In childhood, at the YMCA summer camp there was a story they told the kids to stop them from sneaking out of the cabins back in the 80s. It was about a local cryptoid named the Chicken Lady.
She was a creature that haunted the camp and ate the kids who snuck out at night.
She was a jogger who was taking a short cut home at night, a short cut that required crossing the 4 lane highway running around town. In her rush to get home she ignored a wise man’s words “look both ways before crossing the street”
Her lapse in judgement resulted in her stepping in front of a semi truck carrying a load of chickens to slaughter. The moments following the entanglement of metal and flesh are the moments where the vail between dimensions opens and the unexplainable becomes reality.
The chicken blood ran down the asphalt and blended into the puddle of blood rapidly growing beneath the jogger. The energy seeping from the open vail allowed the fusion of DNA between the lady and the chickens; saving her life as the sheer volume of chicken blood allowed her lifeless body to slowly regain strength.
As the tow trucks showed up and pulled the truck off the woman, or once was a woman, the people on scene reported hearing a screech that echoed into their bones and in a flash a feathered fury dashed away from the wreckage and into the woods.
They never recovered the woman’s body.
For years following this incident, there was never a real report on what happened to the lady. An empty casket buried. A cross on the side of the road with faded fake flowers. And summer after summer the troubled kids always find a way to disappear at camp. Some say they got picked up by their parents in the middle of the night and went home. Others say they go to jail for sneaking out.
But those of us who were smart enough not to get caught knew we were one wrong step away from going a foul.
Becoming rotten egg.
A haunted hen.
Up next for slaughter for the Chicken Lady.