The KFC Cult

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The local KFC was bad and gross. This did not stop hooded figures from gathering in the parking lot on school holidays to scare people out of their food and get free chicken. 

They'd been there since the KFC was decent and they weren't going to give up now. 

They aren't really a cult, but they spook the customers. They were a group of bored teens who quickly backed off the minute the actual resident cult reached out to them—the Orchestra.

The Orchestra were in the woods and rather disconnected from the outside world. They were looking for a like-minded group to feed them new recruits.

The KFC squad was merely a parking lot hangout club. The oldest member, Clark, recently graduated and started the conversation about the club's future, much like the uncertain future of their KFC...

Then she found the amalgamation. Without a doubt she was staying in that tunnel under the parking lot and learning from it. 

At 9:30 PM an employee would lug a sack of unused meat and chicken bones through the tunnel and throw it off the ledge. Clark watched them, too.

She picked up a glob of raw meat cast aside on the path, approaching the ledge in her own time and catching the thing's eye. Its bumpy slug-like tongue snaked around her arm as it took the meat from her. It looked like a cocoon of human and animal skin. 

Clark told the others. Surely The Orchestra was nothing more than a washed-up singer and their entourage if they weren't speaking with such a beautiful true thing. 

Clark never went home again. She told her dad she'd been killed and was too busy to visit. 

Matt was her second in command. Organising more frequent meetups above ground at the parking lot. Clark took those who were ready underground to gaze upon their new god, much like the KFC employee. 

They didn't know how lucky they were, up there in their chicken hut. One day, Clark and her followers would replace them, but for now, they had to hide in the caves at feeding time.

Ever since there were hooded figures in the parking lot, the KFC had permitted each worker one weapon. 

Clark used the threat of getting stabbed to form stronger bonds with her friends. Their closeness drew The Orchestra's attention for a second time. A second, more offensive letter.

They were still asking to collaborate, but it was an insult after meeting something far superior to whatever they were teaching. 

Clark thought she'd finally write back with her own offer - a true purpose. It would be hand-delivered.

Matt was left in charge. Clark had never left town but walked into the forest until the sky turned dark and the owls started clicking and beeping. 

She walked towards the sound of a cello. 

It made her question her footing and her grip on the note. She threw off her hood as she entered the candlelight of the gathered musicians. They began to play as a small blonde person sat before the conductor, looking up at her while their ears bled from fresh stitches. 

A wooden snapping sound far louder than any twig could make echoed through the trees and every instrument dropped at once. The crowd's eyes scanned their surroundings. 

Clark sprinted back into the woods.

She could've sworn the woods were looking back with glowing red eyes.

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