I fell to my knees, the demolished remains of my village crumbling to dust.  An eerie silence filled the air. I closed my eyes, listening to the rubble of the village collapse. I curled up into a small ball, and I closed my eyes. Damn those turkeys.

I lived in a quaint village. We all lived in makeshift houses, formed out of mud and hardened clay. Our community was small, and nobody was a stranger. We looked out for each other. Even children worked hard every day. My father and I would go hunting, bringing food for all of us to eat. No one was ever full. No one ever smiled. We all knew that the day would come.

“Dad, when will we have to move again?” I asked. I took a long drink of water. “Will it be far this time too?”

“Before the leaves fall. ” His brows furrowed. “We can’t risk to be found this year. We can’t allow a tragedy to happen again.” I put down my portion of the chicken we had caught that evening. I remembered what happened last year. My appetite was gone. I looked outside at the bright green leaves that swayed in the warm, soft wind. 

“Where will we move this year?” I asked.

“We’ve scouted out an area a little deeper into the woods,” he said. “ The ground is flat and it’s close to a lake.” The chicken still remaining on my plate, I stood up and left the table. I pushed the curtains out of my face as I took a step outside. “We have a hunt early tomorrow,” Dad said as he grabbed his favorite oak-colored hat off of the table. The clay huts were sprawled out randomly, as if the earth had a bad case of zits. I walked past two or three huts, the smell of food causing my hunger to slowly crawl back. Next to one of the huts was the Danger Bell. The children were strictly told never to use it unless they came. I sat down beside my tree. It wasn’t really my property or anything, but I always came there to relax. The bark was shaped perfectly to fit my back. The scent of grass calmed me down. I closed my eyes and remembered all of our past residences. I’ve moved thirteen times now. I’m lucky that I’ve never come face to face with one of them.

My eyes fluttered open as I tried to get a hold of my surroundings. I was still sitting underneath my old oak tree, but the sun had already gone to bed. The sky was sprinkled with small glistening stars, the moon emitting an opaque glow. A single leaf danced through the air, and it landed on my hand. Thud, thud, thud. My ears perked up as I heard a distant sound. My eyes widened, and my heart began to pound. Fear crawled up my back and grasped my heart like a cold hand of a dark monster. I knew what that sound was; my Dad had told me about it in the past. I ran back towards the huts, my eyes locked onto the Danger Bell. I fumbled as I grabbed a stick and hit the bell with a loud crack. The bell sounded, releasing a loud ringing sound. I gave the bell a few more frantic hits before the a hand grabbed my shoulder. It was the village priest, Father Clark. A look of alarm shone in his eyes.

“ What happened, Matthew?” he asked.

“F-Father Clark,” I gasped for air. “ I-It’s them, they’re here.” He looked me in the eyes and gave me a quizzical look.

“What are you saying, Matthew? It’s not that time of year yet.” Others had started to gather around like a flock of vultures circling the corpse of an animal. Curiosity pulled them closer as if I had my own center of gravity. I saw my Dad come to the front of the forming crowd. He struggled to break through the rows of shoulders.

“What is this about, Son?” He looked at me with sharp eyes. He adjusted his brown hat.

I cleared my throat, “ It’s them.”

“That’s not possible, Matt.” His brows furrowed, and his hands rested on his hips. “The leaves haven’t fallen yet.”

“I-I know, but I heard them! I-I was sitting underneath the oak tree when-” I trailed off. Everyone was looking at me like I was a mad man. They didn’t believe me.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a bear or something?”

“You’re crazy.” Voices sprung up from the crowd. My brows furrowing, teeth clenching, I looked down in shame. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was just another animal in the woods. Maybe I had just lost my mind, being stuck in this miserable village. Always running.

At that moment the trees behind the farthest hut rustled. We all looked up in surprise as three gleaming, enormous claws emerged from the shadows of the cluster of trees. The trees bent out of shape, giving way to the colossal beast. It was covered in plumes of feathers, all of them the color of spruce trees. Its head was bare and lumpy like it was covered in warts. The vivid red neck of the monster looked like its insides had been flipped out. The gargantuan beast looked at us with soulless, beady eyes. I was one of them, a turkey. We stared in awe, and everyone was speechless. I took a step back and tripped. My eyes widened, and my arms trembled. The massive creature took a heavy step, causing the earth to shake.

