Crows--One-shot
Author: Beca-Bex
Summary: Weird twisted symbolism thing including death and crows...yay, darkness!
Notes/Disclaimer: Inspired by conversations with Carla and Nolan yesterday...
For those who listen to "The Crows Are Coming for Us" by From First To Last and "As the Crow Flies" by Thrice, they'll notice some dialogue similar to the lyrics.
Nick's (who may be Aiden's Wiggins or an original character, your choice) companion is quoting a few lines from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven." :)
Dedication: Carla, you are my world<3
"You have the sky on your hands," he said, referring to the matching red in the atmosphere and on Nick's palms. Nick himself stared mutely at his own tainted skin, heart flying around and ricocheting off his ribcage, trembling his whole body. What had he done?
His entranced eyes snapped back to life with the catching of a steady "caaaw caw caaaaw" and the two broke their gazes from the corpse to look up. Their heads turned and re-angled ever so slightly as to follow the newcomers, admire their black feathers and the bright, clever beads for eyes. They appreciated the curves of hollow wing bones and the speed of the birds' movements as they gathered around the sack of gory death, hanging by one black rope around the neck. The birds themselves ignored their presence and went to bathe in the puddles of blood surrounding.
In wonder, Nick's companion breathes, "This ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling. By the grave and stern decorum of the coutenance it wore. Groups of these beasts aren't called "murders" for nothing!"
The crows finally seemed to notice them, but continued to be unbothered by their company.
"Come now." The blood on Nick's hand spread onto his as their fingers linked together. "We must leave."
"To go where?" Nick asked.
"Anywhere." His companion hooked his other hand around Nick's bicep and pulled him away.
But Nick, the bleeding heart, couldn't resist looking back one last time and as soon as he does, a scream ripped out of his throat. He howled at the birds pecking out the corpse's eyeballs, the white fluid and reddish-brown muscle spilling from the sockets and down the gray cheeks. Some of the substances went into the open mouth, torn slightly at the corners. It was a sorry sight of the end of human dignity.
"Get them away!" Nick screeched, waving his free arm at the crows. But it was useless, what with him being hastily dragged further and further off. "Get them away!"
"There's nothing you can do anymore," his companion said in a soothing voice, not even glancing over his shoulder.
“He shouldn't have died!" Nick wailed, tears cascading down his face. 'It should've been me!"
The other man stopped, unhooked himself to grab Nick's shoulders and turned him so that they were face-to-face. His cold gaze pierced the crying man and he felt suddenly weak in the knees, about to collapse. There was no way out.
"We all fall eventually, my sweet. Don't worry about your friend over there, your time will come too one day," his companion said evenly, clasping Nick's chin with his forefinger and thumb. "But you must understand this: the crows are always coming for us, they hunger for the meat on our bones and the juicy organs we keep inside. They are able to parrot us in words yet feel not the pain we invest into them. They are our omens, our terrors, and in that, our enemies... But at the same time, they are our friends. If you are truly part of the Clan, you will one day sacrifice yourself to the Lord and if you accept that, you must accept the crows. You will welcome the fact that one day, they'll fly over you and consume what you leave behind. It is all the cycle for the good of the Clan and therefore the Lord. Do you understand me?"
Nick nodded numbly. Yes, he understood, he understood perfectly well. When his companion took his hand once again, he didn't glance down in horror at the blood anymore. When they trod on back towards the city, over the hill and the bubbling stream, not once did he take another look back at the carcass.
And the crows went on, eating the flesh of the face.
Summary: Weird twisted symbolism thing including death and crows...yay, darkness!
Notes/Disclaimer: Inspired by conversations with Carla and Nolan yesterday...
For those who listen to "The Crows Are Coming for Us" by From First To Last and "As the Crow Flies" by Thrice, they'll notice some dialogue similar to the lyrics.
Nick's (who may be Aiden's Wiggins or an original character, your choice) companion is quoting a few lines from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven." :)
Dedication: Carla, you are my world<3
"You have the sky on your hands," he said, referring to the matching red in the atmosphere and on Nick's palms. Nick himself stared mutely at his own tainted skin, heart flying around and ricocheting off his ribcage, trembling his whole body. What had he done?
His entranced eyes snapped back to life with the catching of a steady "caaaw caw caaaaw" and the two broke their gazes from the corpse to look up. Their heads turned and re-angled ever so slightly as to follow the newcomers, admire their black feathers and the bright, clever beads for eyes. They appreciated the curves of hollow wing bones and the speed of the birds' movements as they gathered around the sack of gory death, hanging by one black rope around the neck. The birds themselves ignored their presence and went to bathe in the puddles of blood surrounding.
In wonder, Nick's companion breathes, "This ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling. By the grave and stern decorum of the coutenance it wore. Groups of these beasts aren't called "murders" for nothing!"
The crows finally seemed to notice them, but continued to be unbothered by their company.
"Come now." The blood on Nick's hand spread onto his as their fingers linked together. "We must leave."
"To go where?" Nick asked.
"Anywhere." His companion hooked his other hand around Nick's bicep and pulled him away.
But Nick, the bleeding heart, couldn't resist looking back one last time and as soon as he does, a scream ripped out of his throat. He howled at the birds pecking out the corpse's eyeballs, the white fluid and reddish-brown muscle spilling from the sockets and down the gray cheeks. Some of the substances went into the open mouth, torn slightly at the corners. It was a sorry sight of the end of human dignity.
"Get them away!" Nick screeched, waving his free arm at the crows. But it was useless, what with him being hastily dragged further and further off. "Get them away!"
"There's nothing you can do anymore," his companion said in a soothing voice, not even glancing over his shoulder.
“He shouldn't have died!" Nick wailed, tears cascading down his face. 'It should've been me!"
The other man stopped, unhooked himself to grab Nick's shoulders and turned him so that they were face-to-face. His cold gaze pierced the crying man and he felt suddenly weak in the knees, about to collapse. There was no way out.
"We all fall eventually, my sweet. Don't worry about your friend over there, your time will come too one day," his companion said evenly, clasping Nick's chin with his forefinger and thumb. "But you must understand this: the crows are always coming for us, they hunger for the meat on our bones and the juicy organs we keep inside. They are able to parrot us in words yet feel not the pain we invest into them. They are our omens, our terrors, and in that, our enemies... But at the same time, they are our friends. If you are truly part of the Clan, you will one day sacrifice yourself to the Lord and if you accept that, you must accept the crows. You will welcome the fact that one day, they'll fly over you and consume what you leave behind. It is all the cycle for the good of the Clan and therefore the Lord. Do you understand me?"
Nick nodded numbly. Yes, he understood, he understood perfectly well. When his companion took his hand once again, he didn't glance down in horror at the blood anymore. When they trod on back towards the city, over the hill and the bubbling stream, not once did he take another look back at the carcass.
And the crows went on, eating the flesh of the face.