Forget
A/N: So, this is something a LOT darker than I normally work on. Wanted to do something a bit more psychological, for a change, I guess. Ah well. Warning for creepiness. Enjoy.
It was a horrid wailing that woke her from her slumber. For the first few seconds, the darkness crushed in around her, drowning her in its vastness. She craned her head, and flailed her wings outwards in distress, her instincts telling her that she could fill the void of blackness with her own body, and make it something of this world again.
It wasn't until her wingtip brushed against something warm and soft beside her that she managed to regain her footing on reality. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, and turned towards that point of contact, swaying unsteadily on her claws. Through the darkness, she could just make out the sight of another bird beside her, standing perfectly still and watching her. There were a few uncomfortable moments wherein the two of them simply stood there, staring at each other and waiting for the other to speak. Then, at length, the other bird spoke, her voice soft and hesitant.
"Wick?"
The small bird blinked a few times, still catching her bearings after the momentary madness.
"Tallow?" Wick tried.
The other bird nodded softly. Wick felt instantly comforted, knowing that it was Tallow beside her. Of course, who else would it be? They were the only unmated sparrows in their flock, and so they had bonded together naturally. Ever since Tallow had lost her own mate, she'd been Wick's closest confidant. The older sparrow's calm nature was all it took to bring the runt back from her own night terrors.
As the two of them finally became comfortable with their own existence there, they settled down, peering out into the darkness. The night air pressed in around at the two of them for another moment, as they waited, searching for any sort of hint as to where the sound had come from. They didn't have to wait long. Within a few moments, the sharp, piercing wail returned, and both of them shrunk away from the horrible sound. It was a mournful sound, mixed with terror. As it came to a close, the two birds turned to each other. Without needing to speak, they both hopped out of their shared nest, and flitted their wings.
They passed out from beneath the cover of leaves and branches above them, and suddenly, the moon was illuminating the darkness all around them. It wasn't enough to show anything in sharp detail, but it was enough for them to see their way clear enough to fly. Their wings beat at the cool night air, sending them skimming forward. They dodged around trees, as opposed to passing through the branches as they normally would, knowing that in difficult flying conditions like these, it was always better to rule on the side of safety.
As they flew, Wick and Tallow quickly noticed that they were not the only birds in flight. Around them, a number of other sparrows had taken off, and were making their way towards the source of the noise. They moved in perfect concert with each other, born from a lifetime of flying in tight groups. Without pausing to think, they flapped, and dipped and rose without ever hitting each other.
That horrific wailing noise sounded again, from much closer now. As one, the sparrows all veered off to the left. Within a few moments, they had reached their destination; another tallish tree. They all came together, and alighted in the branches. There were hushed conversations passing about all around, as mated pairs huddled together, as though they could protect each other from the sound.
For their part, Wick and Tallow simply stuck close to each other, as they often did. Being the only two unmated females in the flock, they often ended up separated from the others.
The source of the wailing soon became apparent; there was a single nest in the tree, a few branches up from Wick and Tallow. Wick craned her neck upwards, trying to get a better look at it. As she watched, she saw it rocking violently.
There was already a fair group of sparrows crowding around the nest, trying to speak to speak to the distressed female inside. From this far away, and with all of the voices speaking, Wick couldn't pick up a thing. She glanced over to Tallow, and nodded upwards. Tallow nodded, and so the two of them took to their wings, lifting up quickly.
They found perches in a branch just above the one that held the nest. As Wick landed, she glanced down. At first, she couldn't see much. There was a female sparrow in the nest, thrashing around and crying out in agonizing terror. Her mate stood next to her, just on the edge of the nest, watching on and trying to calm her.
Wick was about to turn and ask Tallow what she thought, when something glinted in the moonlight down below. She glanced down, and her eyes widened in terror.
As the thrashing female beneath batted about, she raised her wing momentarily. Beneath it, Wick could make out several shattered fragments of eggshells. A sick feeling passed through the runt's chest, making her want to turn away. However, she watched on just long enough to catch site of the ruined mess of what had been inside the egg, still left behind in the nest.
At this, Wick actually did turn away, having to suck in sharp gasps of air to keep herself from losing her composure. Even for an unmated sparrow such as herself, there was no greater terror than the possibility of a broken egg. Beside her, she heard Tallow shifting, no doubt feeling just as horrified as her.
Below them, it seemed that the rest of the flock had seen the shattered egg as well. A deathly hush fell across all of them. Fortunate it was, too, because if they hadn't been quiet, then they wouldn't have heard the bird in the nest's mate crying out, "Stop, you daft creature, or you'll destroy the rest of them!"
