Kill the Cows


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The scent of death clung to the two men, covering them like a blanket woven from blood and decay. Clinging to the rotting corpses, flies warped into large, treacherous vultures. The entire barn was a feast, and the scavengers ravaged the bodies, swarming them so they were wrapped in Death's black cloak. 
    "I don't understand," the taller of the two said, taking another step into the banquet of death. "Police don't investigate the death of cows, even if dozens have been slaughtered."
    Squinting at the dead cattle scattered in front of him with eyes the colour of ice, the shortest man kept his voice as low as possible, as if he was afraid of disrupting the scene before him with the volume of his words. "I'm not the police."
    "Then who are you?" The farmer scraped his eyes off of the dead cows, picking them up and directing their view towards the ice-cold man in the blue tie.
    "An investigator." The investigator's shoes were silent as they carried him out of the barn; air, untouched by the bitterness of death, hit him like a punch to the stomach, but the small man didn't flinch. 

 

    "I don't believe," her voice rung out, a terrifying blend of controlled power and a scorching wildness, "that i would pay you, a respected investigator, good money, and you come to me with this."
    "I have been to hundreds of farms all over the world, and that's the only possibility I can find." Pale, freezing hands gripped onto the edge of the large oak table. Dozens of eyes were fixated on him. "It's murder. All of the cows had a slit throat."
    Flames of anger burned out all around the woman, crisping the wooden table. "And what are you implying by that, as I, among everyone at this table, want you stop implying, to stop wasting precious time and get to the point before you start to regret it."
    "The only way those cows could have been killed is at the hand of a human."
    Before the flames of the woman's words had time to be lit, a giant of a creature burst into the room, standing right beside the woman forged from fire. "The man is right," the bovine confirmed, its bellowing voice overpowering the mutterings of shock shooting through the room at the speed of a bullet. "My kind have been slaughtered by yours for many a millennia, but never like this." Its voice rang with pure anger forged from the hand of a higher force. "There are less than two hundred of us left in the world. Extinction hangs over us like the blade of the executioner."
    "Why? I don't understand. I don't understand any of this." Frantic was one of the few words that could describe the woman's voice and the flames surrounding her small figure. 
    "You, your pitiful people, blame us for the current state of the environment. You blame our production of methane on your mistakes," it answered. "Killing us, as usual, is a way of solving your issues."
    Eyes rested upon eyes, and a solemn nod passed throughout the room. "We do what we must do," said one of the voices around the table. A sudden chorus, a sinister chant, burst through the room.
    Kill the cows.
    "I hoped it wouldn't come to this." Mighty and large, even in the sea of faces filled with an expression of bloodlust, the cow charged forward, stomping a fire to ash. A stampede of cows followed in its wake, turning each human body into a lifeless pile of shredded muscle and shattered bone.

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