“Let’s do this? Do what, mortal? What are you going to do, you pathetic bag of blood and feces?” The voice came from the billy goat, which seemed to grow larger as we stared at it.
One of the nanny goats lost her poor little mind at that point and bleated at an ear-splitting volume. She went on and on. I don’t know how such a little thing could have enough lung capacity to keep going at such a volume. After a moment of her caprine hysterics, the billy goat/skinwalker, without even turning its head to face her, kicked backwards like a mule or donkey, just once, but once was enough. There was a sickening crack as most of the bones in her body shattered, leaving her a shapeless mass on the barn floor, a final bleat, soft like a sigh, came from her as air left her lungs for the final time.
“I rebuke you in the Name of Jesus Christ!” shouted Pastor Elijah.
The skinwalker/billy goat responded with a deep baritone laugh that ominously shifted from baritone to bass as it deepened. “I'm not a
