michael colbert

Our Monsieur

We began worshipping Monsieur when he started feeding people to the Leafy Sun Plant. The Leafy Sun Plant appeared three months ago. Then, it was only a sunburst bud. When we skittered past, it would dance its vines and smack its ochre lips. We liked going to provoke it, play with it, but then it started eating the flies. None of us cared too much until it moved onto the mice. The plant got bigger, and we had to pass by to get from the woods to the house. Its vines snaked through the grass and they’d drag in any of us who passed like we’d fallen in a hunting trap. And soon it wasn’t just the mice, but the chipmunks, the birds, squirrels, rabbits, gophers. When the foxes started disappearing, we knew it was time to take a stand.

That’s when Monsieur came in. You see, without him, we might have been wiped out of our briar patch. He was taking his daily gaze out the window when he noticed the Leafy Sun Plant jostle its vines and snap up Lenny, the stupid fox. Perplexed, Monsieur went down to the patch to investigate. Although the gophers reported that underground the plant swelled and bloated like a house, above ground it was only the size of a pumpkin so it couldn’t swallow Monsieur. It smiled and purred when he prodded it. It licked its thorny tongue up Monsieur’s leg. The birds swore it released some kind of spore to intoxicate him, but they’d been eating bad thistle since they had to find new feeding grounds. 

It started small. Monsieur got in a fight with one of his chefs about the pumpkin soup. Monsiuer went to apologize, to say, come see this new plant I’ve found. Chef stood at the edge of the patch, and the Leafy Sun Plant slithered its vines around his ankles. Monsieur gave him such a slight push, the slightest of pushes–at that point there was still plausible deniability–and then the Leafy Sun Plant dragged him into its mouth in one gulp. Chef was a large man, and Leafy Sun Plant grew bloated and distended for a few days. Then it adjusted and grew.

The other staff whispered in the kitchen and the hallways, but they didn’t have much to worry about. They all knew never to cross Monsieur. Monsieur is omnipotent and all knowing and infallible. He is our genius, our divine leader.

Besides, the Leafy Sun Plant had other bodies to feast on. When the soothsayer came to foretell a plague, Monsieur didn’t like the sound of that. The soothsayer was an easy one for Leafy Sun Plant to swallow after Chef. She was sinewy and lithe and hardly put up a fight because she believed this might be transcendence. 

People revolted when the plague ravaged the land. The insurgents came but could only find an entrance to the manor through the patch. By then, Leafy Sun Plant had grown these sticky vines. It swallowed a vineful of insurgents on the spot and then trapped the rest in a web of thorns and tentacular vines. Those days were grim. We had to listen to their cries, so the spiders wove webs over their mouths until Leafy Sun Plant could finish its work.

Things got hairy when Monsieur’s wife, Madame, butted in. She knew he’d started feeding Leafy Sun Plant his enemies, so she asked the gardeners to inspect, to find a way to weed it, but that didn’t go well for the gardeners. We could’ve told her that. She picked a fight with Monsieur and he brought her to the plant. She’d begun carrying knives in her garments so she slashed at its cheeks on her way down its gullet. Leafy Sun Plant gnashed and moaned. It sputtered this green, chlorophyllic blood, but its hide was already so thick it regrew within days. 

Now, the plant is the size of Monsieur’s carriage, which has nobody to drive it. 

Now, he feeds the surviving staff to Leafy Sun Plant one by one. 

Now, it’s been a while since the plant last ate. It’s grown these violet flowers that puff toxins at passing birds. The vines catch the bodies on their fall.

When we observe it from the edge of its domain, it bellows and cries. It folds the earth and we tumble into its mouth. Leafy Sun Plant swallows us so fast we’re still alive in its belly. It’s a cool chamber with sweet, sticky walls. As the others it has eaten fall asleep, the chamber’s membrane absorbs the bodies. There are these faces dimpling the chamber walls. The insurgents’ noses stick out, eyes closed. Madame dangles from the ceiling. We could see her knees at first, but now only her toes protrude.  

It must be lovely on land. We know Monsieur won’t leave us down here long. We know Monsieur will claim dominion over what is his.