Wick blinked, not quite catching on for an instant. She put the pieces together quickly, though, and it seemed that the birds beneath her picked up on it even faster. Immediately, a number of sparrows sprung forward, buffeting the flailing bird out of her nest. Caught off guard as she was, she offered no resistance, simply falling back onto the branch.
Two larger male sparrows and her mate jumped on her at once, restraining her and keeping her from rolling off of the branch. As they did that, Wick set her eyes to look down into the nest again. She shuddered as she saw the shattered egg on one side of the nest again. However, the revulsion was lessened a good deal by her relief upon seeing the two other eggs in the nest, both of them perfectly intact. They lay nestled in the twigs, entirely separate from the carnage on the far side of the nest.
There was a general rumbling of relief from throughout the tree's branches. The sudden lightening of the situation seemed to turn it into less of a tragedy to all of them, and they all felt comfortable enough to consider the saving of the other two eggs as a victory.
"What were you thinking?" the male was saying, still holding himself above his struggling mate. "You could have destroyed the others, too!"
"My eggs!" she screeched, as though she hadn't heard him. "I have to protect my eggs!"
"What happened?" asked another male who was nearby. "Squirrels?"
"I don't know," the first male replied, grunting a bit as his mate buffeted at him with a wing. He repositioned himself to hold both of her wings back, before continuing. "I was off seeing if I could find us something to eat, and when I returned, she was like this!"
"You didn't see anything escaping?"
"Nothing."
"But why would a predator destroy the egg and not eat it?" It was a female that asked this, and her question set up a flurry of whispers. It was a large risk to enter even a sparrow's nest; why go through all that trouble and not leave with their prize?
"I didn't see anything!" the female cried. All of the attention focused back to her as she struggled for a few moments longer. Then, at last, she collapsed beneath her mate, exhausted. All was deadly silent as she regained her breath. Then, she spoke. "I was here... I was sitting on them... and then, one of them was broken! I didn't see them, I didn't hear them..."
She went on like this for a while longer, the rest of what she said turning into inane babbling. All of the assembled sparrows milled amongst each other, disturbed by her words.
Wick turned to look at Tallow, and found that the other sparrow was looking off, away from the tree. After a moment, she glanced back to Wick, then nodded in the direction she'd been looking.
"I noticed Fern heading off that way. She looked frightened. I'm going to see if I can calm her down."
Wick nodded, then watched as her friend lifted off and followed the other bird. Then, she returned her attention to the rest of the flock beneath her. She hopped down from her branch, and flapped until she landed just beneath, somewhat separated from the rest of the birds.
She heard the frightened whispers all about her; the rumours of a new predator that struck without being seen. Lately, there had been a disturbingly large number of occurrences. At first, it had just seemed like small things. The occasional falter in an otherwise strong sparrow's flight that caused it to veer off and collide with another, or a captured meal disappearing without a trace.
Over the past few days or so, though, things had been getting worse. The incidents grew more common, and frighteningly more severe. It had actually gotten the point where sparrows' lives were being placed in danger from the effects. The most severe had occurred that morning, when a nest had, apparently without cause, tumbled out of a tree, crashing into the earth far below. Fortunately enough, the mated pair that owned the nest had yet to lay their eggs; however, it had been a very close thing.
This, though, was an entirely new level. This had people truly frightened, and Wick, for her part, couldn't blame them. She had never mothered any chicks, but she still felt the instinctual terror of the concept of having something that she was responsible for destroyed like that.
The flock remained there for a good while, waiting for some sort of signal for things to be alright again. The female had calmed herself enough now that the males could let her up, and she returned to her nest dejectedly. There, she sat on her two remaining eggs, warming them with her body, and gazed mournfully at the lost egg on the other edge of the nest.
No doubt taking this as their cue, the rest of the sparrows, particularly the ones with eggs of their own to watch over, began departing, in twos and threes back to their own nests. Wick watched for a good long while, unsure of how to act. She wished she could go down and speak with the female, and maybe find some kind of way to make her feel better. However, she knew it was impossible. The mated pair wouldn't want to speak to anybody for a while.
Besides, Wick was a runt. People preferred not to see her at the best of times. Wick joked with Tallow sometimes that they didn't want to have to see that something so profoundly imperfect as her could survive. What she never told Tallow was that sometimes, she said it to herself when she wasn't joking.
Thinking of Tallow, Wick looked around for her friend and Fern, the bird she'd been following. Seeing that none of them were there, she ruffled her feathers up, then glanced in the direction they'd gone. Perhaps she'd better go and check on them.
