We’re out in the clearing, where everyone can see, but nobody will help.
I shiver, although I’m not sure if it’s because of the dropping temperature or the pair of sleek birds watching me from the trees. The ravens study me with sinister eyes. I don’t need to see them to know they’re watching. I can feel it, the ice in their stares. The pair stands together, perched on a bare branch, heads cocked curiously. They are waiting.
They pretend they’re not watching. Whenever I glance out the corner of my eye, they’re always preening and sifting through their glossy, oily black feathers. Yet I hear their croaks, low sounds that ripple through the air, and chills run through my body. I feign indifference, then drift back and forth between fear and preparation.
Then, there were three. I did not see the third one come, but there it is, flying alongside the other two. They fly in a circle, twisting, flapping their glossy wings. Two more join; there’s five now. I lengthen my stride, but the distance between us remains constant. I try to swallow the rising panic as more creatures flock to them, forming a dark cloud of black feathers, wings, and tails, curved black beaks and claws, black hearts and black eyes. I start sprinting. But how can I escape? They are everywhere. So many of them that I can’t see the light of day. They are everywhere. Cold sweat forms on my skin, drenching my t-shirt and sweatpants. Should I ignore them? Maybe if I pretend I don’t know their target is me, they will leave me alone. I keep running, adrenaline pumping through my veins, until I become aware of my surroundings.
I’m in a forest. Tall, crooked trees with jagged, bare branches loom overhead, and muddy slush sticks to the bottom of my sneakers. Thorn bushes are scattered throughout the undergrowth. Then it hits me, at the same time as the ravens. I am in their land, among their kind, in their clutches. I kick and scream, but they drag me under. Beaks yank at my hair, peck at my skin. Claws dig into my flesh, leaving red welts and long slashes. I can’t see. Everywhere is darkness, numbing cold and blistering heat. Hours pass by as I cry and howl in pain, as I am tortured. Pain, tears, twisted limbs, broken bones, bruised skin. I feel dead. When they leave, I can barely stay awake. And I see rubies, raw and gleaming red, pouring from my arms and legs, oozing from my sides, spilling from the place where a human once lay.