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It comes with feathers */f

echolocation34

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I was watching the new horror movies on Netflix for Halloween and decided to write a scary tickle story for the heck of it. Not sure how tickling blends with horror but at least it was fun.



“Yeah...I know, I’m looking at it right now.” Curled up on her couch at night, sipping a glass of much needed red wine beneath a blanket, Lily felt hardly in the right mood to be checking up on Conor O’Mally’s murder. The young architect and her highschool sweetheart had been found in his apartment, dead with no signs of violence besides a giant laugh locked in his lips. Grimacing, Lily scrolled through the endless comments making fun of the situation, only peppered with genuine mourning.

“These are awful,” she sighed.

“Yeah I know.” The typically cheerful Diane sounded exhausted. “I added Stacie as an admin too, hope you don’t mind. We’ve been deleting trolls whenever we can but it’s hard.”

Pausing, Lily frowned.

One such comment said: “It comes with feathers.” The user had no profile picture, just the default.

“Lily?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem.” She clicked on the comment and deleted it.

“Thanks. And thanks again for setting this memorial page up, dear. I know how difficult it’s been.”

‘If you give me a second of your therapist crap,’ Lily thought, closing her eyes. ‘I am going to throw my phone off my balcony.’ Instead, she muttered a strangled “No problem” and put the glass to her lips once more.

Outside, lightning illuminated the gray landscape of New York with intermittent flashes. The clouds above looked monstrous, dwarfing the thin skyscrapers and buildings. Once the view from her loft would have inspired Lily to whip out her writing pad in macabre joy but tonight she stood up, padded to the window and threw the curtains back down, cutting her loft in sudden darkness. The flecks of rain peppered her bare feet. She could feel the wind bullying the curtains, fighting her hands. With difficulty, the red haired girl fastened them into position.

It comes with feathers.

Why had someone written that? Shivering, Lily retrieved her wine, poured herself another glass. It was the kind of meaningless drabble a third grader would come up with and yet someone had felt the need to make a fake account and post it in her memorial page. Lily sighed, powering up her laptop once more.

She blinked.

A pale feather the size of her pinkie rested on the couch. She picked it up, frowning. Faint whispers of wind tugged at its delicate frame. Heart suddenly racing, she ran to her disposal bin, stepped on its lip, and tossed the feather inside.

It comes...A wave of chills racked up her spine...with feathers.

And she saw the reflection on her fridge.

“No no no no…” Lily whispered. She turned around and saw it, tall and batlike, silhouetted behind her closed curtains. At the base of the curtains, slick with rain, dozens of identical white feathers cascaded down as the creature shifted its weight.

Lily screamed. She ran to her bedroom in a silent barefoot sprint. Behind her, the rasp of silk as the curtains flew open, the cold rain pouring in, it stepped forth, a hooked shadow.

Lily locked her bedroom door and crawled under the bed. Heart pounding, the red haired girl began dialing 911. Slowly, that rectangle of blue light displayed the call sign.

“Hello, 911. What’s your emergency?”

“Help! Something is chasing after me!"

"Can you please clarify?"

"It has feath-Ahahahaha!”

Something had wrapped itself around her ankle and had begun stroking feathers across the bottom of her bare foot. Lily kicked and flailed with futility, fighting to get the words out of her mouth.

“Excuse me ma’am? What is the problem?”

“He-AHAHAl-help! Hahahahaha!” Lily squirmed in the tight space as the feathers continued to slide up and down her sole. A second tendril caught her other ankle, yanking it out as well. New feathers attacked her second foot, these ones stiffer, sawing instead of stroking. The red haired girl buried her face into the carpet, trying to muffle her laughter.

“Ma’am?”

It had her toes now, pushing them apart and twirling soft feathers in between them. Lily flexed her feet, desperately trying to close her digits to no avail. She shrieked into the carpet instead, rattling the bed as she punched the underside.

“Hahahaha! No-noooo!” Realizing what it was trying to do, she grabbed onto her bed frame for her dear life just as it began to pull her by the ankles. “Please!” Lily begged. “St-stop it hahaha!”

