EDIT: WAIT HOLD ON FORMATTING DIDN'T WORK
EDITAGAIN: OKAY YOU CAN'T ITALIC IN SPOILER TAGS BUT YOU CAN BOLD AND UNDERLINE AND BOLD, WHILE HARD ON THE EYES, STILL LOOKED BETTER THAN UNDERLINE. LCN ruined my story. I'm sorry. Just imagine that's all italic.
EDITAGAINAGAIN: RAI SO RAI, NOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO PRETEND
THE NEXT PORTION. 6184 words now, except obviously the week is over. But I can't stop there. That would make people think I didn't actually have anything else planned out for the story, even though nobody was thinking that.
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The woman lay in the center of the forest, looking up at the sky the endlessly setting sun burned red. She, too, would live here endlessly. The universe had sent her a great gift in the form of the boy, and now she had many years ahead of her. And, she had no doubt, before her time would come, she would receive yet another great gift that would bless her as an undying being.
She thought back to a time long past. She thought back to the very last day she spent as a human. That was the day she discovered the forest. She remembered it quite well, considering just how long ago it was. However, it had marked the beginning of her new life; she felt that forgetting the details of that day would be strange. She felt as though she had reached a new beginning of her life, so what better time to reminisce about what brought her here?
When she was still a young girl, she had run into the forest to get away from something unpleasant -- an argument, of some sort, either with her family or with her friends. However, she ran farther into the forest than she meant to. She ran deeper into the forest than she was permitted to by the other villagers. Everyone had always said the depths of this forests were cursed by a witch. They must have known that it breaks all of the rules of this world.
She hadn't stopped running, and she hadn't been thinking about... well, anything, truly. She just ran and ran in her frustration, and that blinded her to the fact that the forest she was now in was experiencing a completely different season from the forest she first ran into. Before long, she collapsed from the sheer heat. When she awoke, she was laying on the forest floor, dead leaves tangled into her hair, and feeling still quite uncomfortably hot. That was what she noticed it. It was autumn in the forest, not the winter she had run from. She immediately tore off her excess clothing, worn only to keep her warm from the winds of winter.
After that, the girl searched the forest as thoroughly as she could have. She eventually discovered a large shed and, feeling as though she had just found her savior, knocked on the door as though it were a house. There was, of course, no answer; and her knocking at the door had disturbed it enough for the door to reveal that it was broken by swinging open on its own. Of course, the shed was bereft of life, let alone anything that one could call a savior. It was then that she noticed possibly the most disturbing thing she had seen in her life up until then: dead animals -- mostly insects, but a few small rodents as well -- impaled onto the edges of branches all about. The sight brought great fear to her. Not fear for what would be capable of doing this to such small creatures, but fear for why it would have done such a thing. She wondered if they had died a slow death that way, and whether or or not it was some type of warning.
Thinking gave her no precise answers to her questions, and she was far too unnerved by the combination of the forest's peculiarities and the morbid sight to want to remain there any longer. She had no choice but to continue her search. But the forest seemed so big to her, and she was so small. She was exhausted from the all the running she had done before, and though she spent a great deal of time searching for an end to the accursed forest, she never found one, and eventually could not bear to walk another step.
She had no inkling as to how long she had laid there, but thought that it must have been a very long time, for she fell asleep at some point. She awoke to the sound of a squirrel repeatedly making some sort of squealing noise. She searched for the source of the sound, only to find the poor thing imapled upon a branch, still alive. She covered her mouth with horror and pity. She could do nothing to put the poor creature out of its misery as it remained there, stuck and dying very slowly, very painfully. She could not stop herself from crying at the sight. She wanted nothing more than to save it, but it was too high up for her, and there was no way she would be able to climb the tree.
She turned away, tears still streaming from her eyes, and she looked around in hopes of finding the culprit. If this squirrel had been left to die in such a way, then surely all the other impaled animals she had seen had, too. She decided that no matter the reason and no matter its form, the culprit must have been a monster. But the only life she found beyond the dying squirrel and herself was a small bird perched on the branches of a nearby tree.
She thought nothing of it until she realized that it was watching her. Then she realized that it was a rather peculiar bird. Its head was disproportionately large compared to its body -- not enough that it was equal or larger than the body in size, but enough to give it a very different look from other birds. Its feathers were a bluish-gray colour on the upper half of its body, and the lower was a soft white. The bird had very prominent black feathers all about its wings and tail, too, though; and the most striking of its black markings was a strip of it that started from its black, hooked beak and completely surrounded its eyes and even went a little farther than that before at last submitting to the gray.
She then experienced the most bizarre sensation ever while staring at that bird -- the sense of, with her mind's own voice, asking herself why she was crying. The question seemed absurd, and she did not understand why she thought that just then. But it happened again. This time she thought: Tell me, human, why are you crying? She felt suddenly faint, realizing that her mind was having thoughts separate from her own. Am I going insane? she thought to herself, Why won't you answer?
