The black bird croaked
in a gruesome voice. It was a Raven, and it looked like a messenger of Satan.
Crows were one thing, with their cawing, but Ravens — they looked similar but
their voices were very different. Joshua hated birds regardless. As a child, he
had a Blue Jay nesting in his backyard. He remembered walking outside only to
have the psychotic bird swoop down and attack his head for no apparent reason.
Since then, he felt that all avian creatures held a disgruntlement towards him.
He felt them watch him with judging eyes, waiting to attack. The Hitchcock
movie didn’t help any, either. That was one thing people underestimated — birds
may be small, but they have their numbers, and if they grouped together, they
could overcome humans.
What if the birds
finally realized that? Joshua thought. If they knew how we could be at their
mercy, would they turn on us?
He walked to his car,
talking on his phone to Raymond, his workday coming to its end.
"I'll be there in
about fifteen minutes," he said. "I'm buying the first round."
He opened the door to
his car, relieved that he had left the windows rolled down. It was a hot and
humid day, and he hated to wait for his car to cool. He had no working air
conditioning and it took forever for the temperature to decrease on days like
this.
When he started the
car, the engine didn't turn over, but instead made a weird sound. There was an
unusual vibration coming from other parts of his vehicle.
"Please,
God," he said. "Come on. Help me out."
He turned the key
again. The engine whirred and struggled, and at the last minute, it burst to
life. Joshua grinned. He hit the gas pedal, backed out from his parking space,
and was on his way. He had a fleeting worry in his mind that after drinking at
the bar with Raymond he could have the same car troubles again — and this time
he would be too drunk to know what to do.
If that happens, he
thought. I'll pass out in the car and figure things out in the morning while suffering
my hangover headache.
He was within five
minutes of the bar, when he heard the croaking sound. There was rustling
beneath him. It hopped from the back of the car and stood in the passenger
seat, staring at him with curiosity.
"Get out of
here," he said, swatting his arm at the huge raven. The bird pecked hard
at his wrist, drawing blood. "Ouch. You bastard."
The bird croaked
loudly, and they came. Rushing in a torrent through his windows — hundreds of
them — cardinals, crows, bluebirds, robins, ravens, and many more of which he
didn't know the name. Joshua cried out and slammed on the brakes. He could see
the bar from a distance.
#
When Raymond left the pub,
drunk and pissed that Joshua didn’t show up, he nearly tripped over the jack-o'-lantern on the ground. On its face were two circle eyes and what looked
like a smiling beak. He walked towards his car and saw his friend in the
distance, cut and bleeding.
"I thought you
were buying first round. What happened to you?" His friend moved clumsily
towards him, zombielike and sluggish. "Joshua?"
His friend's body fell
to the ground, and he saw the blood. Joshua's back was missing, the skin and
muscle torn to pieces, but this wasn't the real surprise. Behind him, dozens of
birds that had been holding him up settled to the ground. In the very front was
a large Raven. The bird croaked, and the rest of them charged forward. Raymond
stumbled and fell in his drunkenness, and he screamed. The last thing he heard
was the rustling of hundreds of wings surrounding him.
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