Page 8 of Veil of Death and Shadow

Sitting in my lap, looking inconspicuous and not at all like it was trying to murder me, was a small, shiny stone.

I glanced up just in time to duck away as another pebble came spiraling towards me.

A crow swooped into sight, its beak stuffed with a small bundle of twigs and rocks.

With a loud caw, the bird opened its mouth, dropping the mess unceremoniously onto my head.

“Ow, what the fuck?” I shifted, ignoring the soft tearing sound as another thorn scraped and tugged at my jacket, the bush reluctant to release me from its grip.

I stood up too quickly though and had to grab onto the closest tree as my body fought to bring me back down to a lower center of gravity.

I’d passed out and apparently woken up inside a fucking murder forest.

My head rang and ached with an unrelenting pressure I’d never experienced before.

A wad of grass sprinkled down around me, like I was stuck in a fucked-up snow globe.

A quick glance revealed the culprit—the crow was back, its beak half-full of foliage that it casually peppered over me.

“Stop being a fucking menace.” I groaned, dodging his talons when he swooped down low.

What was I doing here? How had I even gotten here in the first place?

My memory was watery and murky, disappearing into a distorted pool each time I tried to grab hold.

I reached for my phone out of habit but found only the black screen of judgment—and my own withered expression—staring back at me.

No charge. Great.

There was a soft whir that grew louder, and I jumped when the crow hopped on my shoulder, its wings flapping chaotically as they tangled in my hair.

I let out an embarrassing squeal and then froze as its beak poked awkwardly through the thick, knotted strands of my hair, not entirely sure what to do.

I tried swatting him away, but that seemed to only further piss him off, burying him deeper into my hair, his beak scratching at the base of my skull with the promise of vengeance.

“Um,” I said, straining my neck as I tried to lean away from it. “Nice bird.” I cleared my throat, my mouth suddenly impossibly dry at the possibility that this little shit might try giving me a lobotomy at any second. “Please don’t eat me. I’m sorry I called you a menace. I’m sure as far as crows go, you’re actually very lovely.”

The bird tugged, and I winced, preparing for the worst, but he merely pulled out a stray twig and spat it down on the ground.

Was this violent little fuckergroomingme?

My body relaxed slightly, as he found a few more bits of foliage and removed them.

I shrugged awkwardly, hoping that might encourage him to fly away, but he only seemed to plant his feet more firmly, cawing loudly in my ear as if in rebuke.

Right. Totally normal.

I didn’t at all feel like some discount fairytale’s new gothic princess.

I glanced around, half-expecting someone to jump out of the trees and claim their rabid bird.

As if reading my mind, the bird sprang from my shoulder, its flight path to the ground a little rough and rocky.

Slowly, I took a few steps back, hands held up in surrender. “Good bird. You stay here. I’ll get out of your hair—” I grimaced “—er, feathers, I mean.”

A twig cracked beneath my boot, and the crow whirled around, something gleaming in its beak as it squawked again.

Without another warning, it rushed forward in the air, heading straight towards my face—murder gleaming in its beady little eyes

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