She spread her wings, and after a quick glance about to reaffirm to herself that she was headed in the same direction as they'd gone, she leapt off from the branch, tucked her feet underneath her, and flapped hard with her small wings. She took off into the night, the light of the moon still guiding her way.
She tried to travel in a mostly straight line, using the position of the stars and the moon above her as her guide. She was somewhat experienced with night flying, and so she was a bit better at keeping her bearings than most.
She flew for perhaps half a minute, not seeing anything, before she pulled up, landing in a branch as she heard something. She cocked her head to the side, and just barely picked up the sound of soft voices. After a few moments, she managed to identify it as Tallow's smooth and comforting tone.
Wick jumped off of her branch, and flapped forward, trying to keep quiet so as not to alarm or interrupt the two of them. She flew in closer to where the voice was coming from, and landed noiselessly on a branch in a nearby tree. She looked about, following the sound, before she caught sight of the two of them on a branch a few feet down.
Tallow was perched, looking over at Fern steadily. The other bird was slumped down, nodding occasionally at Tallow's words. Wick felt only admiration for her friend. She could calm anybody with only a few words. By this point, Fern was probably as relaxed as if she was asleep.
Wick turned, and spread her wings, about to leave the two of them alone. However, something stopped her. It was odd; almost like an invisible line had been tied to her tail and tugged upon. She ruffled herself uncomfortably, and looked around. She wasn't sure what it was.
She scanned the trees, looking for any sign of a predator or anything like that. She found none, but that didn't change her feelings. All she could hear was Tallow's voice, and all she could see was the two birds.
Acting on instincts whose origins she didn't understand, Wick stepped off of her branch, and glided down a few lower. She landed easily, and looked closer at the birds below her. The runt didn't see anything different, but from this distance, she could actually make out some of Tallow's words.
"...and that's all you have to do... you want to do it... it feels so good to do it... just listening to me say it feels good, doesn't it..."
Wick fidgeted slightly, listening to the voice. Yes, it was definitely Tallow's but it was different from usual; as though its softness had taken on a supernatural air. And those words... what were they talking about down there? For some reason, the phrasing, the tone... it was stirring something in Wick's chest. Something alien, but frighteningly familiar.
Hesitantly, she went down to a branch that was yet closer. For some reason she didn't understand, she decided to angle herself so that she landed so that Tallow's back was facing her. She crept along the branch, and looked over to Fern. The other bird's face was still obscured by Tallow's, and so Wick kept moving forward, listening to her friend's voice.
"...obeying my words will make you feel so good... and besides, it's what you really want to do... now, tell me, what are you going to do?"
For a few moments, Fern was silent. Wick was still creeping forward along her branch, trying to catch sight of the bird's face when her beak parted, and she spoke.
"Tomorrow night, I will wait until my mate is asleep. I will tell him that I will watch the eggs."
Wick shuddered upon hearing her voice; it was toneless, and came out in rigid, slanted words. She took a few more steps, and then froze, seeing Fern's face. Everything was normal, but for her eyes. They were cold and expressionless, showing no emotion or thought as she finished speaking.
"I will peck my mate's throat open, and then awake and remember nothing."
Wick felt her beak drop open in horror, even as beneath her, Tallow spoke.
"Excellent."
Wick was silent as Tallow began speaking again. Aburptly, she knew that this was not something she should have seen. She began backing up, ignoring that feeling in her chest, the one drawing her to the voice. However, when she did, she brushed against a small twig sticking off of the main branch. It snapped off, and the sound was deafening in the otherwise silent night.
Tallow's head craned around, and glared up at Wick. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, neither one able to speak, both searching for words. The runt almost felt as if she'd lost her name until the other spoke.
"Wick."
Immediately, Wick jumped back, adrenaline jumping through her veins. She turned sharply, and flared her wings out, preparing to flee.
"Wait."
Wick stopped dead, her wings still raised. Her mind was yelling at her to flap, and to escape. However, for whatever reason, she couldn't do it. She remained where she was, frozen in place, even as she heard the soft beat of wings as Tallow flew up. She felt her branch bob a bit as the larger bird landed just behind her, but still she didn't move.
"You can look at me, you know."
Wick turned, and faced Tallow, her eyes wide, her entire body trembling. Tallow had an odd look in her eyes; it was an almost resigned regret, as much annoyed as it was surprised.
"So you saw?"
Wick stammered for a few moments. Then, she spoke very quickly. "No!" At a look from the larger bird, she went on. "Well, I did, but only a bit! And I'm sure I heard wrong, or that there was more of it that I missed, and it's not what it sounded like!"
