Evil Leprechaun's Feast

The air hung heavy with the smell of decay, damp earth mingling with the scent of withered leaves. It was a distinct contrast to the cheerful birdsong, a dissonance that mirrored the dread and excitement fighting for dominance in Niall's heart. His fingers trembled as they traced the uneven lines of a shamrock carved into the old hawthorn's twisted bark. He'd found it.

He knelt, the damp earth chilling him through his trousers, and pressed a hesitant hand against the moss-covered wood. A thrill shot through him, a mix of fear and a fascination he couldn't deny. This was it, the stuff of whispered legends, the secret challenge of the village elders – a test of courage most were too afraid to even consider.

The earth beneath his hand seemed to pulse, a slow, steady beat like an ancient, rotted heart. A crackle, a snap, and a hole yawned open in the tree's base.

He should've run. But Niall, young and headstrong, was drawn into the shadows.

It couldn't accurately be called a burrow; it resembled a tear in reality itself, the darkness swirling within like a bottomless pool. Yet, there's something undeniably compelling about those depths.

His father's voice, normally stout and reassuring, echoed thinly in his head: Those that dwell below ain't nothin' like the stories, lad. They ain't after yer gold, they're after somethin' far bigger.

The stink of old copper and rot wafted up, gagging him. He should've listened, but the damage was done. The Leprechaun would know he was here.

A low chuckle reverberated from the darkness. Niall froze.

"Come now, boy. Don't be leaving an old man waiting." The voice rasped, each word like shards of glass upon his eardrums.

Out of the hole clambered the creature. It wore the garb of legend – the tiny coat, the buckled shoes – but gone was any hint of whimsy. This Leprechaun was wizened, skin like cracked leather pulled taut over sharp bones. The eyes, though, those were the worst. Twin pits of swirling blackness, seeming to consume the very light around them.

"Well? What is it you seek?" the Leprechaun hissed, a yellowed tooth glinting in the dim light. "Coin? A wish, perhaps?"

Niall, transfixed by the sheer wrongness of the creature, managed to stammer, "M-my sister. She's ill. Can you... can you help?"

The Leprechaun tilted its head, a birdlike motion that sent shivers down Niall's spine. "Of course, boy. All things have their price."

"Anything," Niall blurted out. His sister's pale face, her rasping breaths, swam before his eyes.

A twisted smile split the creature's face. "Your story, then. All of it. Joy, heartbreak, fear and rage – those are flavors we savor." It extended a gnarled hand, the nails long and curving like talons. "Let me taste, child, and your wish may yet be granted."

Hope and terror warred within Niall. Legends painted Leprechauns as tricksters, but never like this…a devourer of souls. Yet, what choice did he have?

With shaking fingers, he touched the Leprechaun's outstretched hand.

The world turned inside out. There was no pain, just a sudden, suffocating emptiness. His memories, his very sense of self, were leached from him like water through a sieve. When it was over, the Leprechaun cackled, that terrible, broken sound echoing through the hollowed-out space deep within him.

Weeks later, Niall stumbled back into the village, gaunt and vacant-eyed. His sister lived, rosy-cheeked and healthy once more. But he was something else entirely. A shell, merely going through the motions of existence.

There was no pot of gold, no grand deception. The villagers whispered 'changeling' and avoided his gaze, pity and fear mingling on their faces.

His father wept then, realizing the true horror. The Leprechaun wasn't after coin or even wishes. It craved the essence of being, the light of the spirit. Niall had traded his very soul for his sister's life. In the end, the most monstrous trick was not of the Leprechaun's making, but his own.

WORD COUNT: 666 Words
WRITTEN FOR: "Horror Writing Contest" 
PROMPT: A LEPRECHAUN
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!