Scouts
03 Feb 2019Today’s prompt: “Something you’ve always regretted saying”
Scouts of the Armageddon Troop 137 just wanted you to buy some Cthulhu Cookies. This all could have been avoided if you’d just signed up for a $4.55 box of Choco-Cthulhus, Coconut Cloud-Things or Mh’ithrha Mints.
But you were in a pretty bad mood. You’ve been getting the worst shifts at work since your latest argument with your boss, Rick, about your repeated refusals of his repeated requests that you join his congregation at the Church of Starry Wisdom. Your retaliation complaint to HR appears to be going nowhere. And on top of that, Jenny and Samantha, the scouts who came to your doorstep, were there with their mother, Janice, a neighbor who has proselytized to you on multiple occasions even though you made it clear you didn’t want to be converted to her cult.
“No thanks,” you said to Jenny and Samantha, riding the line between politeness and gruffness. You started to close the door.
“But it’s for a great cause!” Samantha piped up.
“Every box you buy helps pay for food and housing for the Dark Monks who chant to tear apart the veil between worlds so that the Great Old Ones can bring us the apocalypse!” Jenny said.
You blinked at Jenny for a couple seconds, wondering how many times she’s given that spiel. That’s not how a normal 10-year-old talks.
And then Janice opened her fat mouth. “I’m sure even you could support something like that,” she said.
“You know what? This world may not be perfect, but maybe I don’t want to help a bunch of wannabe Brownies bring about its demise,” you snapped.
Jenny and Samantha’s eyes narrowed.
“Wannabe. Brownies?” Samantha forced out through gritted teeth.
“C’mon Sam,” Jenny said, not taking her eyes off you. “We’re done here.”
A day later you ran into Samantha and Jenny by themselves while you were out walking your dog.
“Hey, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I called you ‘wannabe Brownies,’” you said.
“We’re way past sorry,” Samantha informed you.
You started seeing a lot more of Troop 137 after that. Staring at you as you bought your morning coffee. Passing you as you walked your dog. They set up a Cthulhu Cookie stand across the street from your house and watched you the whole time.
“Haven’t you earned your ‘Intimidate a Member of the Community’ badges yet?” you call out to Jenny, Samantha, and their fellow scouts Erica and Becka one afternoon as you walked out of the house with your dog.
“Psshhh, we got those a long time ago,” Becka said.
“Yeah? What badge are you working on now?” you said.
“You’ll find out,” Erica said.
For about two weeks after that, you don’t see the girls at all. You feel like you should be relieved, but you aren’t.
You’ve been pulling down two swing shifts on Friday and Saturday, a day shift on Sunday, and night shifts Tuesday and Thursday for the last several months. One Sunday, you return home from work to find pastel pink and purple symbols written in chalk on your driveway, and Scouts of the Armageddon Troop 137 leaning against your garage. You decide to park on the street.
“Hey, what’s up?” you say as you get out of the car, trying to appear nonchalant.
Erica, Becka, Jenny, and Samantha walk to four overlapping circles, each with its center at the corner of a three-foot square in the middle of your driveway.
“Come, Istasha!” Erica calls out.
“Come, Coatlicue!” Becka cries.
“Come, Aylith!” Jenny shouts.
“Come, Ayi’ig!” Samantha screams.
“We invite you,” the girls speak in unison.
“Possess me!” Erica shrieks.
“Inhabit me!” Becka yells.
“Transform me!” Jenny squeals.
“Use me!” Samantha howls.
The girls join hands.
“I am your servant. I am your vessel,” they chant in unison. “I am your servant. I am your vessel. I am your servant. I am your vessel. I am your servant. I am your vessel.”
You’ve been inching past them on your lawn, fidgeting in your pocket for your keys, but unable to take your eyes off them. You’re about to pull your keys out of your pocket and make a run for the door when Becka opens her eyes. They’re a snake’s eyes, bright green with narrow slits for pupils.
You drop your keys and fumble in the grass for them. When you look up again, black smoke is gathering around the girls, who are still holding hands and chanting. They look blurry, somehow.
You reach your door and notice that the threshhold is covered with symbols, too. You reach for the door handle – and miss, somehow. You grab for it again, and miss again. You hold your keys up to the lock and they melt in your hand like room temperature butter.
You turn back to the scouts. Jenny now looks like a shadow-woman, with tree branches jutting out from her shoulder blades and her temples. Her glowing yellow eyes pierce you to your core.
Becka’s preteen body is unchanged, but where her head was, two snakes now grow out from her neck.
Samantha appears to be the big bad of the group. She has transformed into a giant octopus, and her tentacles are moving straight for you.
Erica basically looks like a catgirl. Go figure.
Samantha’s tentacles grab you and pull you away from the house you cannot enter and into the center of the square, where all four circles overlap. The girls hiss and yowl. They scratch and bite and tear and rend. They mangle and mar. You drop to the blood-streaked driveway, ribbons of flesh peeling away from your core. As you die, you look up at these Outer Goddesses, one of them still shrieking with the voice of Samantha, “Wannabe Brownies? Would your precious Brownies do this?”
Two weeks later, the members of Scouts of the Armageddon Troop 137 receive their ‘Ritual of Possession’ merit badges.