This was a flash fiction piece I submitted to a contest earlier this year. The challenge of extreme short-form writing is that you must be maniacally clear, as quickly as possible, while keeping some degree of personality in the work. Mine didn’t win the contest, but I think it’s still a fun enough read to share.
GOAT OF ETERNITY
by Erik Yount, 2024
The fumaroles punctuating the path to the Demon Lake smelled especially pungent this morning, belching forth a most pleasant greenish mist. Breathing deeply, the Warlock cooled his frustration. All he needed was a positive attitude, and today would swell with bloated serendipity, like a giant gut-fly’s egg-sack ready to burst from a corpse. He hastened to the Pit of Sacrifice.
Countless dreadful and gruesome rituals had yielded no success in summoning the eminent Goat of Eternity. Today had to be the day he would find the answer.
Rounding a craggy pillar, he arrived at the Pit—a huge stone well glowing orange from within. Oddly, he found Secundus, his manservant, with a curious burden in his arms. The burden writhed, and from the cloth wrapping peeked the horned head of Thales—the goat. A normal goat. The Warlock’s favorite goat. And best friend. And only remnant of anything good left in this world—held aloft over the Pit of Sacrifice.
“Secundus, no!” shouted the Warlock.
But it was too late. Secundus threw Thales into the Pit. With a whoosh, the goat disappeared, and a low rumble echoed across the land.
The Warlock shrieked.
Startled, Secundus looked at the Warlock. He looked at the Pit. He looked at the Warlock again. “You... you wake early this morning, my lord!” he said.
The Warlock’s eyes burst into flame.
“Idiot!” he shouted. “Imbecile!” he cried. “Festering gangrenous scab of a servant!”
He twitched his fingers. Tangled roots shot forth from the ground, wrapping Secundus and dragging him over the Pit of Sacrifice.
“What foul Potion of Confusion did you drink?! Thales was not meant for raw materials! He was...—he was a good goat!”
Secundus gasped through the bindings. “A... lovely goat, sir (hack). Best of all goats... The only remnant of... (cough) anything good left in this world...”
Another finger twitched. The roots loosed themselves from Secundus’ limbs, until but one single thread kept him from sharing Thales’ fate.
“I should dip you in slowly,” the Warlock seethed.
The ground rumbled again. This caught the Warlock’s attention.
The Demon Lake bubbled and swirled, until a whirlpool formed at its center. An indecipherable mass of gigantic fins and coiling tentacles appeared from the waters, and up from the thrashing mass rose two enormous horns atop a head—a goat head. A giant goat head with red eyes and smoking nostrils.
The Goat of Eternity.
Calmly, slowly, the Warlock set Secundus back down safely upon the platform.
The Goat of Eternity bleated forth in a deep voice that shook the rocks.
“M-A-S-T-E-R-R-R...” it growled.
“Well...” said Secundus, “I once ‘eard it said, ‘If ye love something, let it go. If it was worth yer love, it’ll come back to ye. I figgered... maybe it were true?”
The Warlock looked at Secundus. He looked at the Goat. He looked at Secundus again. And both of them burst into uproarious laughter.