This is part of the #MAYnia challenge run by the 
Today's Maynia prompt: crow
@freewritehouse/maynia-day-twelve
The Daily Freewrite prompt: succulent
@mariannewest/day-933-5-minute-freewrite-monday-prompt-succulent
…
If you have nothing better to do you can read my previous “chapters”: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven
…
A long time ago, in one of his other guises, he had been called the Succulent Crow. He couldn't even remember who - or perhaps, what - it was who gave him that name. But for some reason, as he broke the back of the gull and pulled its head from its body, the name came to his mind.
He stuck the neck into his mouth and sucked on the blood as it pumped from the wound. The life force tasted good. Not as good as a larger beast. But it would do. Around him, shadows gathered. He shooed them away.
"This is mine," he hissed. "You want food, you get your own."
The shadows recoiled from him and he chuckled, taking another bite from the bird. It did taste better than rat flesh.
But only just.
He needed more than flesh. He needed the life force of a human if he were to evolve again. And he felt it was time. It was overdue, even. He had been going by the Name of Poppery for a long time now. It was time for change.
How long had he been sleeping? It was impossible to tell. And besides time was not something that concerned him. Not usually.
But this form that he held was weakening. He could feel it. He needed to evolve.
He had thought he might evolve after the last feast day. Everything was right for it. He had felt the energy pulsate within him. The energy of the storm and the other energy too.
But something had intervened. Something had halted the process.
The being that went by the name of Poppery did not know what had gone wrong. It had never happened before.
Was it something to do with the one who slipped through his fingers? But he had rectified that. That woman had died and her life force had been his.
But, instead of evolving as was his right, he fell asleep.
And when he awoke he was VERY hungry.
It was the girl that woke him. He could smell her. Young and full of the kind of nourishment he needed.
But she evaded him too.
The being that went by the name of Poppery could feel the anger rise within him. He needed to feed properly. These rats and birds were just appetisers. He needed more. He needed to evolve.
He threw the drained bird to the ground. One of the shadows darted forward and snatched the bird.
“I need more!” he cried.
The shadows around him sniggered. They were mocking him! Laughing at his distress.
He reached out and grabbed one, squeezing it until it popped. A black disk fell to the floor with a ting and he grabbed hold of it. He opened his mouth wide. His yellow teeth were large and strong, like a legion of Satan’s soldiers guarding the gates to hell. He tilted his head back and dangled the disk above his cave-like mouth. The other shadows were silent now. The being that went by the name of Poppery smiled, dropped the black disk into his mouth and crunched it, swallowing it down with his acrid saliva. The shadows withdrew and then scuttled away from him.
“Show me respect,” he hissed. “For I am your master.” He tilted his head to one side listening for a moment for a sign of dissent.
But the shadows were still and silent.
…
Mindy shivered.
“Are you cold, dear?” Howard asked.
She shook her head.
“No. I’m not cold. I… I felt something.”
“You’ve got goosebumps, Aunt Mindy,” Alba said, taking hold of her arm and giving it a gentle rub.
“Someone walk over your grave, dear?”
“Howard! You know I hate that expression.”
“Sorry.” Howard took her other arm and they walked together up the old Humpbuckle-on-Sea pier.
It was windy. Perhaps that was what had caused the chill that crawled up her spine like a million baby spiders. But Mindy didn’t think so. There was something here. Something not right. She had felt it before.
“The ghost train is at the end of the pier,” Alba said. “And the theatre too.”
“Yes,” Mindy said. “I remember. Not much has changed.” That was not really true. A lot of things had changed here in Humpbuckle-on-Sea. Not just the shops - so many more charity shops on the high street, so few independant bakers, butchers and greengrocers - but also the feel of the place. It felt… grey.
Shadows, she thought. Dark, grey shadows.
Something seemed to cling to Humpbuckle-on-Sea, something that seemed to suck the life, the joy out of it. But perhaps she was projecting. After all when her friend had been cruelly ripped from her life she could never see the town in the same way.
But there was something wrong about Humpbuckle-on-Sea.
“Can you feel it?” she said out loud.
Howard looked at her, raising his eyebrow in that quizical way he did when she was talking about spirtual matters.
“Feel what, dear.”
“I can.” Alba was pale, and Mindy realised she was shaking too.
Howard looked from one to the other and shook his head.
“I really have no idea what you are both talking about.”
“There is something… wrong,” Alba said.
“Yes!” Mindy said, pleased to have someone on her side for once.
