The Bird

The Bird

I used to go on a daily walk through the woods outside my city. It was one of my quiet moments away from the bustle of people going about their days.

The city had grown strangely quiet recently though. Sometimes the woods felt like it was screaming instead of whispering.

There was a bird I used to see on my walks. A beautiful bird that walked on long spindly legs. She had a sharp beak and a wingspan that boasted the ability to shield the largest man in the village. Her feathers were beautiful to behold. They fluctuated between colors as a flame fluctuates with the air. The root being a bright blue that gradually bled into a bold red. When I approached her she would open one wing in greeting and then work her way in a circle around me. A strange, hypnotic sort of dance. Her feathers almost shimmered like stained glass as the sun shone through her plumage.

That was before the change.

Now when I walked through the woods I would simply find her feathers. The roots of them tinged with blood as though they had been pulled out with some force. In the beginning I was afraid that my friend had been attacked by a predator and I was finding what was left behind. Then I found her.

It was one of the days I was lost in thought. My thoughts have been unusually heavy as of late and the walks became my only solace. As I ventured through the shade of the trees I heard the sound of soft crying. For a brief moment I felt a shudder run through my spine as it had been so long since I’d felt such sorrow. As I listened I realized that the soft crying was inhuman. I slowed my steps. I afraid of what I’d find and then I stumbled upon her.

I stifled a gasp.

She sat, her torn and tattered feathered dress scattered on the ground. I felt my heart sink as she shuddered with each sob. Her beauty had been utterly destroyed. I’d thought that she’d been destroyed by outside forces, but she’d been ripping herself apart.

Then a twig snapped.

Her head shot up. Her eyes empty. There was no greeting, there was no dance, I felt a pain in my chest. No one had touched me but I’d felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me as our eyes remained locked.

And then she fled.

I stood, frozen as I heard the brush snapping behind me as someone approached.

It was then that I met him.