As if that was our signal, the crowd dispersed almost immediately. Everyone  was in a state of panic, running away frantically. Feet buckling, hands trembling, I couldn’t move. A  feeling of terror locked me down. The chains of dread gripped me tightly. The turkey let out an earth trembling screech, and it jumped into action. Claws pounding the earth; it dove right at Father Clark. He couldn’t outrun the creature, and it opened its enormous beak. In a split second, Father Clark was gone, forever trapped in the turkey’s bowel. My body trembled, and my heart began to beat like drums. The turkey had locked its eyes onto its next target. It bolted for my Uncle Sam, and it ruthlessly snapped him up. I couldn’t bear to watch any longer. The sight of it made me feel nauseous. I looked around and saw others duck into the mud huts, praying for their safety. For a split second, I was tempted to hide in one of the clay huts as well. Then the monster crushed a hut under its claws. The screaming of villagers was cut off as the rubble fell on their heads.

I scrambled to my feet, and I turned around and sprinted for the woods. I churned my legs, using all of the energy I could muster. I ran past the crumbling, cracking huts. I ran past my friends screaming for help. I ran past my tree. I only thought about moving forward. Soon the trees surrounded me, luminous shadows stalking over me. My feet bruised, and my toes bled. Heart beating, blood pumping, I ran faster than I had ever run before. My mind was only thinking about moving forward and getting away. My vision began to blur, and my body began to feel heavy. I tripped on the root of a tree, and my face plunged into dirt. I pushed myself up and gasped for air. I scrubbed my eyes and nose; the rich earthy smell of dirt filled my lungs. The horrible screaming was behind me, and I could only hear the sounds of nature. The chirping of crickets rung in my ears, and the leaves swayed in the night.

I sat against a tree. It wasn’t as comfortable as my tree. It was rough, and the small twigs poked my back. The air was cool; a soft breeze cooled my sweat. My breath was shaky, but I managed to collect my thoughts. I calmed down, and my heart beat slowed to an even rhythm. What am I doing? I thought. I-I left them back there, all of them. An image of my dad, Father Clark, and everyone else in the village appeared in my head. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I stood up and rubbed the tears off of my face. I have to go back. They might need my help. I took a step, then froze. The chilling image of Father Clark being eaten by that monster came back to me. I grabbed a branch to keep myself from falling. I swallowed hard and gritted my teeth. I began to run, back to the endless screaming.

A part of me was ready to meet the same fate as Father Clark. I ran past trees and bushes that looked familiar. I was getting close. My legs were sore, and my breaths were sharp, but I endured. I needed to continue onward. The trees and bushes became more and more sparse. The shadows cast by the forest had began to lift as the moonlight hit the grass. Finally, the trees parted, and I could see my tree. The twigs and branches disappeared, and under my feet were the soft blades of grass. Shimmering and swaying, the grass was a dark shade of green underneath the moonlight. I began to slow down, for their was no screaming. Did they escape? Or did the turkey leave? Questions began to fill my head, but I had known the answer. I slowed to a jog, and then to a walk.

I looked around. The huts were all destroyed, as if the earth had popped its zits. Enormous footprints were imprinted on the ground. “ Anyone there?” I asked in a shaky voice. There was no response. The night was silent, and the shimmering stars lit up the black sky like thousands of candles gleaming far away. A cloud covered the moon, and an eerie shadow cast over the scene. Shattered pots were scattered across the ground, and splinters layed around like thousands of tiny needles.  I walked around, and I stepped on something soft and textile. I looked down, and underneath my foot was a brown hat, the color of oak trees. I fell to my knees and bawled. The hat gripped tightly in my hands. I didn’t care if it heard me and came back. Fond memories of the villagers flashed through my brain. I couldn’t forgive the turkey, but more than that I was furious with myself. They took everyone except for me. I might have been able to stop them somehow, if I had stayed. I screamed, and I wailed. I pounded my fist on the ground, anger fueling me. I was alone. In an empty village, in a cruel world, and it was my fault. I slowly stood up. Tears blurred my vision. I didn’t know what I would do next. I have to go, I thought. I knew that no one had escaped, but I had to try and look for them. I had to make up for my wrongdoings. I couldn’t take back what I had already done, or hadn’t done.

-Tomoki Cooper