Tonight's contest is not for children. It's from a time, a place, best not spoken of. Like Sadie herself.
The adults stare at their names carved into the tree, the marks ragged and hungry, made not by blade but bone. Sadie grins. Her voice creaks as she counts off thirteen, one for each finger.
The players run, hide while the woods whisper, disturbed.
Sadie's black wings unfurl, slashing the dark. The hump of her spine splits open, birthing teeth, tongue.
The survivors will stumble home, shaking, weeping. The rest will have only their bones sent back.
Picked clean, of course.
Author bio: Madeline Mora-Summonte is a writer, a reader, a beach-comber and a tortoise-owner. She is the author of the flash fiction collections, The People We Used to Be and Garden of Lost Souls.
Game is part of 101 Fiction issue 13.