Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2315932-Malachi
by Sumojo
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #2315932
An evil leprechaun causes mayhem
Words 666
Malachi crept from his forest home into the darkness, this was the time he relished, when he alone walked the woods. Malevolence seeped from the very pores of his green-tinged skin. Thin, frog-like fingers hung from below the too-long sleeves of his dark green jacket.

He darted and pranced between the ancient trees, laughing maniacally as some perverted thought generated in his sick mind. Lifting his pointed chin up to the cloud covered, moonless sky, a flash of lightning captured a gleam of sharp pointed teeth for a split second.

Moving with silent grace through the woods he eventually reached a clearing where the terrain began to gently incline. Ascending to the summit of the highest hill he settled cross-legged upon a smooth stone, from this vantage point, he surveyed the lights of the village nestled below

He despised the humans. Especially their faith in the fairy folk, naive enough to believe they would bring luck and protect them and their families from harm. Those simple minded inhabitants of the village caused him intense irritation, similar to an itch but more intense, an itch that must be scratched. He didn’t think so far as to rationalise his feelings, bordering on hatred, as they grew stronger by the day.

One night he lay in his bed, tapping his long fingers on his skinny chest. He was restless. Restlessness was a dangerous state of mind for Malachi, it gave him time to think thoughts he usually managed to suppress. He was well aware that if he ever carried out his desires, to go down from the hill one night to the village he’d never be able to control himself until…

Saint Patrick’s Day was on everyone’s lips. There was to be a dance in the village hall and a competition for the finest four-leafed clover. The challenge had urged the young folk to go foraging in the woods, all competing for the one hundred dollars prize.

Malachi was more than irritated by the disturbance in the woods. He paced in his underground bunker, muttering to himself and cursing. “If they discover my abode all hell will be let loose,” He was keenly aware of their heavy, thundering footsteps, feeling the vibrations as they dislodged dirt, sending it cascading onto his head. Nearby, the humans enjoyed their picnics amid laughter and chatter, while their exuberant, noisy children hunted for elusive four-leaf clovers

Malachi paced for hours, his anxiety in danger of getting the better of him. He was almost sure no one would discover his underground dwelling and yet those humans were nearby searching, and who knew what they may discover? It was at that moment he sensed someone was very close. He glanced anxiously toward the hidden entrance to his shelter, a small doorway painted green, set into the hillside.
Did he imagine he saw an eye peering in through his keyhole? Perhaps, but the leprechaun’s anger knew no bounds. He was incensed by even the thought his secret abode could be discovered and humans from the village would come and destroy his home.

That night the moon hung low in the sky casting an eerie glow. The villagers slumbered in their beds unaware of the fate that awaited them. The first to fall victim to Malachi’s machete was a sheep farmer, slayed in the fields. He’d been called from his bed by the cries of distress from a young ewe struggling to give birth. When the old man’s body was later discovered, it was his blood which covered the newborn lamb.

As the night wore on others suffered the same fate, Malachi, a sinister grin upon his gnarled face, showed no mercy and young and old alike fell victim to his fury. He prowled the village for hours searching for more victims, his crazed laughter echoed through the streets until finally when the first signs of dawn tinged the sky, he returned home. He threw down his bloodied weapon and slept until the veil of darkness descended.

In traditional Irish legend, the Leprechaun was a shoe-maker, dressed in green and red. Pots of gold at the end of a rainbow were later additions to the legend.
In this story, make the Leprechaun evil!
WORD COUNT: exactly 666 words

© Copyright 2024 Sumojo (sumojo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2315932-Malachi