The Death of the Wicked

The majestic black feathered bird sat lonely and defeated in his solitary prison looking longingly out of the bars of his tiny cell. The water that the woman brought him was stale and tasted horrible, and his stomach cramped every time he took a drink of the murky and dirty liquid. His black feathery wings once took him far into the heavens, but now his once glossy feathers were found decorating the bottom of his “home” as the thoughtless woman called it.

He cocked his head to one side before nestling it back into his soft black feathers. Raising his voice to caw, he hoped that another raven could hear him and reply. A constant battle brewed inside of his head; did he want to try to communicate with his fellow birds or with each sound did he draw them closer to his unfortunate fate?

His fellow prisoners were various and all just as miserable as he was, and his black midnight eyes looked at them with kindness. Why did this human hate them all so much, he pondered. They weren’t pebbles to be collected and threw away!

Maybe he had done something to deserve this cruel fate, he thought reluctantly. He had never treated one of these creatures in this way, and never would, he vowed.

The door to the living room opened, letting in a strip of sunlight that illuminated the dark and odorous room. He cooed in friendliness, hoping that his kindness would encourage his captor to bring him some fresh water and some food.

“Shut up in there, Midnight!” screamed the dishevelled woman. “I will give you something to caw about if you don’t.”

A knock surprised the grey-haired woman as she slowly trudged to the door to open it.

Opening the heavy oak door just a little, she meekly gave a faint “hello,” to what appeared to be a small child around the age of twelve.

“I heard a raven,” muttered the small human in joyous rapture. She continued with light in her eyes, “I absolutely love ravens,” she said as her eyes darted around looking for the source of the noise. “May I come in?” she questioned as she pushed the door open, walking past the woman.

“Shouldn’t you be with your parents,” quizzed the older woman in an annoyed tone.

“Don’t let my appearance fool you, Ma’am,” she said as she giggled. “I am a thirty-six-year-old attorney."

“My bird cannot be disturbed, you bossy little thing,” shouted the woman, catching the attorney off-guard before she grabbed her tiny wrist tightly in her right hand, causing her arm to throb. “Now, get out of my house,” she bellowed, “before I call the cops.”

The bright-eyed woman’s face grimaced in pain and fear as she screamed, shocked by the woman’s abrupt actions.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” spoke the attorney as her brown eyes began to glow a sinister yellow. “You humans are all the same. You think you can treat living creatures like trash if it suits you. F*ck you!”

The woman took some steps backward as a light shattered overhead, causing sparks to descend onto the ground. Thudding quickly in her chest, her heart felt as if someone was squeezing it. Dropping to the floor, her breath left her in one long rattle.

Victoriously smiling, Persephone headed to the multitude of prison cells, opening the cage door for snakes, birds, puppies, and cats before finally reaching the proud looking raven. Spreading his beautiful wings in an elegant show of gratitude, he bowed graciously as he headed into the frosty air.

Footsteps were heard on the wooden floor as she rushed into his arms before exclaiming, “It was awful, My Love.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, he whispered, “My Little One, you did so well. You were so brave,” before kissing her on the forehead.

“What do I do about the body?” she asked as she looked at the lifeless shell of a woman on the floor.

Waving his hand with a sudden gestor, the corpse vanished from sight.

“I will see her again, no doubt. She won’t like the punishment in my world,” he remarked with an evil grin.