Sigh. It was a fine white day, snow floated with elegance down upon the world, small rays of sunlight radiated through little openings in the clouds like heavenly light, one of the largest beams shone proudly down on a woman of unblemished beauty. She sat lazily perched on the small wooden bench of a beautiful snow covered park. Cool porcelain fingers gently curled about the frame of her chosen resting place as the feminine figure stared cynically out into the empty plain, her cold unfeeling silver gaze taking an interest in only animals such as birds. Ah yes, birds. Such beautiful creatures, with the freedom to fly beyond all, and gaze down at the world from above; twas a cherished gift that this woman appreciated greatly. Why would she care for such a luxury one might ask. Let’s take a look at the evidence. Scattered all around her were clusters of matted silken feathers, each one shimmering with a shadowy array of color upon expiry. Without the glamour to hide her true form from mortal eyes, this woman made the term beautiful seem like a mere word compared to her own appearance. Large black, tattered wings fanned out from her shoulder blades with such macabre grace, it would force anyone to stop and stare, even if for only a few moments. Her hair was darker than ink, decorated with small ripples of blue hidden deep within its neatly braided cluster. Heart stopping Silver pools with gold lined rims took the place of her eyes, glittering with such life any and all who took it upon themselves to meet her glare, would cower, or swoon. Creamy but pale limbs extended to acceptably long but thin lengths so as to give her a bit of a more… Sinister look but it did not manage to stifle her beauty. The woman’s lips were a soft hue of rose petal pink, and when touched, kissed or even bitten they felt smoother than silk, and soft as a cloud. Graciously aligned on her fingers were jet black talons that proved to be sharper than any blade. One might think she could have been an angel, had it not been for the dark black horns sprouting in an elegant arc out from the sides of her head. If one were to classify her as anything, it may as well have been a broken god. For that was all she was now. Dressed in the simple garments of thin black jeans, a matching black sweater and a fur lined bright white coat; the shattered woman did not give off much of a social air. To her right was a small can full of a soft drink she had purchased from a nearby soda machine, and to her left sat a large, untouched book. Clearly she was very uninterested in either objects, her only concern were the pigeons that fluttered about a garbage bin in search of food, enviously glaring at their ability to produce flight while she was stuck on the ground. It took a long period of time for her to eventually draw her focus back to her only means of entertainment; the book. It was deep blue and green tint with a small thread binding it together. On its cover, it held an inverted pentagram; this was spell book of sorts. As she reached out her hand to grab it the woman paused a moment, her eyes slowly shifting to see a small black bird struggling to get off its side. It was clear to her then it too had a broken wing. Furrowing her brow in a slightly serious manner, the lady reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small packet of seeds. Tearing away the top she placed the shred back in her pocket making a mental note to throw it away later; and emptied its contents into her open hand. Leaning forward she placed the back of her palm to the ground catching the birds attention. She coaxed with a soft voice for it to come hither and after many minutes of patience, she soon held a cute little flightless bird in her grasp, watching with heartfelt eyes as it pecked cutely at the seeds in her hand. Once all the seeds were cleared from their place, the woman gently pat the little creatures head and solemnly said, “Ashes to ashes.. Dust to dust.. Give this bird the gift of flight, which I have lost.” Placing her tender lips to the wounded wing, the female watched with cold eyes as it morphed painlessly back into its rightful setting on the birds shoulder. The tiny being twittered gaily at such a wonderful gift. With a flutter and a flap the bird took flight and swooped around the woman in loving circles. She chuckled softly at these affections, allowing her silver gaze to follow him aimlessly about. After what seemed to be an eternity the bird suddenly lost all interest in his savior and began to fly elsewhere. As the distance between him and the woman grew, her eyes hardened. “Beware young creature, I gave you the gift of flight but it is also a curse.” Once the bird was ten consecutive feet away, it was swarmed by a cloud of black. Caws and screeches pierced the silence of the area as crows from afar began to encircle the tiny bird. It tweeted with worry at the larger birds and then, as they closed the distance; began to scream. The black crows tore mercilessly at the wings of the significantly smaller bird with their beaks, ripping out both feathers and flesh. The woman’s concern has disappeared like a shot in the dark. In its place was a sinister glare, with a smile wide as could be, her sharp canine teeth glittering coldly in the lighting as cries of anguish and agony shattered the once silent veil. Blood dripped down in bold colors upon the once white snow, dying it shades of pink. Even when the bird fell to the ground, no longer able to fly, the crows did not cease their damage. They swooped down from above and clawed at the feeble creature whom had lost all the will to fight, and merely lay there bloody and wounded awaiting patiently to die. It was some time before the crows let up, and when they did all that remained of the once happy bird, were mere scraps of feathers, blood, ripped flesh and bone. Even when this charade came to a bloody conclusion, allowing the crows to take place by their mistress, the broken one just stared at the dead remnants of the bird not saying a word. When a crow finally grew the moxie to pester her with a peck, she merely smirked and took hold of her soft drink taking a long guzzle of its contents before parting her lips to cheerfully say, “Now that is what I call entertainment.”
Posted on: Sat, 01 Feb 2014 03:29:01 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015