The Crow
The Crow by Skylar Kendall
With a soulless,black gaze it looks upon you. Its blackened wings show death as they unfold, smoothly, like a water gently running in a river. It has no soul, so it takes the souls of those lost. The souls of those who have done neither good, nor bad in the world before death. It has no use of happiness or sorrow, for it acquires its satisfaction just by being apart of this unforgiving, cold world. It destroys families, yet creates a feeling. A feeling of uncertainty, mourning, and complete confusion. I've seen those like this creature, but those had not struck the feeling of fear into my heart. When I saw this one, I knew that he was the keeper of my soul. In his eyes you could see an endless black abyss accompanied by sorrow and anger. Though one thing did catch my gaze. A single white stripe in the eye ran down from the top of the pupil to the bottom of dark eye. It was as if someone had taken a small brush and painted lightly over it. I wondered if that stripe, that lone white stripe, could be a good soul taken by mistake. Slowly, I turned my attention to the wings of this bird of death. They were a sight so unimaginable, so pure, so somber. It turned quickly, yet silent and most gentle. As it turned I saw that each feather had a distinct patten. Also that each feather was darker than the last. One feather softly floated down to my bedside and I saw that the pattern was something that I would never imagine to have seen on a bird, much less anywhere else. It was a diamond shining, perched so carefully above roaring black flames. The image is burned into my mind as if an arsonist had poured gasoline on my thoughts and set them aflame. Then, it began. My legs started to feel numb, as if ice water was coursing through my veins. My arms slowly followed suit. Suddenly, the only thing I could feel was the movement of my eyes as I watched the room. The room went a pure pitch black. My eyes left wide open, yet nothing was seen. I felt as if I were in an abyss of dark, black shadows. Fading into my view was a scene of what seemed to be a sorrowful forest at night. My heart started to pound again, feeling started to return to my entire body. I stood there blank for quite sometime before I realized that I could move. I looked myself over and saw I was wearing nothing but black, except of course for the undershirt. A chilling mist engulfed the floor of the forest. I turned to the trees to see that the bark was dying, the leaves had all disappeared. It seemed as if the trees were dead, yet an essence of immortality was amongst them. I began to walk. I walked for hours, upon hours, searching for something besides these trees. Nothing could be found, nothing could be heard. I've been cursed to carry out my afterlife in an endless forest of somber. I've achieved postmortem, now I sit here in the crow's endless abyss.
With a soulless,black gaze it looks upon you. Its blackened wings show death as they unfold, smoothly, like a water gently running in a river. It has no soul, so it takes the souls of those lost. The souls of those who have done neither good, nor bad in the world before death. It has no use of happiness or sorrow, for it acquires its satisfaction just by being apart of this unforgiving, cold world. It destroys families, yet creates a feeling. A feeling of uncertainty, mourning, and complete confusion. I've seen those like this creature, but those had not struck the feeling of fear into my heart. When I saw this one, I knew that he was the keeper of my soul. In his eyes you could see an endless black abyss accompanied by sorrow and anger. Though one thing did catch my gaze. A single white stripe in the eye ran down from the top of the pupil to the bottom of dark eye. It was as if someone had taken a small brush and painted lightly over it. I wondered if that stripe, that lone white stripe, could be a good soul taken by mistake. Slowly, I turned my attention to the wings of this bird of death. They were a sight so unimaginable, so pure, so somber. It turned quickly, yet silent and most gentle. As it turned I saw that each feather had a distinct patten. Also that each feather was darker than the last. One feather softly floated down to my bedside and I saw that the pattern was something that I would never imagine to have seen on a bird, much less anywhere else. It was a diamond shining, perched so carefully above roaring black flames. The image is burned into my mind as if an arsonist had poured gasoline on my thoughts and set them aflame. Then, it began. My legs started to feel numb, as if ice water was coursing through my veins. My arms slowly followed suit. Suddenly, the only thing I could feel was the movement of my eyes as I watched the room. The room went a pure pitch black. My eyes left wide open, yet nothing was seen. I felt as if I were in an abyss of dark, black shadows. Fading into my view was a scene of what seemed to be a sorrowful forest at night. My heart started to pound again, feeling started to return to my entire body. I stood there blank for quite sometime before I realized that I could move. I looked myself over and saw I was wearing nothing but black, except of course for the undershirt. A chilling mist engulfed the floor of the forest. I turned to the trees to see that the bark was dying, the leaves had all disappeared. It seemed as if the trees were dead, yet an essence of immortality was amongst them. I began to walk. I walked for hours, upon hours, searching for something besides these trees. Nothing could be found, nothing could be heard. I've been cursed to carry out my afterlife in an endless forest of somber. I've achieved postmortem, now I sit here in the crow's endless abyss.