Posted in 2017, Contemporary, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery, Remember...?, Writing

Remember…? Chapter 3: Blackbird

Rowan Winters stifled a scream. She did not want to startle the neighbours. It was still early in the morning and she had planned to get to her office before the morning rush. She was not a person who enjoyed crowds, not after all she had seen. She took a few deep breaths and though she was still shaking uncontrollably she inspected the scene.

The bird was small with bluish black feathers. Its beak was long and orange. Its glazed over eyes were dark and surrounded by orange rings. There was no mistake about it. This was a blackbird.

She then went to the note. She couldn’t use her power on any animal, insect, or plant. This made it so she couldn’t find out everything about a person just by shaking a hand, but if she touched something like a ring she would at least know everything the object witnessed. Not that she would ever do that. She found it far too unsettling and creepy to do.

She couldn’t use her power on the paper, but at least she could use the ink if it wasn’t blood.

She touched the ink and closed her eyes. Everything that had happened around the ink ever since it was first made filled her mind. She looked at one of the more recent memories, one from before it had been taped to her door.

A strange person stood over the piece of paper. He was tall, very tall and wore a black hooded cloak that reminded her of a drawing of the grim reaper. His hood covered his face from the ink as he wrote. His fingers appeared to end in long metallic claws. While he wrote, he spoke.

“Stay away Demivma if you do not want to be mixed up in this. The others may see you as Kápoios pou thymátai but I do not. You are nothing but a Demivma. If you step a foot within Pouthena I will be forced to perform my duty. This is your final warning.”

Rowan found herself pulling her hand away from the note. Never before had someone spoken to her directly through the memories. It felt so strange, but it also felt completely natural to her. She stood there for a moment staring at the note. Who was the man who had written it?

“Hello.” Someone nearby said. “Are you alright?”

One of Rowan’s neighbours stuck her head out of her own door. It was Mary, the kind lady who always seemed to have her grandkids over. They were nice kids. Rowan stared at the other woman with a pained expression on her face.

“Sorry I heard a small commotion. Why are you still here? Wouldn’t you have normally left for work by now?”

Mary stepped out of her room and stopped. Her eyes passing over the small bird in horror.

“Oh… Oh my goodness!” she covered her mouth in horror.

“It was probably just some teenagers trying to be funny.” Rowan urged her neighbour. “There is nothing to get worked up over.”

“I’m… I’m calling the police.” Mary ran into her apartment. Rowan could hear dialing sounds coming from within.

“No don’t. Wait!”

But it was too late. The police were now coming and Rowan was forced to stay in the apartment building waiting for them to arrive.


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