In Death

A freckled-white creature, belonging to the family of Strigidae, swooped to the open window sill with a small prey in its claw. Its prominent face, which appeared to be outlined with a small thin line, resembled a heart-shaped moon. The creature hopped off the window and towards its mate in an awkward walk. The food carried back was intended for its mate that huddled in a small corner of the attic.

The night creature, a loyal, male barn owl, cried gently when it greeted the female barn owl. He left the mouse by her and went back out to hunt again. The female was afraid to expose its perfect-shaped egg to the cool air of the night, but she was hungry. The labor of her love took most of her energy. Reluctant and tired, she stood up, stretched her wings, and went to devour the lifeless mouse. When she was done, she returned to her egg, squatted down and focused on giving warmth to her precious parcel.

Her small, black pool of eyes, which allowed her to see in the dark, turned her head to look back at the window. The moon was full and round, sitting high above to allow light to cascade through the cracks of the attic, leaving her to wonder when the male barn owl will return, for she was getting hungry again.

Although they were not the only predators in the area, they shared it with one that humans did not expect nor believe to exist. Below the attic, another creature of the night rose up to wait for its lover to return. This creature of the night would rise from where she slept, only to find that there was no one left to patronize.

Each night, she would wander out farther and farther from home to find weary travelers to ask if they knew the name of her lover and where he had gone. Most would run off screaming, to which she would chase them down in anger and eat their flesh while they lay alive and powerless.

Some would be so frightened of her and fall dead, making it easy for her to pierce their stomach with her sharp, bony hands, eat their intestines, and find truth in their blood. To her, their blood spoke volumes of a world that changed, but time was irrelevant.

The home she lived in finally bared its bones. The exposed wood beams rotted to a degree of grey that looked brittle. The attic caved in from the pressure of snow that melted away not long ago. The spring air brought clear skies during the day and night. There were no more travelers passing through, and she was starved for peace and answers.

One spring morning, before the sun broke through the horizon, she had returned home with traces of tattered clothes trailing behind her. She was exhausted from her late-night stroll, and her stomach ached from hunger. As usual, before she caved into her sleep, she fell onto her knees where she recalled making promises to her lover before he plunged a knife into her heart.

Memories of her crying shamelessly flooded into her bones before they reached her core. She recalled begging for her lover to stay and telling him that she was with child. His child. She knew she had nothing compared to the woman he was arranged to marry in the village. She offered what she could only promise; a life of love without riches.

He rose to his feet as she kneeled by the hearth of her home. He patted her head with one hand and said he loved her. His eyes were kind and promising that he would stay. To her surprise, he kissed the top of her head and told her he would walk with her, hand in hand to death. She laughed with joy through her tears, misunderstanding his declaration of love.

Before she could get up on her feet to thank him and guarantee her promise, she felt a blow onto her chest. Confused, she looked at his face and then to her bosom, where a knife stood erect. She was shocked and couldn't speak.

She watched as he withdrew the knife and plunged it into her belly, where all unborn babies lain in their mothers' bodies. He did it a few more times and apologized to her as he took his last blow. He helped ease her down to the floor. He prayed for what he had done and began to whisper words in her ear that she would understand his intention.

He was the one now begging, asking her to be at peace. He said he loved her and told her not to become a strigoi. He promised he would return to help put her to rest if she did. He promised.

There were tears in her eyes as she felt life flowing out of her body. She managed to raise her hand, reaching for his face but never did. The only thing she remembered was his promise and kind eyes.

No tears came to her decomposed eyes now, but the pain she endured burned within her soul as she was plagued with having to remember her death every morning and knowing she had to rise each night to forget the truth why she remained.

Before the sun came up, she heard the fluttering of a winged animal from above. Before her eyes closed, she heard the soft, lonely cry of a barn owl.