Page 4 of Tormented By Regret

You're afraid. The raven’s voice continued, accusatory and piercing.

I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting back tears of frustration. "I am not afraid. Especially not of you."

You're lying to yourself. The raven insisted, its tone relentless. You're afraid of what you might become. Afraid of losing control.

“Fuck that,” I responded, concentrating until I was drowning in the sound of my heartbeat.

In the undertone I heard the raven once more. Fear will only hold you back, Whisper. Face it and embrace your true nature, only then will you find the strength to control it.

I ignored it, instead reaching deep inside and I embraced what I knew, darkness and courage. With each beat of my heart, the sensation grew stronger, building to a crescendo that consumed me entirely. And then, with a rush of feathers and a surge of power, I felt my body begin to shift. Slowly at first, then all at once. I screamed as my body reshaped itself, the breaking and shifting of bones echoed in the silent forest. The raven was pissed as its feathers erupted from my skin, unfurling like dark wings, tearing my arms open as my fingers fused together to form sharp talons. My face stretched and sharpened into a sleek beak and I I felt the rush of air whoosh out of me like a punch in the gut as the raven took over, moving me aside.

Through it all, there was a strange sense of detachment, as if I were watching myself from afar while being ripped apart and then put together. And for a moment, I teetered on the edge of existence, straddling the line between human and raven. And then a new feeling takes over, one that’s addictive and I keep myself from allowing it to devour me whole because if I do, I'm afraid the raven will never let me return. It’s a freeing feeling, one that made me feel more alive than ever, every nerve and fiber of my being thrumming with raw energy. With a final surge of power, the transformation is completed, and I stand before the clearing, not as Whisper, but as the raven.

I stretched my wings, feeling the freedom and power that came with my new form and I let out a frustrated, sad cry, the sound echoing through the night sky in a screeching caw. I allowed the beast to take over, lifting me off the ground and soaring us through the sky. This wasn’t my true nature, I refused to believe it, and yet it was all I ever knew. A secret that could ruin me, chain me to something I never wanted, and I refused to give into that.

My parents always drilled it into me, that if anyone found this secret, it could destroy me. My brother Ethan, you know him as Macabre, Jameson, and my Uncle Beau, better known as Kingpin, were the only souls who knew my secret. I lived my life as a hermit, and I was well taught by my father on how to become a ghost. He and my brother both taught me how to handle a weapon and I was a good shot. I didn’t need anyone to protect me, even though Ethan didn’t understand me, I was protecting him too. No one realized I would rather live my life alone, bear this curse alone, than let anyone into my world. They’d chain me up, dissect me, or even worse-hold me captive in a cage so that I could never fly again.

I flew high over the city, the wind billowing my feathers, and my eyes blurred as unshed tears formed. The raven's power rippled through me, and I felt its comfort. As much as I hated it, it was only being who understood just how sad I had become.

POWERTRAIN

Ifired ten consecutive rounds, one after the other, letting off all the built-up stress of the week. The sound of the gun fire was muffled by the canceling noise headphones I wore while at the range.

As I set the gun down to reload, Tik Tok’s head appeared around the screen. He gestured over to the window where Macabre was standing, staring at us with that Eastwood squint he had naturally perfected. His stance was wide, arms crossed over his chest, and he looked like he had a lot on his mind. At the same time, his look worried me, because I was the one he came to talk to.

I made sure to put my weapons away and took my headphones off as I stepped out into the hall. Tik Tok continued his stress release leaving us to it.

“Brother,” Macabre gave me a quick nod.

“Brother,” I responded, saying the word carefully. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

“When do you leave for your run?” He asked, cutting to the chase, which was nothing new for Macabre. He never was much of a talker.

“I’m thinking tomorrow tonight, before the fucker starts getting word and starts to move.”

He nodded in agreement. I had to collect money from one of our businesses up in Shreveport. The manager hadn’t paid up and Jameson wasn’t waiting anymore.

“Jameson mentioned a package you needed to pick up on the way back.”

“That’s right. He said you were giving me details.”

“The package is a little out of your way at the moment.”

“First off, what the hell is the package?”

“My younger sister. Whisper.”

I blinked twice as I looked at him. “The package is your sister?”

“That’s right. And she’s not where I fucking left her.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She was taking care of my dad’s properties up near Shreveport, but I just got word she flew off last night,” he raised an arm in exasperation, placing it back on his hip as he started to pace. It was amusing seeing Macabre disgruntled, but siblings could do that to you. I also thought his choice of words odd, as if she were some bird of flight that flew off in the distance. It caught me off guard.

I quietly watched him pace until he finally turned to me. “She’s got to be halfway to Washington state by now.”

“Why Washington?”

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