“It’s weird,” Alba continued. “It seems sombre. Almost as if it is overcast.” She looked up into the sky shielding her eyes from the sun. “But there’s hardly a cloud in the sky.”
“Shadowy,” Mindy said, thinking of the Shadow Man from her visions.
“Yes,” Alba agreed. “Shadowy.”
“Are you two winding me up?” Howard asked. “I don’t know what you are talking about. It’s a lovely sunny day.”
Mindy and Alba exchanged looks. She gets it, Mindy thought. She can feel it too. It’s not just me. I’m not going mad.
“Have you noticed,” Alba said pointing at the wooden boards that they walked on. “How weak the shadows are. Even though the sun is shining bright, we’re not really casting any shadows ourselves.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous…” Howard’s voice trailed off as he looked around him. He stopped walking, his smile had faded too. “Well,” he said, turning around. “I do believe you are right. How odd.”
Mindy smiled at him.
“See?” she said. “Something is not right.”
“Bound to be a perfectly logical explanation. Physics will explain it,” he said, scratching his head. “Not psychics.”
“Your clever, word play doesn’t mean that I will agree with you, Howard.”
“I’ll google it when we get home,” Howard said.
They linked arms again and continued on their way towards the imposing building at the end of the pier. There had always been a theatre on the end of the pier. But the ghost train had come much later. Mindy remembered riding on it as a teenager. But she didn’t think it was there when she she was younger than that.
Mindy felt the darkness grow as she neared the place. She felt another shiver run down her spine. Whatever was lurking in that building, Mindy was fairly sure she didn’t want to meet it. But she was also fairly sure she was supposed to.
There were two men standing at the entrance to the ghost train. One was young and good looking, with sandy coloured hair that he kept flicking out of his eyes. The other was probably younger than Mindy. But not much. He was rather overweight, and sweat stood out on his forehead.
“Hello,” Howard said, breaking away from Mindy’s arm. His had stretched to shake the large man’s hand. “I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for the owner of the ghost train.”
The fat man shook Howards hand but didn’t offer it to Mindy, or Alba. Mindy was glad. She imagined his palm would be rather damp and spongy. It would be like shaking hands with warm flaccid pastry.
“What do you want?” he said.
“I wonder if I could talk to you about the incident on the ghost train,” Mindy said. “The one with the young girl.”
“I’ve already told ‘im,” the fat man jabbed a finger in the direction of the young man with floppy hair. “I have nothing more to say to the press.”
“I’m not a reporter,” Mindy said. “Do we look like reporters?”
The fat man looked at all three of them. He pointed at Alba. “She might do. You two are two old, now I think about it.”
“Charming,” Howard said.
“I’m not talking to anyone,” the man said. “The council have done a health and safety inspection.” He stared at the young man, who was now smiling at Mindy. “We passed. There is nothing more to be said. Bugger off.”
And with that he spun around on his heel and marched off into the building.
“Jeff Walker, I’m a reporter for the Humpbuckle Eye” the young man said, sticking his hand out. “Would you be Mindy Morris?” Mindy nodded and shook his hand. “And you must be Morris. My dad said you’d been in contact. Sorry I haven’t got back to you. I was waiting for my source to get back to me. To see if she wanted to talk to you or not.” He looked at Alba and smiled. “And you must be Alba. Sorry, not to have replied to your emails. Same reason.”
Alba smiled.
“That’s okay. Is there any chance we could talk to you?”
Jeff Walker nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “But could we talk somewhere else. I hope you don’t think I’m being flakey. But, there is something about this place, today. It’s weirding me out.”
Mindy looked pointedly at Howard.
“No problem, Mr Walker,” she said. “My niece and I were just saying the very same thing to my husband.”
“And have you noticed,” Jeff said as they began to walk back down the pier. “That we aren’t casting any shadows.”
“We had noticed,” Mindy said. “Hadn’t we, Howard.”
“Hmmm,” Howard said. He looked at his watch. “I know it’s a bit early for lunch. But does anyone fancy some fish and chips?”
...
As usual I wrote the freewrite in five minutes using themostdangerouswritingapp.com and then copied and pasted it into a googledoc, tied it up a bit.
...
This post will feature in the new Freewriters Community) Curation Newsletter: The Freewriters Daily
To find it visit the Freewriters Community published sometime after 4pm UTC
...
How do I post to the Freewriters Community (hive-161155)?
...
…
...
I also run a bed and breakfast in France!