But instead, the red haired girl felt something cold and wet touch her bare ankle. The tendril slid into her pajamas, sliding around her calf and teasing the horribly sensitive inside of her thigh. Lily bit her bottom lip as an explosion of giggles threatened to break free. Then a second and third tendril joined the first, slipping into her pajamas, infiltrating both legs, and the giggles burst from her lips in a girly high pitched wave.

“No ahahaha not there ahahahaha!”

With its tendrils occupied, the monster had replaced the grip at her ankles with what felt like long bony hands. Now, as the first tentacle crested her bare stomach, she felt it stroke its index fingers up and down the center of her soles, from her toes down to her heels. This sudden new tickling sensation turned Lily’s giggles into full belly laughter, drowning her feeble protests.

“Cootchie cootchie coo,” it rasped. “Cootchie cootchie coooooo…”

The tendrils now all rose from out of the waistline of her pajamas, digging into her flat bare stomach and armpits. Her T-shirt offered little support and Lily screamed in laughter, arching her back.

It began tickling her feet faster, scratching her pale arches with four fingers. Lily felt her grip loosen and, in a split second, it yanked her from under the bed.

“Help!” Lily gasped, chest heaving. “Please merc-”

Her plea was cut short as she first caught a glimpse of her tormentor. It was tall and skinny, head brushing the ceiling, with sickly albino skin stretched taut over knobby bones. Two seething orbs of red stared down at her amidst that sea of white. And from waist down, it had what resembled a ballerina tutu made of white feathers and white tendrils.

“Ahhh!” It lifted her upside down, legs spread far apart. Her T-shirt flew over her head, and the cold wind kissed her bare navel and breasts. Feeling more vulnerable than ever, Lily tried to shake her unkempt red hair from covering her face. “Heeelp!”

Hands and feathers and tendrils tickled her whole body, drilling into her armpits and stomach, her knees and thighs, her neck and back, and the upturned soles of her feet. Lily’s stomach ached with laughter. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she thrashed her dangling body like a carp.

“NO Hahahahaha!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. It had secured each of her toes, pulling them backwards to stretch out her feet, each tendon and pad helpless and immobile. Then the fingers and feathers explored every inch and crevice of her foot, scrolling and scratching. Just when Lily thought it couldn’t get any worse, she felt something hot and rough and slick slide across the sole of her foot. Her eyes snapped open. “NOOOHAHAHA!” It was licking her feet, lapping with quiet intensity as it slurped between her toes and across her arch.

‘This is it,’ Lily thought dizzily. ‘This is how it ends.’ How many dumb memes would they post on her own memorial page?

A blast broke her reverie.

The monster stumbled forward, her torture suddenly paused. As it turned around, Lily was shocked to see Diane pump another round out of her shotgun. The second blast hit the monster in the chest and it shrieked, dropping Lily in a bed of feathers.

“Run!” The red haired girl yelled.

Blast after blast, the monster jerked back. Its face unfolded and a tunnel of teeth screamed. Then, as Diane’s shotgun clicked dry, she ducked down, and Stacie was behind her, a second gun in her hands. The petite dark haired girl grimaced as she worked the rounds into the monster.

When Lily came to, she was on her couch, swaddled in blankets. Diane and Stacie both stood over her, looking terrified.
Apart from the shattered glass, spilled wine, and pouring rain, her loft was empty.

“W-what the hell was that?” Lily asked, shaking.

“We don’t know,” replied Diane, face pale. “But we saw these new comments all over Conor’s facebook page.”

“Mostly stuff about feathers,” said Stacie. “But they also kept saying its next target would be Conor’s closest friend.” She shook her head. “We decided to take it seriously but to think…”

All three of them looked up at the stormy New York sky.

“It’ll be back,” said Lily, shaking. “It’ll be back.”
 
Thank you! Ive always wanted to do a spoof of a serial killer finding each victim and tickling them in a different situation instead of killing them so there might be a part 2 for sure
 
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