Your uncle never mentioned that he had a parrot in his bedroom any time while he was alive. The cage seemed as utterly out of place as the bird itself in his run down home. If the secret parrot wasn't strange enough, he'd included it the day before he died alone in his back garden. The official cause of death was an animal attack but they never said what kind of animal. "Something wild, that's for sure." was as detailed as they got.
The cage was truly unique, the bars were made of an almost rubbery substance, warm and grey like a fresh bruise. It looked like one of those old-timey cartoon birdcages, the bell shaped ones that housed tiny little budgies and now barely housed a 40 inch tall parrot. It seemed happy enough in there but oddly silent for a parrot, the species widely renown for their ability to mimic and repeat whatever they were taught. And now it was yours.
There were a few sheets of care notes to go alongside it, starting normal and ending with some kind of warning. Was your uncle sane in his last few days? After he'd made detailed notes about the usual food routine he quickly turned to cleaning, or rather a lack thereof. His instructions specified to never open the cage, never keep the cage near to you for prolonged periods of time, never try to remove the parrot from the cage just leave them be in a separate room and you might be okay.
He never said what would happen if the rules weren't followed or why he'd broken them by keeping the bird right next to hos bed. You soon found out why he suggested locking the bird inside a room as you woke up with the cage right next to your bed, seeming to be tilted towards you, the parrot's black eyes pressed right against the bars trying to be close to you.
You didn't make the same mistake twice, locking and barricading the door from then on, only to hear something turning the doorknob every now and then, testing it before shuffling away. It repeated several times a day and near constantly at night, you began to worry about what you'd let into your home and begged a friend to stay over for the night.
They weren't told the rules, you wondered what would happen to them, too afraid that they'd call you crazy for trying to convince them that the parrot was something unusual and possibly dangerous. When the doorknob began to turn late in the evening your friend opened the door, advising they wanted to comfort the bird and chastising you for neglecting the poor thing.
They then did the unthinkable - they opened the birdcage and let the it hop onto their arm, cooing "who's a nice parrot" to it. The parrot, looking larger than before, tilted its head and said with perfect clarity "Hello, I'm not a parrot." before its beak stretched over its mouth, no longer the hard and sharp mouth of a bird but flexible flesh parting in a large grin that revealed large brown teeth.
Before you open your mouth to scream the parrot-type creature had already opened its own, clamping its teeth down hard on your friend's face. It tore off their nose and a good chunk of the flesh beneath before moving slightly down to tear out their throat before they could properly scream. It fluttered onto the floor as your friend collapsed, gasping into a pool of their own blood before falling silent with a final wet gurgle.
The parrot looked at you and began to walk forward slowly and deliberately.
You wondered how fast it was.
The cage was truly unique, the bars were made of an almost rubbery substance, warm and grey like a fresh bruise. It looked like one of those old-timey cartoon birdcages, the bell shaped ones that housed tiny little budgies and now barely housed a 40 inch tall parrot. It seemed happy enough in there but oddly silent for a parrot, the species widely renown for their ability to mimic and repeat whatever they were taught. And now it was yours.
There were a few sheets of care notes to go alongside it, starting normal and ending with some kind of warning. Was your uncle sane in his last few days? After he'd made detailed notes about the usual food routine he quickly turned to cleaning, or rather a lack thereof. His instructions specified to never open the cage, never keep the cage near to you for prolonged periods of time, never try to remove the parrot from the cage just leave them be in a separate room and you might be okay.
He never said what would happen if the rules weren't followed or why he'd broken them by keeping the bird right next to hos bed. You soon found out why he suggested locking the bird inside a room as you woke up with the cage right next to your bed, seeming to be tilted towards you, the parrot's black eyes pressed right against the bars trying to be close to you.
You didn't make the same mistake twice, locking and barricading the door from then on, only to hear something turning the doorknob every now and then, testing it before shuffling away. It repeated several times a day and near constantly at night, you began to worry about what you'd let into your home and begged a friend to stay over for the night.
They weren't told the rules, you wondered what would happen to them, too afraid that they'd call you crazy for trying to convince them that the parrot was something unusual and possibly dangerous. When the doorknob began to turn late in the evening your friend opened the door, advising they wanted to comfort the bird and chastising you for neglecting the poor thing.
They then did the unthinkable - they opened the birdcage and let the it hop onto their arm, cooing "who's a nice parrot" to it. The parrot, looking larger than before, tilted its head and said with perfect clarity "Hello, I'm not a parrot." before its beak stretched over its mouth, no longer the hard and sharp mouth of a bird but flexible flesh parting in a large grin that revealed large brown teeth.
Before you open your mouth to scream the parrot-type creature had already opened its own, clamping its teeth down hard on your friend's face. It tore off their nose and a good chunk of the flesh beneath before moving slightly down to tear out their throat before they could properly scream. It fluttered onto the floor as your friend collapsed, gasping into a pool of their own blood before falling silent with a final wet gurgle.
The parrot looked at you and began to walk forward slowly and deliberately.
You wondered how fast it was.
No comments:
Post a Comment