Freaky

There was a battle most fierce at the Palace the other night. Daddy yelled and a child pleaded. Daddy screamed and a girl whimpered. Daddy caused someone or something--pain. Terrible pain, the animal screamed for help. The little girl cried and begged, and Mean Queen prayed to Daddy for mercy.

It was most awful and our cottage had to be shuttered, the animals watched, the air inspected, the voices silenced. Ghosts swam by in the cool night air that held Daddy's frightful words drowning the cries of an animal and a little girl.  And I thought, I might ask Hag if she knew of anything to dispense such a mean person. Hags love to talk of those that crossed them but now, are no longer heard from. But hags tend to steer clear of telling you how to rid of those most foul. No, I needed to talk to the wee folk instead.

The Palace is being made ready for a celebration. A tent is being erected with an open ceiling. What will they celebrate? The pain of an animal? pleas for mercy falling on stone from children? Or a god of vengeance? A god full of history of punishing cruelty? It must be a terrible god they worship. One that looks on suffering as a noble sacrifice.

I left food for the wee folk and good drink. I encouraged them to stay in the garden to make our little wonder a safe haven once again. They worked all night casting spells, singing enchantments and by the time the first rays of light fell, harmony crept back to the garden. The Palace and those poor creatures behinds its walls
--silent. 

Daddy most cruel, wielder of fear. His god a vengeful god who needs suffering to verify its existence.  Daddy is to be feared  and worse--hated.