This latest Bone was by far the noisiest on Bira’s rosary. Even the other bones had woken from their silence to complain about it. If it didn’t shut up soon, she’d miss her chance at spilling the blood that would satisfy it.

“This night air is too damp,” it whined. “There’s bound to be mosquitoes. Put me back in your pocket.”

“I’ve explained this before. I need to hold you in my hand and see you so I’ll know when I’m close to your killer.”

The Bone Turned chilly and blue when Bira approached the tavern. Its chatter would have drawn too much attention if she entered. So Bira had to settle for climbing up to the tavern’s roof and keeping an eye on anyone leaving.

The abbess warned her that some targets presented unusual challenges, but Bira didn’t expect the bones to give her problems. They’d all been eager for retribution. Bira thought she’d be able to gather enough bones for a full rosary and initiation into the order in no time.

“If murder was all there was to it, we’d run out of room,” the abbess said. “Not everyone called to us is suitable for our work. We strive to satisfy the dead, not ourselves.”

“This damp makes me ill,” the bone wailed. At that, the other bones grumbled back that it was already dead.

“Would you all be quiet,” Bira hissed, nervous they’d be heard. “I can wear you around my neck, but you need to be touching my skin so I can feel when you get colder.”

Bira expected the usual complaints about lack of propriety in resting on what the bone called ‘intimate areas’ but it merely harrumphed. She put the rosary on and waited.

Moments later, the bone turned icy when a lanky man exited. Bira was on him in an instant and it was done.

“Wait,” the bone cried out as Bira was about to touch it to the blood.

“Whatever for?”

“I don’t want to be silent. Please. I can be better.”

“Getting their blood doesn’t keep the others from talking,” Bira said. “It just makes them happy.”

“I’d be happiest talking.”  

“Then talk. Just not while I’m working. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Song Choice: Heads Will Roll by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

This flash fiction was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, About Those Bones.