Ash

Chapter 4

Hello my darlings, I appreciate the feedback I've gotten so far, I hope you enjoy.  Also enjoy George Salazar and "Michael in the Bathroom" from Be More Chill.  (I may be on a George Salazar kick and it may be influencing my writing but more to come with that)
Enjoy my lovelies!!!

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Ash groaned as his rooster disrupted his all too brief sleep. Everything hurt. He couldn't remember ever receiving such a beating. He remembered the pure terror when he'd returned home and saw his step-mother flanked by his step-brothers waiting for him. They never waited for him.

He'd known instantly the gravity of the situation. She'd whipped and beat him within inches of his very life. She'd accused him of putting Blythe in harm's way. His back was a shredded bloody mess and he was fairly certain a few of his ribs had been broken. His step-mother usually took great care not to damage his face or hands for fear of appearances or losing his ability to work. This time he had two black eyes, a broken nose, and a split lip. Ash's body protested the simple act of breathing let alone movement. He cried out as he forced his body up and his barely scabbed wounds cracked and bled. Ash shuddered from the pain. Part of him wanted to scream and cry from pain, but the rest of him knew that would only cause more to come. Ash's hands shook as he pulled on a clean shirt. The itchy fabric stung as it rubbed the open wounds, but if he got an infection, that would be worse. With great care Ash made his way down the ladder of the horse's stables. They whinnied and nickered at him as he made his way out.

"I'm sorry. I have to come back. I have to feed that lot first." Ash grimaced. They watched in confusion. Ash always fed them first. They knew he was injured, but they didn't understand why he was leaving without their usual morning care.

Ash knew he'd be slow. He had to feed his step-family first or risk another beating. He didn't know if he'd survive another one.

Ash couldn't stifle the cry as he set the stool beside the cows. He had to take time to soothe the cows before he could milk them. The entire time his body screamed in protest and Ash could barely breathe for the pain. Once the cows were out to pasture he went to the chicken coop.

He froze when he saw the blood. By the stars above, could his luck get any worse? It was too quiet. He checked the coop and let out the breath he was holding. There were still a few left. There were eight of his twenty-four huddled together terrified, but still alive. Ash went to inspect the poor hens. They seemed alright, but he wasn't taking any eggs. That was certain. He was exhausted at just the thought of raising chicks. He'd have to inspect the hen house and the fencing then he remembered the paw prints he hadn't tracked to their source. Ash could have kicked himself if he didn't think it might kill him. There was something out there alright, and that something had killed sixteen of his chickens. With a heavy heart Ash fed his remaining chickens.

He did what he could with what he had. He didn't have the strength to churn fresh butter, but he'd scooped the fresh cream. He was plating Amos's breakfast when he came downstairs.

"Why isn't this already finished?" Amos demanded.

Ash didn't make eye contact, instead focusing on completing Hudson's breakfast.

"I asked you a question, unless you're deaf now too." Amos sneered.

"I'm running a little behind." Ash offered quietly, his eyes cast low.

"Where are my eggs?"

"Something got into the hen house last night. We lost most of the chickens. We need to raise more chicks before we can have eggs again."

Ash was afraid to turn around. He could feel Amos's anger from across the room even with his back to him. "How could you be so stupid as to let something in the hen house!" Amos roared and Ash flinched. The reaction pleased Amos. If Ash was afraid of him for any reason, that was a victory in his book. "I don't even understand why we keep you around. Mother will hear about this."