🐔😳 That day, everything in the garden was going well until he made the decision to go get that chicken.
It was a touching moment at first.
In the garden, my little cousin Eli was crouching and chuckling quietly while the birds pecked at his sneakers.
He stretched out and took our fluffy white hen, Marbles, and gave her a stuffed animal-like hug.
As I took photos, I was already thinking of the ideal Instagram caption.
Suddenly, though, every other fowl froze.
froze completely.
The trio of roosters, in the middle of their strut, came to a halt and gazed at Eli and Marbles with an odd expression.
They appeared to have detected danger as their heads tipped almost simultaneously.
Although I laughed nervously, Eli didn’t seem to notice anything strange.
Like a baby, he continued to rock Marbles softly.
That’s when I noticed it.
Our loudest and most erratic rooster, Boss, gradually withdrew.
No, not to run away from Eli. He was backing up to the shed.
The others came after.
Not like chickens, though.
More accurately, they were anticipating something.
I took a step toward Eli and subtly hinted that it might be time to let Marbles go.
“She doesn’t want to let go of me,” he replied, looking up at me in confusion.
“What do you mean she doesn’t—” I shot back.
At that moment, I noticed his arms.
Before he picked up that chicken, everything was good.
Up until he picked up that chicken, everything was good.
Something weird happened to me. It’s not a creepypasta, sorry. Just a second… inexplicable. Continue reading.
It was a nice moment at first. The hens were scuttling around my little cousin Eli, who was crouching in the garden and laughing. Reaching out, he took the fluffy white hen, Marbles, and gave her a stuffed-toy-like embrace.
As I took pictures, I was already thinking of the ideal Instagram caption.
But all of a sudden, things changed.
The rest of the chickens went cold. And the roosters. Their eyes—amazing. A pause. A chill.
Our loudest rooster, Boss, started to back away. Not like a chicken, though. He seemed to have a better understanding.
I moved in closer.
“Set Marbles down, Eli. The time has come.
Confused, he looked up and said, “She won’t let go.”
I also saw his arms.
Marks. slim. Nearly white. Like letters, three of them.
D. O. N.
“Don? Who is Don?
In a quiet voice, Eli answered, “I don’t know, but I believe she does.”
I glanced at Marbles below. She didn’t give us a look. She was examining us. She also has varied feathers. It bristled oddly.
The shed door creaked behind us. Boss gave the ground a harsh peck. A clear, powerful sound. similar to a signal.
We dashed back inside.
I secured everything. Marbles is still in Eli’s grasp. The letters went on. It now stated: DON’T
“Don’t—what?”
“She’s afraid,” Eli muttered. “Among the others.”
I gave Nana a call. The chickens were given to us by her. No response.
I will never forget what Eli said next: “She’s showing me pictures… like dreams.” However, I am awake.
“What are you observing?”
“A man. within the shed. buried.
My heart leaped.
The house had belonged to a man named Donald Whitmer three years prior. vanished. Never located. Just a quick note: “I’m heading to Florida.”
“Where exactly?” I questioned Eli.
“Behind the shed.” beneath the large tree.
We went. Marbles held on to him tightly without causing him any harm.
Eli indicated a location behind the shed. I excavated.
A few minutes later: a rusted, ancient box.
Inside: a few remnants as well as a wallet. Donald Whitmer.
I dialed the police. They arrived. They looked into it.
According to the newspapers:
Uncertain circumstances led to the discovery of a missing individual after several years.
No obvious lead. No judgments.
Nana gave me a call two days later.
“You mean it was the chickens?”
I shuddered.
“You were aware?”
“I was aware that they were protecting something.”
Everything has returned to nearly normal after then.
On occasion, though, I see Marbles looking at me from the other side of the garden in the morning. Not dangerous. There, just there.
And I’ve never forgotten what Eli told me:
Justice was not what she desired. She desired to be heard.
The most profound truths don’t often shout out loud.
They watch, they peck.
Justice can also have feathers.
