Bird couldn’t handle another minute of that party. He had already experienced his fair share of annoying laughs; already consumed one too many finger sandwiches; and had downed one too many glasses of soda that he knew had to be spiked, for he had this invigorating buzz that walked hand-in-hand with the worst case of perpetual dizziness he had ever come across. This is why he decided to get some fresh air. To let off some steam. To try to regain soberness before facing the crowd reveling in the festivities. He had noticed several others exit before him, and so he decided to track them down in hopes of sparking conversation with a smaller crowd.
He eventually did find one of them. . .
And someone
else
found him.
Bird chirped a merry little tune through firm lips, his eyes dancing upon the winding cobblestone path ahead of him that lead straight to the olympic-sized pool in the back corner of the mansion. He looked skyward, noticing that the moon was full, and gazed down at him with an eerie blood red hue between the colossal spired towers that loomed above him.
He gasped in surprise as he felt a water droplet hit fall upon his cheek, then another, and another.
he thought silently, tilting his head slowly upward once more. There was not a single cloud in the sky, and yet there were raindrops pelting him at a consistent frequency now. They were warm, and had an oddly powerful iron/salty stench to them.
Funny, this water smells a lot like . . .
Bird’s nostrils flared and his stomach contorted in a sudden pang of nausea. The aroma that wafted lazily about him was absolutely repulsive, yet the droplets continued to attack his person. Many fell onto his face, and he slowly brought a hand to his cheek to wipe them away.
His hands were smeared with a thick, sticky, and dark red liquid.
It WAS blood, and it was flowing like a river’s tributary. Bird HATED blood, and the queasy sensation that ran up his spine and built up in his gut continued to slosh back and forth.
Where is this coming from?
[/i]
And then he saw them. The strands of tissue and muscle; the stomach and the kidneys. They were flattened, and acids continued to sizzle on the cobbles. Bird doubled backward, turning to flee and to find the group to inform them of this atrocity, but his mind told him to look up yet again. It was then that he saw him. Impaled on the spire, blood continuing to gush upward like small fountains before raining down upon him.
Bird’s eyes burned, becoming moist with both tears and droplets of blood that fell into them. He knelt in a fetal position, wheezing in fright, trying to erase the horrific sight he had just seen from his mind.
He had to do something. He had to tell the group. He had to act fast before . . .
Before whoever did this to Litral acted again.
He opened his eyes, and turned on his heel to run, but ran directly into a figure.
Kloud
.
he yelled.
“Look, it’s Litral! I just found him. He’s dead! Dead, dead, dead. Ohhh!”
he cried. He heard the body sliding further down the spire, and more organs tumbled out. This was just too much for him to bear. He screamed at the top of his lungs, jumped up, and began to sprint past Kloud.
“We have to get out of here! I have to get out of here! Run, before whoever did this finds us and does the same!
Kloud remained motionless as Bird advanced closer and closer. Then, with the slightest movement, stuck his foot out directly in Bird’s path. Bird did not notice, and tripped right over his foot, falling once more to the cobblestones with a grunt.
“I am sorry, Bird, but I can’t have you doing that. Not now. Not ever. You have seen what ought not have been discovered. I had planned to stop, but you have given me no choice.”
Understanding hit Bird like a Mac Truck, and was reenforced by the solid blow to the side of his head dealt by Kloud.
“NOOOO!! Please, I promise! I won’t speak a word! I SWEAR it! I will be loyal to you! I will do the work for you. Just, PLEASE don’t kill me. PLEASE!
Bird flailed on the ground as Kloud drew closer, a butter knife in hand. Panic set in, and he continued to shriek at the top of his lungs. He skidded backward shrieking and bellowing, but then Bird thought that Kloud was just tying to give him a scare. After all, what was he going to do with a
butter knife
? Not much.
“Oh! Okay, I get it. You were just joking around. You got me!”
“This is no joke. You are about to die, because of your loud mouth.
Bird barely had time to emit a nervous chuckle from his lips before Kloud pounced, butter knife in hand. Kloud kicked his victim repeatedly, before falling upon his chest, knees first. Bird gasped and cried out more, screeching as only a helpless victim could. Kloud brought the knife closer, closer, closer to Bird’s mouth, and jammed it in.
Bird’s cries were muffled as his tongue grazed against the blunt blade. He could taste the metal, could taste the rust. Kloud was just joking, and Bird knew it. But this thought soon changed as Kloud began to saw away at his tongue, drawing blood at a rapid pace.
Things then turned completely around, and Bird began to struggle against his attacker, but to no avail. With his free hand, Kloud stoically pulled another knife from his pocket.
The knife that slew Litral, blood dripping from the blade
.
Kloud jammed the blade into Birds flanks, then continued to stab as he sawed with his other hand at Bird’s tongue. Kloud could feel the struggler beneath him begin to weaken, his grip loosening as he continued to stab. Pulling the dull butter knife from Bird’s mouth, he thrust the second blade in and swiftly a good portion of his tongue straight off. Blood gushed outward, spraying Kloud in the face as he proceeded to shove the tongue into Bird’s throat where it remained logged. The helpless victim beneath him gagged, choking, suffocating on his own severed tongue.
“You have been much too loud for my liking, and now you will, ironically, be forever silenced by one of the things that allowed you to speak all these years.
Bird’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he stopped breathing. Blood began to pool within his mouth, the meaty tongue preventing access to his throat. Bird’s pulse slowly began to die out and, before Kloud had a chance to savor his kill, Bird lay motionless and dead beneath him.
Bird1111 choked on his own severed tongue
