Blood Stained Beak
Blood Stained Beak
It was nearly three o'clock in the morning and still he stared up at the apartment's ceiling with bloodshot eyes. It was not the bird that squawked loudly in its cage that prevented him from sleeping; it was the absence of his wife. She had been missing for eight days now, and he had not slept for more than a handful of hours since her disappearance. As he tossed and turned in bed, wondering where she went. A little over a week ago, they had gone to bed together at the usual time, but when the alarm clock woke him the following morning, she was not beside him. At first, he thought that she had merely risen early and he half-expected to find her in the kitchen preparing breakfast, but she was not there; she wasn't anywhere in the house. He thought she had gone out for some reason, but her car sat idle in the driveway. For a moment, he entertained the notion that she had left him, but her clothing and personal things were exactly as they had always been.
Then a chilling thought occurred to him; what if someone had abducted her? He soon discarded this theory. There were no windows or doors open, no signs of forced entry. She was simply gone, vanished as if the earth had opened up and swallowed her. He called all of her friends and family asking if they had seen any sign of her, but it was a pointless exercise; no one had even the slightest clue to her whereabouts.
Eventually, he contacted the police, but they, too, were little help. Not only had they been unable to locate his wife, they seemed convinced that he knew more than he was saying about her disappearance. He was questioned over and over by detectives; it was maddening. The constant attention from the police had begun to turn his friends and family against him. Everyone started to believe that he had killed his wife and buried her corpse in some remote, shallow unmarked grave.
He turned on his side and let out a low disgusted groan. The small black bird let out a piecing squawk, almost as if it were replying to him. He stared at the obnoxious little beast. It pecked at its prison bars. He hated the bird, but at the same time, he could not bear to part with it. His wife had bought it the day before her disappearance. He smiled sadly; the bird reminded him of her, beautiful but impractical. He didn't have the time or inclination towards pet ownership, but just the same, he kept on feeding it. With every day that passed, it was becoming increasingly less likely that his wife would return; nevertheless, part of him still held out hope. He wanted everything to be just as she had left it. The bird chirped once again. He strained his eyes in the room s gloomy interior, trying to make out its features. Its small body was the color of night, with the exception of a blood- red streak that ran down its back. He had never seen another bird quite like it. He could not put his finger on it, but there was just something not quite right about the small creature. As he continued to stare at the black bird, he began to notice something that defied reason. It seemed larger than it had been only a few moments earlier. He shut his eyes for a moment, not believing what he had seen. Surely, it must be his imagination or a trick of the light. There was no way that the bird could have increased in size in just a few second's time. As he opened his eyes again, he let out a startled gasp. The bird had grown larger still.
His hands shook uncontrollably as he reached for the lamp next to his bed. When he switched on the light, a terrified moan passed his lips. Not only had the bird grown to the point where its small cage barely contained its rapidly expanding body, now large razor-sharp needle like fangs protruded down from its beak. It cawed and crowed as it beat its wings against the thin aluminum bars.
Its body continued to expand and change until it was no longer recognizable as a bird. It now looked like an escapee from a lunatic's nightmare. The birdcage bars twisted and bent before snapping, freeing the monstrous thing. It fluttered across the room and landed on the floor at the foot of the bed. It had now grown to the size of a large dog. For a moment, he was too terrified to move. He just sat, trembling uncontrollably. After what seemed an eternity, he willed himself to move. He had to get away from the loathsome creature before it was too late. Deliberately and silently, he slipped from bed and began making his way toward the bedroom door. As he crossed into the hallway, he glanced back at the monstrous thing. It was now the size of a man and had transformed into something that he lacked the vocabulary to describe.
As he hurried down the hallway, the hideous thing let out a blood-curdling cry that sounded like it belonged to an enraged jungle beast. With the creature nipping at his heels, he ran into the living room, trying desperately to open the front door, but its knob wouldn't turn. He looked around frantically for another exit. He dashed toward a window and tried to slide it open, but the latch was fastened securely; it wouldn't turn, no matter how hard he tried. He seized a small wooden chair and repeatedly slammed it against the window's glass. The chair splintered in his hands but the glass wouldn't shatter.
The nightmare-thing that stalked him hovered menacingly a few feet away. It let out a low rumbling laughter that almost sounded human. He ended his pointless attempt at escape; he would not spend the last precious seconds of his life like an animal caught in a trap. He straightened and faced the horrid creature. He no longer felt the fear that had chilled his blood. As the unnatural thing shambled towards him, he didn't try to flee; he just wanted this horror to end and to be reunited with his wife.
The apartment's occupants were never heard from again. The police searched the domicile, but there was no trace of the couple. Had they been a little more thorough, perhaps the police would have noticed the blood stains on the bird's beak, and the severed finger that lay on the bottom of its cage.