AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You know the rules, Kat. If anyone is called to face the gauntlet and they decline and choose to be a chicken shit…” He trails off with a wicked grin on his face that Kat can’t help but return.
“Daaad!” Her instincts are to protect us from whatever this is, but she’s also just as mischievous as the man she obviously got a lot of her personality from, and she’s practically vibrating with excitement.
“Thems the rules!” Annabelle shouts, throwing a marshmallow towards us that I instinctively snatch out of the air before it hits Kat. She smiles softly at me in thanks before sighing and shaking her head, her eyes flicking between the three of us before sticking to Wilder.
“Alright…Wilder! Give us your best shot!” He blanches for a moment before collecting himself and shooting her a cocky grin.
“I see how it is, darlin’.” He spreads his arms and faces the crowd–ever the showman–before launching into his tale of spirits and ghouls.
It. Is. Terrible.
He tries. Goddamn, does he try. While the man might be damn good with people, charm oozing from him with ease at all times, he is definitely not a spooky connoisseur. The crowd of Sharpes does its best to give him a shot, hiding their smiles and laughter for as long as they can, but just as Wilder reaches the apex of what should be the scariest part, he somehow manages to get his foot caught in a bag of marshmallows and he lands on his face right in the sand.
Laughter roars as he groans and slides to his back, and not even I can hold back the smile it brings to my face. Kat, ever the soft-hearted one of the group, rushes over to him, fussing over him and making sure he’s okay through bouts of giggles and sputters.
“Damnit, Wilder! I chose you because I thought you’d be the best at working a crowd!” She loses her battle with the humor of the situation and dissolves into laughter as Wilder limply stays in a pile on the sound. Everyone around us chuckles along with her.
He pokes out his bottom lip in a playful pout, “Kitty-Kat, will you kiss my owies all better?”
She slaps his outreached hands away, to my relief, and stands before dusting off her legs. “Oh shush, you drama queen.”
It takes a bit longer for everyone to calm down and return to their seats, but when they do, Roger is back on his feet and clapping his hands once more. “Alright, alright. While that was a…uh…valiant effort from Wilder, I think it’s about time for someone else to have a go. So, who’s next?”
“Wyatt!”
“Emrys!”
The chorus of voices all shout out our names at once, one half for Wyatt and the other shouting for me, and a slow grin spreads across Roger's weathered face at the prospect of more fresh meat for the initiation rite. Wyatt straightens in his seat, spine stiffening, before smoothing his expression into cool detachment.
“I’m afraid I don’t actually know any scary stories.” A couple of boos sound out from the crowd and Kat shoots a glare at no one in particular. I do my best to hide my amusement, holding it back like I’m trying to break a wild stallion.
“Give them the bitch face all you want, Kat! We all know what happens to the chicken shits!” Annabelle cackles as Kat focuses her glare at her.
“Your sense of loyalty is admirable, Demon-Doll,” she retorts sarcastically, but Annabelle just grins.
“I very clearly recall Ethan’s first scary story initiation, Kitty. Revenge is a chicken dish best served cold. I hope you’re hungry!” Kat merely sticks her tongue out at her sister before turning to her dad.
“Did you really bring it here?” He nods enthusiastically and she sighs before facing Wyatt. “Are you sure you want to decline? Are you a chicken shit?”
“Don’t answer that-” Ethan tries to shout, but Annabelle slaps her hand over his mouth and pushes him from the bench and straight into the sand.
Kat stares expectantly at Wyatt, who looks completely unsure now, but I can see the trapped animal inside of him. He really doesn’t know any scary stories. How does someone go their whole life without learning at least one?
Shit. Even I’m starting to feel just a pang of sympathy for the man. Whatever this punishment is for the chicken shits, if it’s coming from the Sharpes, it can’t be good. This family is fucking crazy.
Wyatt clears his throat once before straightening his spine, resignation washing over his features. “I’m sorry, Kat. I don’t know any scary stories.”
She nods once, “Are you a chicken shit?”
“I am.”
She sighs loudly before turning to face the rest of her family. “You all witnessed it. We’ve got a chicken shit!” The crowd of Sharpes roars and shouts, stomping their feet in the sand like they’re about to witness a fight in a gladiator pit. A chant begins to wave through the voices until everyone–including Kat and her dad–have joined in.
“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!” It goes on as they all stand and separate as one of the younger male cousins takes off down the beach like his ass is on fire.
I stand up, backing away slowly, sort of feeling like I’ve been plucked from reality and dropped into the middle of some absurd spoof film about a failing cult or something. Kat turns and sees me backing away, a wicked grin lighting up her features as she shakes her head at me.
I stop in place.