She fell to her knees, now acutely aware of her heartbeat, and fearful. She no longer cared about the impaled squirrel that still made its pitiful sound high up in the tree behind her. She no longer cared what monster or witch would possess the cruelty to torture all these insects and animals. She just wanted to know what was happening to her. The bird flew down to stand on the ground. It was very close to her. Too close. Did this bird have no fear of her? What's wrong? Why won't you answer? her thoughts went again.
She stared at the bird with horror, seeing that its tiny black eyes were still staring right at her. Is this bird doing this? she thought, and her thoughts continued on a separate note without her will once more: Perhaps it is only for witches to perceive this. The bird and the girl stared at each other a moment longer, neither of them doing anything, and then the bird flew back up to its branch.
"Wait," the girl called after it, "Was that you?"
The bird flew back down to the ground and looked at the girl once more. If the girl was certain of nothing else, it was that this bird was just as abnormal as this impossible forest. A thought rushed to her once more: So you can perceive this after all.
"What are you?" The girl asked, her fear fading now that she understood this was some sort of telepathic power of the bird's, though that in itself was absurd and impossible. She began to think that perhaps she really was going insane.
I am what I appear to be. I believe your kind call me "butcher bird," so perhaps that is specific enough to sate your curiosity.
The girl had never heard of a bird with such a name, but frowned when she again became aware of the dying squirrel's cries. "Then are you the one who impaled all those animals on the trees?"
Yes. It makes it easier for me to eat my prey that way.
The girl became enraged, remembering the numerous dead she had seen by the shed -- some of which had been so old as to have flies buzzing around them. "Then why do you kill way more than you eat?"
Ah, I no longer need to eat to live. For the same reason that I am able to communicate with you in this way.
"What are you talking about?" She asked, her awareness of the abnormality of this situation increasing more by the second.
A being that called itself a witch told me that I had done something that allowed me to transcend all others of my kind. It taught me how to communicate in this way, and taught me that I no longer require the same sustenance I did in the past.
"A witch? So there really is a witch who lives in this forest?"
No, it does not seem to live here.
"Doesn't 'seem to'? You mean you don't know?"
I am not originally from this land, either. It was sheer chance I ever ended up here at all. I used to live in the vast open areas, not the dense collections of trees. But the cold days came, and my prey retreated from my land. I thought to traverse to lands still warmed by the sun, and on my way spotted this place, still warm enough to be teeming with prey. I decided to stay here until the cold days at my original land ended. But I soon found that leaving this place was no longer possible for me. I can not explain it, but even now I cannot leave. Eventually, the witch came, and told me about what I had become. I had not seen the witch before it met me, and though it seems to visit periodically, it does not seem to live here.
"Okay," the girl said, "so why do you impale all those animals if you're not going to eat them?"
Because death is a beautiful thing.
The girl was infuriated by this bird. Butcher bird -- what a horrid, fitting name for such a monster. "If you like death so much, maybe I should just kill you so none of these other animals will ever have to suffer because of you ever again."
Were you to grant my wish, human, I would welcome and accept the act with grace.
"What are you talking about?" The girl had some difficulty decoding what this bird was trying to get across, at times. Its style of speech was alien to her. Nobody spoke that way in the village.
I witness the deaths of these animals. I miss nothing; not even their last breath. I've come to realize that death is the most beautiful thing, and that the reason I am so fascinated by it -- the reason I needlessly kill them -- is because I long to be closer to death. My greatest desire, now, is to die. Is it not humorous? Before I met the witch, my first and only priority was to ensure my continued existence. That is why I went, each year, to such exhausting lengths to migrate elsewhere where I might find more food. But now that life is as easy as absorbing some large creatures now and again through such a simple act as coming into direct contact with them, my thoughts are much the opposite. Even more contradictory is my fear of ceasing the very acts that continue my life, even though such a cessation would eventually result in my death.
The girl knew now that sympathizing with this creature would be impossible. She was not even convinced that she was understanding it properly, as the thoughts it was sending to her mind made no logical sense to her; but if she was misunderstanding it, then there was probably no way for them to communicate any more clearly than they already were. It was, after all, nothing but a bird.
Tell me, human, the bird pushed its own thoughts into hers, do you wish for eternal life?
The girl thought on this a moment. Eternal life was like a dream come true. She would never die, so she would never have to be afraid of anything. She could do anything she wanted to, and no one would stop her. "You can give me eternal life?" she asked the bird, still doubtful that it could do such an impossible thing despite all the impossibilities the bird had already made possible.
Yes. Grant my wish, human. End my life, and devour my flesh. The witch's blessing be yours.
The girl hesitated, again considering the bird's proposal. What it was asking was disgusting, but at the same time, if she killed this bird the other animals in the forest would not have to suffer its torture.
She didn't think she had it in her to deny herself eternal life, anyway.
This post has been edited by Rhiannon: Apr 4 2013, 05:15 PM
LCN WRITING WEEK, i had not a better name, sorry world.
Mar 25 2013, 03:00 AM
click to read.
Shiokazu LCN WRITING WEEK Mar 25 2013, 03:00 AM
