A Stormy Feast

Summary

A modern gargoyle, awakened by storms, recounts its life as a protector by day and a ravenous creature by night, detailing its journey from New England to Seattle and its insatiable hunger that leads to the consumption of a woman during a stormy night.

Abstract

In "A Stormy Feast," the narrator, a contemporary gargoyle, revels in the stormy weather that brings it to life. Unlike its medieval ancestors who were mere guardians, this gargoyle experiences a transformation during tempests, becoming animated and consumed by a voracious appetite. Its origin story hints at a tragic event during its voyage to the New World, which altered its nature. The gargoyle describes its awakening on a train, leading to its first human consumption, and its eventual arrival in Seattle to guard a bank building. On a particularly wild and wet night, the gargoyle spots a woman seeking shelter from the storm and, unable to resist its hunger, abducts and devours her in a gruesome feast. Despite its fullness, the gargoyle contemplates feasting on another passerby but ultimately decides to return to its post, resuming its guardian role. The tale is a blend of dark fantasy and horror, showcasing the duality of the gargoyle's existence.

Opinions

The gargoyle expresses a sense of identity and purpose, distinguishing itself from its ancestors who were simply guardians.
It reflects on the transformation that occurred during the voyage to the New World, acknowledging that it lacks detailed knowledge of the event but is aware of the rumors involving a storm at sea and the loss of a sculptor's son.
The gargoyle shows a lack of remorse for its actions, viewing humans as potential meals rather than beings with intrinsic value.
It demonstrates a keen sense of observation and predatory instinct, easily spotting a lone woman during the storm.
The gargoyle has a sarcastic inner dialogue, particularly when the woman asks what it is, indicating a dark sense of humor about its dual nature.
There is a clear enjoyment of the act of feasting, as the gargoyle describes the woman's blood as tasting sweet and her entrails as the best part of the meal.
The gargoyle displays a moment of contemplation when it hears another person approaching, weighing its hunger against its recent satiation before deciding to spare the potential second victim.
The story concludes with the gargoyle returning to its duty as a guardian, suggesting a cycle of dormancy and predation tied to weather conditions.

Flash Fiction — Dark Tales Series

It is a dark and stormy night. Just the way I like it. In fact, it’s the only way I like it because without it, I cannot come alive and feast. You see, I am a gargoyle, but not your Medieval gargoyles. No, those are my ancestors. They were guardians. I am a new breed for a New World. Sure, it is still my job to guard things, but only when the sun or moon is shining. Something happened though on the voyage to the New World back a few centuries ago. I don’t have the specs on it. I’ve just heard the rumors. Something about a storm at sea and the loss of a sculptor’s son. I just know that now, when I come alive during a storm, I am ravenous and my hunger will not cease until I have devoured a victim.

My journey began in New England where I was crafted and then shipped to Seattle to guard this bank building. There was a terrible thunder storm during my shipment. I woke up in a crate on a train. Hungry. Weary. I clawed my way out and found a brakeman nearby. I didn’t know at the time that his job was so important. I just devoured him, left only his skeleton behind. The train derailed and it took another fortnight before I reached my true destination.

But here I am. Sitting here on top of this bank building, surveying the streets below. It’s a hell of a storm tonight. A lot of thunder, lightning, a real downpour. There won’t be many out on a night like this. I always find at least one fool stupid enough to be out walking alone. I focus my eyes on a nearby underpass. People like to stand under those, thinking they will be safe until the storm passes. I have a keen eye though and spot one easily. A woman dressed in a blue raincoat. No umbrella. Good, she won’t have anything to defend herself.

I release my wings. Shutter them softly in the wind. Stand and cast off. I swoop down into the dusk-filled street below. Dive into the underpass. In one quick whoosh, I scoop the woman up with my clawed feet and carry her away. I prefer to feast in the park under the cover of darkness and trees. I find an isolated spot and set down. Drop the screaming woman beside me. I slash across her mouth with my right front claw.

“Shut up!” I scream.

“Wh…what are you?” she whimpers.

I’ve never gotten accustomed to that question. Oh hello, I am your friendly gargoyle by day and your nightmare by stormy night. I mean seriously, what do they really want to hear? That I won’t eat them? I laugh at my own silliness and get down to business.

I withdraw my wings into my back. Inch closer to the woman. She screams again. A loud shrill that echoes in my ears. I smell her blood. Hear her heart beat quicken. Breathe in her fear. In an instant I am upon her. I rip into her neck and sever her jugular. No more screams. Just a gurgling noise now. I drink her blood, allow it to flow warm and soft down my throat. I raise my head and let out a loud growl. Her blood tastes so sweet! Her body goes limp. I tear through her muscles, feasting and gnawing upon her flesh. I rip out first her heart and suck it down. Then her liver and kidneys. Finally, her entrails. Those are the best part. They just glide down my throat like a long wiggling worm. My jagged teeth rip, tear, and shred. Not a single piece of flesh is left behind. Sorry vultures, you will have no reason to circle about here tonight.

As I sit and lick my claws to slurp down the last of her blood, I suddenly hear splashing footsteps. Damn! I release my wings. My eyes glow green in the night as I see a passerby. To feast or not to feast? This was a plump morsel and I am quite full. I guess this one will survive another night. I flap my wings and whoosh away into the storm. Back to my bank building. Back to my guardian job.

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Lori Carlson writes poetry, fiction, personal essays, creative non-fiction, and articles. She focuses on Spirituality, Life Lessons, Self-Awareness, Relationships, Mental Health, and LGBTQ+. She is the Owner/Editor of Promptly Written and Not For Bedtime Stories. You can find her older stories on her creative writing blog, Ravyne’s Nest and random ramblings on her personal blog, A Delicious Torment.

FICTION

A Stormy Feast

Flash Fiction — Dark Tales Series