| Fiction |
| December 2007 |
| The Crow's Cry |
| By: Austin Rogers |
| EDITOR'S NOTE: This story, by newcomer Austin Rogers is a really great, Stoker-esque take on vampires. |
| Dear Family, I write this now feeling fear, sadness and a sense of purpose. The purpose is to protect you from what I fear, and what causes my fear is something that I was beginning to think was a dream now in my old age. I say sadness because I may not return. Son, I am very proud of you and your family. You have a wife that is strong and true just like your dear mother, God rest her soul. And your children (I do this especially for them) will grow up to be fine, good-natured adults. I love you all very dearly. As you know, the Collins boy, Jacob, has been missing for three days now and the search parties have found nothing. They say that a wolf has gotten the boy, but I know that it is much worse. I say this because little Sarah Dandory said she saw Jacob go over the outer fence and into the woods, following a crow. You know very well how much I hate and fear crows, but your mother and I never had the courage to tell you why. I now struggle to find the calmness of a steady hand to write of the events that have shaped my nightmares. Today our colony is fourteen families strong, and all good people. I remember when it was only three families: your mother’s, mine and Caleb’s. Caleb. I have not written or spoken of his name since before your mother and I married. Caleb and I were best friends and your mother was there too, but like all boys of the age of ten, we feared we would fall over dead from some illness if we played with girls. One day, Caleb and I were playing near the woods. A silly game of jumping, rolling and hiding that was interrupted by the cry of a crow. Of course we were irritated that the crow would dare bother us during our game, but irritation turned to curiosity. You see, the crow’s constant cries became words, words that seemed to come from within myself. I cannot remember what words were said; only that it was what I wanted to hear. The crow then began to play with us, hopping around and flapping its wings as if daring us to chase it. Every time we got close enough to grab him, he would be ten or fifteen feet away again, but always moving closer to the woods. Everything began to slowly fade to white. The trees, grass and sky: all still there for the eye to see, just without color, except for the crow, Caleb and me. All I could hear were the words and all I could do was follow the crow, with his playful movements, always cocking his head back to see us pursue him. I remember wanting to speak to Caleb about how strange all this was, but my voice was lost, as if the ability to speak had never existed. All I could do was what I had been doing for I could not remember how long now. The next thing I remember was the crow sitting on a branch of a tree that I could barely make out. Then there she stood, the creature. She had brown hair, fair skin and wore common women’s clothes. Her hazel eyes were the very portrait of peace. Just looking upon her created a sensation I can only describe as a combination of being held by a loved one and tasting honey for the first time. She reminded me of my mother and I felt a longing to go to her, as did Caleb. She had knelt down to his height for a loving embrace. The words sounded sweeter and more soothing now, and I listened with joy as I walked toward them. Then I began to hear something different in the words, something that made the words go away. I suddenly felt tired, weak and the pain of hunger in my stomach. What broke the spell were the shrill screams of Caleb. The colors of the world came back, and at that moment, I wished for the white. This was a dark place of dead things; the air was thick with evil and the smell of hopelessness that made the hair on my neck come alive with fear. I could not move my eyes away from the image of what has haunted me to this very day. She was old, maybe older than time, her hair black, matted with crow feathers and scaly skin the color of dark grey that was barely covered by scraps of filthy cloth. Caleb’ s screaming had stopped. His body twitched in her thin arms and bony hands as she devoured his life from the crook of his neck. Her head slowly raised in my direction. Her eyes were now black orbs that stared through me without emotion, but you could still sense her pleasure in my fear. After what seemed like hours, her blood-soaked mouth slowly became what you could call a smile. Crooked, broken teeth (decorated with my friend’s flesh) made a chilling sound as she clinched her jaw. She made a move towards me so subtle that I might have imagined it, but it sent me running for my life. The sickening sound of her laughing as I was running is something I will never forget. My legs were weak, burning, begging for me to stop my fleeing. I was about to grant their request, but then I looked over my shoulder. There she was, gliding through the tall dark trees, covering in seconds the distance that had taken me painful minutes to accomplish. Her body had changed to something more crow than human. Black feathers covered most of her body now, longer at the forearms that caught the thick air. When gliding was not allowed because of the tighter groups of trees, she slowed to more of a mortal’s pace. New fear and determination drowned out the cries of my legs. The sound of pounding feet, then flapping wings, repeated over and over behind me, always getting closer. Then hope was in sight. A light, not far up ahead, had shown through the trees. As I got closer to my salvation, there was no sound behind me, but I did not dare to look back. I knew she was still there. I could feel the warmth of Caleb’s life being breathed on my neck. As I crossed the threshold from dark to light, it felt as if an illness had been removed. Still running, I looked back at nothing. Her pursuit was over. I had made it a couple hundred more feet before my emotions crashed down on me. My best friend was dead. My normal life had broken beyond repair because of that creature, that witch and her damn crow. I made my way back home to find parents that had feared the worst of me. I told them what had happened, but to them it was the over-imaginative mind of a scared child lost in the woods for three days. The search for Caleb went on for four weeks before his parents gave up. I felt they had resentment towards me for being the survivor rather than their son. After a while the colony started to grow. Father told me not to tell my tale in fear of scaring off new families, so I never did until now. Your mother has known and always believed me since the day I returned from that nightmare. I miss her so much. I do this for her, for you and your family. I’m taking one of the muskets and a hunting knife. I hope to return them to you in a few days, but if I do not, know that I will vanquish her before my last breath leaves me. Good- bye, son. Love, Father |