"Looks like you got nowhere to run, boys," Thomas smirks slowly, and he and his men approach Soren and his brothers, pushing them back further into the musty, dark barn, step by timid step. "But don't you worry your pretty little heads about it; we'll make your death nice and quick."
Soren stumbles backward on a bale of hay as Thomas advances forward, the edge of the massive knife in his hand glinting in the moonlight. They were going to die here, and the worst thing about it was that there wouldn't be one feather left behind after the feast. Their parents wouldn't even know where to begin to look for them.
"This is all your fault! You bedazzled fucking turkey!" Quince grabs Rocky and shouts in his face, "I literally suffered through three hours of listening to you play High School Musical, and now you're telling me that I'm about to get eaten by a fuck-ton of Amish cannibals in a barn!?"
"Well," Rocky says, rolling his eyes thoughtfully and pressing a finger to his lips. "It could be worse."
"What could be worse than being eaten by Amish cannibals!?" Quince screeches.
It couldn't end like this. They still had so much to live for and Lydia's court case to show up to so that they could finally get justice and closure like they deserved. Asa needed them there at his future graduation—or his future wedding. Rocky would never be able to live his dreams and go to college if he died and ended up sliced up and put into someone's lunch.
Soren had to think, and he had to think fast.
Rocky's phone goes off in his pocket as they're about to be murdered and plays a familiar little jingle. "Shit! Kevin Bacon, eat your heart out! This is the worst time to call me right now!" The owl man complains right before a knife goes sailing past his head and hits the wooden board directly behind him with a wobble.
"Footloose!" Soren shouts suddenly, and everyone turns to look at him.
"Oh, that's fucking wonderful. We're yelling weird, obscure phrases at each other now?" Quince says, squinting over at him. "Recedeeing hairline! Nicolas Cage in City of Angels! See? I can do it, too."
"Footloose, Rocky! Remember the musical you practiced for in fifth grade?" Soren shouts over at him, "You made me practice with you for almost two weeks! Why don't we give these guys a show?"
Rocky's handsome face lights up with realization, and he gives a quick nod before stepping forward in front of them all, much to the Amish's dismay as they were now practically breathing down their necks and ready to go in for the kill. "You can't do this to us!" Rocky wails, "We're just a bunch of kids who want to dance! Hit it, Jed!"
"What in God's name?" Thomas murmurs.
Jed plugs in the nearby speaker, and catchy music begins to fill the barn. Rocky starts dancing in an attempt to save their lives, and all of a sudden, it is as if Kevin Bacon's ghost is standing right there, nodding his head in agreement. It was a bit ridiculous, a bit nobel, but he couldn't do it alone, so Soren quickly jumps into the fray and begins to gyrate next to Rocky.
"Oh, hell no!" Quince growls, "You dumb cluckers are not about to drag me into this moronic mess!"
Soren grabs his little brother by the front of his shirt and yanks him into the dance with a yelp.
With shock on their faces, Thomas and the other Amish are clueless about how to respond or what to do as the three boys dance for their lives. The trio shuffles back and forth in unison, shaking their hips and clicking their metaphorical boots together. At one point, Rocky even does the splits in the middle of the floor.
"Fuck yeah!" Quince screams at the Amish as he dances across the barn and points a finger at Thomas and his guys. "How do you like that?"
Someone flings an axe and it cuts across the room before hitting Jed directly in the chest. In an instant, he goes down like a tree falling in the forest, and the music cuts off with a sharp screech.
Soren jerks to a halt, and Rocky grabs onto his arm, both of them gasping.
"Now, boys, it's your choice—we are going to do this the easy way or the hard way!" Thomas growls, "I guess it doesn't matter much, though; you're all going to end up on our table either way, cause I sure as helll got a craving for roasted owl tonight!"
"Screee!"
Soren looks up sharply when there's a scream from the rafters and looks up just in time to see a dark shadow come swooping down, claws extended as the creature dives right at Thomas. In seconds, the owl descends on his face, tearing into the meat on his bones with a wild scream while he howls in agony and brings both hands up to try to fight off the raptor.
She had brown speckles like Rocky and ear tufts, just like Rocky. Her eyes, which were slanted in fury, were bright yellow, like egg-yolks. It was hard to tell who she was, but an owl like that didn't just go around attacking humans for no reason.
"Momma?" Rocky whispers softly, his eyes rounding.
Thomas tears the owl off his face and whirls around to face them, one eyeball hanging from its socket, connected by a mere red string. Lightning crackles above and thunder booms, then the Amish are charging the Moon brothers, pitchforks and axes raised high above their heads.
"Run!" Soren screams at Rocky, and he grabs Rocky by the arm and hauls his glittery ass towards the doorway. "Just fucking run and don't look back, Rocky! Get to the car!"
They leave the barn that night, running and falling over each other as they crash down the field towards their tiny car in the distance, a mob of Amish men pursuing them across the farm while the faint soundtrack to Footloose plays in the distance.
Soren was unsure whether Rocky would ever learn the truth about what really happened to his mother or get the answers he sought.
Who the hell was going to believe him?
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