The Winged Man
A Tragic Tale of Fear and Persecution
He was born with a pair of wings, but he never had the feeling of being free. He was always hiding, unable to stop running, as many men from his village and other villages across the land were hunting for him. He always knew that he was different from any of the people amongst the vast land, and he could see that these people in villages near and far feared him. To them he was an immortal monster, the freak show created in a laboratory, just a total abomination to mankind. Scientist offering a prodigious reward for whomever captures him. They wanted to study him, to dissect him, to create more of his kind.
He had no name and not another of his kind had ever been seen. Just him and he only had his wings, the sole source of his joy and pain. So grateful to be born with wings, he loved to fly, loved to soar in the sky, and loved to feel the wind ripping through the feathers of his wings. But his hate for his wings was just a strong, on lend he became so enraged. For they made him a target, the prey of mankind, with wings he was a curse. Never able to settle into one place for too long, once he has been found, he'd be chased far far away.
One night, he stumbled upon a deserted cabin, in the woods. He was sure he would soon be able to call this cabin his home. He thought he'd be safe there, as he was finally away from the prying eyes of the world. He decided to rest for a while, after tending to his wounds and his weary soul, he needed to heal. He locked the doors, closed all the windows. and curled up on the cabin floor.
He only woke up when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a man standing over him, holding a gun. The man had the coldest smile on his face. Shimmering gold was a badge on his chest as it passed through the light.
The winged man didn’t hear the footsteps outside or the voices whispering in the dark of the men from many villages. He didn’t see the flashlights shining through the cracks or the shadows moving closer. In such a deep sleep he didn’t notice the lock being picked, the door being opened, losing his life of peace he had been searching for.
A village man said:
“Hello there, winged man. We’ve been looking for you a vey long time. You’re coming with us.”
The winged man, hopped to his feet, then tried to flea, but it was nearly too late.
BANG!
The man pulled the trigger, and the winged man's world turned black.
The End.
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