Carnosaur

Fowl Play

A group of men all sat around a table. They were in the middle of an important meeting about the ethics of genetic cloning. James Elliot, was one of these men, and he needed to protect his assets.

"Just think gentlemen, about how much we could do with this power. The diseases he can cure. The problems we can solve,"

"Interesting point James, but think about the possible damage too. What if it fell into the wrong hands?"

"Trust me, I have the best geneticist science could ask for,"

"Who is your Chief Geneticist?"

"Tessa Elliot,"

"Tessa? You sure she's trustworthy?"

"Of course she is, she solved that locust problem in Guatamala,"

The conversation was interrupted by his wife, Louisa. She was the Co-CEO, but she preferred to stay behind the scenes, as she didn't have the best social skills. Her appearance must mean something important.

She whispered in James' ear, and soon after, he got up and left the table with her. When he came back a few minutes later, he made a call.

He picked up the phone, and dialed a number. He was mostly quiet over the phone, as he didn't want any leaning in on his conversation. He didn't want it to get out.

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Chris and Swag entered the chicken coop, It was their job to move the chickens to the truck for transport. As they entered the coop, a loud shriek was heard, followed by a splat.

Chris walked down the row of chickens to get to the one that had made the commotion. Chris peered into the cage and saw the remains of the bird. It had erupted from within, bones and blood had been flung around the cage.

The rupture had been caused by a large egg being laid. The egg was about the same size as the chicken itself. The egg then began to move and crack. Chris leaned in closer, to get a better look at the creature inside, only for it to shoot its claw out at breakneck speeds, slashing at Chris's face.

He turned to the camera that was facing the row of cages, and began yelling into it. "What the hell is that supposed to be!?"

"Just load it onto the truck," was the reply he got.

The reply came from Tessa, who was watching the process through a video monitor. She continued to watch, until her assistant, Cyn, appeared on one of her monitors.

"What is it, Cyn?"

"Liam is on the phone for you,"

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Chris and Swag had just finished loading the chickens up. As they shut the door to the back of the trailer, the night watchmen for the chicken coop, Bob, approached.

"I've never seen a group of chickens so scared before. What's got them so spooked?" Bob asked, turning to the two loaders.

"They probably know where they're going," Swag remarked.

The truck driver, Ronathon, walked over. He hopped up in the cab, and pretty soon, he peeled off to make us delivery

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Ron stood at his post at the border of town. He was the one meant to check people going in and out. Currently, he was on the phone with his boss, Liam.

"I know it can affect business, but Tessa says it's best not to risk it. I don't want anyone going in or out," Liam instructed. Ron replied with a "Yes sir" and hung up the phone.

Ronathon pulled his truck up to the post. He quickly turned to the guard and handed him his transport papers.

"I'm sorry Ronathon, but the boss just called. He said no one goes in or out," Ron informed.

"Oh come on, man! I gotta get these cluckers over to Fort Rogers, and I'm already three hours late!"

After hearing the trucker's pleas, Ron looked around to see if anyone was watching, then he opened the gate to let him through.

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Ronathon had been driving for about an hour now. He was quickly growing tired, but he kept trucking.

In the back, the chickens were getting startled. They began shrieking and loudly clucking in terror. Something was in there with them.

Ronathon heard the commotion and song pulled over. He got out of the cab and walked to the back. He slid open the gate to the shipment of poultry in his truck. Quicker than he could process, a small, chicken sized, reptilian shot out from the back.

It pounced on Ronathon, causing him to fall to the ground. The small creature tore into him, ripping crimson-colored flesh from his chest. Ronathon was powerless to do anything except scream into the night.