S9E10 - “Stolen Sacrifices" - Horror Hill

**Erik Peabody** (0:03)
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**SPEAKER_2** (0:47)
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**Erik Peabody** (2:19)
Disclaimer. Horror Hill is a horror anthology podcast, bringing you scary stories from all corners of the internet and beyond. As such, certain stories include content that some listeners might find offensive. In particular, tonight's story revolves around themes of suicide and includes descriptions of violence against children. If you or someone you know is considering suicide, I strongly encourage you to reach out to the Crisis Lifeline, accessible by dialing 988 on your phone. Listener discretion is advised.
Good evening, listeners, and welcome back to Horror Hill. I'm Erik Peabody, and I'm going to be minimizing my usual horror host persona a bit, because tonight's tale requires a more serious introduction.
This evening, we're going to be reading the story, I Should Have Been a Pair of Ragged Claws, by JR Hamantaschen. As you heard earlier in the disclaimer, this story is centered around a suicide. While that in itself is something that I know can be very impactful to listeners, there is also a great deal of time spent inside the mind of that character, as well as those close to him, both before and after the event. This is an extremely personal look at this subject, but it doesn't solely focus on desperation and delves into themes of cruelty and selfishness that can be involved with suicide and the effect that it has on others. All of that being said, I personally feel that this is an incredibly well-written tale and, in some ways, is one of the most horrific stories that I've presented to you during my time hosting Horror Hill. If this content is something that you feel you can stomach, I invite you to join me as we enter this very real nightmare.
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And now, from author JR Hamantaschen, I present, I Should Have Been a Pair of Ragged Claws.
Evelyn knew that her son Jerry always liked birds. They were his first fixation. Every parent remembers each of their child's first fixations. So at a young age, he would prattle on, almost mechanically, about the capacity of a crow to remember a human face, how ravens could mimic human speech, how owls ate their prey whole. He hadn't used such sophisticated language, of course. The precise way he expressed his love for the creatures was lost to time.
When he turned 12, she bought him a parakeet, or a budgie, as Jerry insisted they were properly called in their native Australia. How smart he was, so said the teenage girl behind the counter. Of course, they had to buy a parakeet for Andrea, their nine-year-old daughter, because fair is fair, and pledged to get one for Kyle, then six, when he got old enough to take care of it, an offer he never redeemed.
Was Jerry happy with the blue and green budgie that his parents, after some resistance, allowed him to name Bruno? Hard to tell. Maybe, for a bit. He admired Bruno, enjoyed taking him out to fly around the bathroom, giving him food sticks, and watching the bird peck. When Andrea was going to have her bird fly around the bathroom, that's when Jerry needed to let Bruno out too. And he liked to play Bruno's bodyguard, saying, hey, hey, hey, and separating Bruno with an oven mitt if Bruno and Andrea's bird, a bright yellow thing she named Oscar, nipped at each other. Jerry seemed most engaged when the opportunity came to intervene. But Bruno would peck at Jerry sometimes, and Jerry reciprocated with an ignition, letting the bird go too long without food or water or cage cleaning to the point that he became the family bird until Jerry promised his mother he'd be more responsible. Jerry, from then on, fulfilled his obligations dutifully by all appearances, although the frequency with which he'd take the bird out lessened each year. How do you account for why Jerry remained so abstractly interested in birds and less so with a real article? As if he had been found out in something, he expressed his interest in birds less and less, although the same could be said, as he got older, about all topics.