still on the doorknob, simply trying to piece together what was happening. Loud squawking continued from the bedroom.

Hen emerged with a content look on her face. Ignoring me once again, she proceeded towards the cauldron, with a trail of blood dripping onto the floor as she approached. When she was just a couple of feet away, she tossed the bleeding object into the cauldron.

As it sailed for a short distance through the air, I caught a glimpse. I almost vomited on the spot.

The squawking was now more like wailing.

I left immediately. I ran from that house as quickly as my legs could carry me. At first I had thought I was dealing with murderous giant chickens. But now I knew I had been up against something far more dangerous: a giant feminist hen. I had truly believed that my life was in danger, but clearly, my manhood was facing almost-certain removal...a fate arguably worse than death.

I shed a tear for my fallen brother. What would become of that poor rooster?

And...could I live with myself for abandoning him...?

"Amy" (Fri 10/18/2013, 6:33 PM):
Then I thought back to all the chicken and chicken-by-products that I had already eaten and decided that one more sacrifice wasn't going to break the proverbial camel's back. I hopped into the first car that slowed down for me and got the hell out of Dodge.

<hr/>

I was still jumping at shadows as the nice family that had picked me up dropped me off at the corner of my street. Every dark shape looked like a vindictive hen coming to complete the job. Every twig snapping was her coming out of the alleyway with the butcher knife raised. The space between my shoulder blades felt especially vulnerable.

As I reached the walk to my front door, I noticed a small package sitting on the doormat. The hair on the nape of my neck prickled and I looked left and right, peering into the darkness. Was this another trap?

However, the coast seemed completely clear as I stopped with the package sitting innocuously at my feet. Now that I was closer, I could see it was just a thermos for keeping food warm. It looked harmless enough and merely sloshed gently as I picked it up.

I unscrewed the top and the smell that hit me. It was... No way...

Chicken soup.

I stared at the contents of the thermos, then shrugged and brought it inside. I went to the kitchen and pulled out a bowl.

It's bad to waste food.