Matei Stoian, fost elev LLIA
TW: pasaje grafice
In a quaint little village, not too far away from Norwich, there was a bakery known for its kind baker and delicious pastries. I was tasked with investigating a murder in this village, a type of murder that I had never encountered before.
I’d dealt with other homicides during my career so this wasn’t much to worry about. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be on high alert for anything out of place. As I was getting ready to leave the precinct, I bumped into one of my old colleagues from the academy. Although I could’ve conversed with her a bit, I chose not to, for I didn’t want to have any distractions whilst dealing with the current case I was working on.
Whilst making my way to the village, I couldn’t help but notice an abundance of crows scattered across one of the fields: thirteen to be exact. Upon entering the village’s premises, I was met with a huge crowd outside of the bakery where the murder had been committed. I slowly made my way through the crowd and to the front door, which to my surprise, was not open. I looked back at the crowd behind me and asked them why they were all gathered outside with the door locked. They answered that, since the village was as small as it was, they all knew everyone as if they were family, therefore when the baker had failed to open the shop for more than a week and a half everyone had panicked, but didn’t dare to go in.
“So, if you haven’t checked, then why did you report a murder…?” I asked curiously.?
An old lady approached the front of the crowd and looked at me with sadness in her eyes.
“Because he never went this long without-” She was cut short by the blood-curdling caws of a flock of crows filling the air.
I looked around for the origin of the cawing and was met yet again with another group of thirteen crows, this time stationed in a dead, old tree outside the bakery.
As I reached for the doorknob and slowly opened the door, I was assaulted by the stomach sickening smell of rotten flesh. I immediately recognized that rancid smell that was filling the air… a corpse.
“Goddammit!” I thought to myself, as I covered my nose and mouth with my shirt.
I found the poor old baker’s body on the kitchen floor, with the kitchen window wide open. His eyes were missing from their sockets, only a dark void remaining.
The blood was drying on the kitchen floor and the loaves of bread that were supposed to be taken out of the oven were still there, but burned and dark, as dark as the baker’s eye sockets.
My eyes were red from all the smoke that filled the room, which had made its way out the door and mixed with the putrid smell of rotten flesh, making the crowd outside disperse.
The baker’s body was greyer than stone and stiffer than wood, half of his skin was picked out clean, down to the bone, not a single drop of blood was spared.
I had the body transferred to the village’s morgue for closer inspection and, yet again, I was met with another group of thirteen crows.
“Guess the village’s name makes more sense now…” I said to myself as I thought of the village’s name: “Crow Valley”.
I left the baker’s body in the morgue for burial and when I got out, I looked around to see if the crows were still present. To my surprise, I saw them there, looking me dead in the eye: I felt a shiver run down my spine.
I lit up a cigarette and started putting the pieces together.
“Why would someone murder a person so kind and innocent like the baker? Who would do such a thing in such a small and remote place like this village, where everybody knows everybody?” These questions flooded my mind, but it wasn’t just me that started questioning everything. In the short time that the body was found, so many rumours began flying around.
That’s when a crow landed on my left shoulder. I froze for a solid second and then resumed my patrol. Not long after, I noticed that the village was silent… far too silent.
After shaking it off, I stumbled upon a very dark crimson trail that led to the centre of the town…it was blood. I quickly followed the trail and that’s when I found before me thirteen groups of thirteen crows and behind them the townspeople slaughtered…my blood froze in my veins, my cigarette fell out of my mouth and I could only muster one word.
“Shit…”
In that instant, the crow on my shoulder turned its head towards me. I remember the last thing I thought about was that encounter with the old colleague of mine… my wife, however that thought was swiftly interrupted by the ear-piercing shriek of the crows.
The last thing I saw was that all the 169 crows had formed a cyclone around me and were preparing to dive.
I woke up in the hospital three weeks later. My left arm was missing: the flesh was picked out clean, down to the bone.
My wife was next to me, sleeping, her head resting on the hospital bed. Soon after, I heard a faint tapping and I turned my head towards the origin of the sound: the window. My eyes widened with horror and fear as I a crow looked me dead in the eye.
End.