"It was exactly what it sounded like," Tallow replied coolly, sending a shiver up Wick's back. Almost casually, the larger bird went on. "I just told Fern to kill her mate."
Wick stared at her, terrified. When she finally spoke, her beak felt dry. "Will she do it?"
"I expect so. All of the others have done what I've told them so far. Even that one tonight. I felt for sure that she would never go through with destroying one of her own eggs, but she took remarkably little convincing."
"What?"
"Maybe I should try her again when one of the remaining eggs has hatched... give her a hatchling to try..."
"What are you talking about?" Wick finally screeched, actually managing to lift a foot and take a step back from her friend. "What are you... why..."
Tallow cocked her head to the side as she looked at Wick for a few long seconds. When she spoke, her voice was odd; it was calm, but there was a fire simmering just beneath its surface. "Do you remember Pin, my mate? A strong sparrow; I was proud to have him as my mate. We finished building our nest before anybody else this year. But that night, when he was going to sire our children, something happened. Something came into our nest. It was quiet; we didn't hear it until its mouth was already halfway closed around Pin. He didn't even scream. When those teeth entered him, he was quiet.
"I was too scared to run. When the monster finished swallowing Pin, it just looked at me. I looked into its eyes, and I saw something. I saw the world as it saw it; as it saw me. I saw cold survival and power. The need to dominate others for its own survival. If it wanted to, it could have ended me there. But it didn't. It didn't have to. It had only killed Pin because it needed something to survive, and so it left me there, indifferent to my feelings.
"So... I followed it. I watched it hunt. It could barely move. No wings, not even any legs. Just scales, and those horrible, beautiful eyes. And that was all it needed. It looked at its prey, and the prey knew what would come.
"And watching it... I learned. Not only how it did that with its eyes, but how it lived. It showed me that life is nothing but the struggle to survive. The relationships we throw up are meaningless.
"As proof of this, when I returned, weeks after Pin and I had disappeared, none of you had come out looking for us. Our disappearance meant nothing; my reappearance little more. However, all of you still acted like it meant something... like all these relationships between people meant something."
Wick stared at Tallow, her throat dry. She didn't know why, but she couldn't look away from the other bird. It was like something was physically holding her in place. However, she knew that that wasn't true. She could walk away at any moment. Instead of doing that, though, she managed to find her breath, then spoke, "Then why are you doing this?"
Tallow looked a bit surprised by the question. Then, she leaned in closer, and spoke. "Why, I would have expected that somebody like you, a runt, would understand better than anybody, Wick. I'm showing everybody how meaningless these relationships are to all of us. It's one of the things I've learned from watching the monster: you can't force somebody to do something they don't, on some level, want to do. If I asked somebody to cause themselves great pain, they wouldn't do it." An odd look crossed her face. "I've tried. But hurting somebody they 'love'? Then, there's little enough resistance."
Wick stared at the larger bird, horrified by the idea. Then, at length, she murmured, "Then... then what about me?"
Tallow's look turned to one of mad glee as she nodded at Wick. "There's the question I wanted to hear. What about you? Well, what use could you have for my little mission of proof here? You don't have any relationships within this flock. What purpose could you serve?"
"I have relationships!" Wick exclaimed, to which Tallow cocked an eye. "I have family in the flock, and I care for them! Besides, I care about the entire flock. They matter to me."
"Do they?" Tallow stepped in closer. Suddenly, she tilted her head slightly, and Wick gasped as she saw the light of the moon reflected in them. That light shone directly into the runt's eyes, making her stare. For whatever reason, she couldn't look away. She just had to focus, to watch the beautiful lights... to pay attention... to look deeper...
"You're an interesting one, Wick. My favourite case so far. You see, you think you care about the flock, don't you? Well, if you cared about the flock so much, then you would probably want to tell them about this conversation we just had, wouldn't you?"
"I... yes. I would." Wick's voice sounded dull, even to her own ears. However, she ignored this oddness, instead focusing on those beautiful, sparkling eyes, and the soft voice coming from beneath them.
"Not telling the flock would mean that the people you care about would keep getting hurt... would keep hurting each other... would keep living in fear..."
"Yes, it would."
"Excellent... now, let's test how much you care about them, shall we, Wick?"
Wick was quiet for a few long moments. She was too busy staring into those eyes, getting lost in the light and depth. "Alright."
In front of her Tallow licked her lips. Then, she spoke, her voice soft as she bore forward, pressing against the other bird's defences. "In that case... Wick, I want you to never tell anybody what we just talked about. I want you to keep quiet. I want you to forget that we even had this conversation, so I can keep doing what I'm doing."
"...forget?"
"Yes. Forget, Wick. Forget everything."