Match abandoned – only four people (Richard N, Jeremy, Oz, Daniel) signed up.
Two beady shrewd and mysterious eyes popped up from the hole at the base of the large tree in the middle of the Rye, flitting from side to side, watching out for “them.” He was always very careful not to be seen; dashing between piles of fallen leaves, tree trunks and patches of uncut wild flowers waving in the the breeze, never leaving a trace of his footsteps. He let out a high-pitched snigger of satisfaction as he drew closer to the place. The place where “they” arrive on the same day each week. “They,” who always ran around like lemmings, trampling the soft green grass into the muddy earth, shouting like loonies while kicking a fallen moon. How strange and tall they were.
He rubbed his hands with glee as he waited behind the root butresses. He gripped the rough bark and peered round the trunk, an evil grin spreading across his face, his brown bushy eyebrows being the only giveaway to his otherwise hidden tiny little form.
He paused. What’s this?! His face dropped and his body began to shake with fear. Complete panic filled his terrifed little body and he shrieked in utter terror.
“They” weren’t there! It used to be rare but over the last year it had happened more often as “they” had begun to show up less frequently on every seventh day. 10 times this year they hadn’t appeared, unheard of! The bib imp ran as fast as he could to The Master to explain why he hadn’t managed to gather a piece of the highly prized mesh cloth. They preferred the yellow but red was still nice. It was futile though. Deep down in his soul he knew his fate was sealed as he recalled what he’d seen before happen to other ones who had failed in the quest. The Master would command his own family, his dear friends. They would all encircle him with their rotting pointed teeth already clenched, saliva dripping from the tongues, thirsty for flesh. And then they’d bite. And rip. And tear. And chew. And gulp. And laugh maniacally as the blood-curdling victim’s scream rang out, the blood arcing from his pierced veins, splattering across their faces and then running down their bearded little chins onto their tongues. Licking, licking, always licking.
Ah, so that’s where the bibs disappear to. Bib imps, of course… silly me. I thought it was because we forgot to take them off or bring them back.
WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY!?! I’ve been away for three weeks and we’re down to a total of 11. We used to have 20.