The Crow

chapter 1

"So here’s the thing," says the crow, "if you’ve never heard of me, hear me now. I’m your least expected fortune teller. I’m the one that brings death and despair. Yield to me, so I shall spare you from your doomed fate."
"Foolish," says the human.
"The worst fate has already occurred." He says, not looking at the crow. "Don’t you see? I’m my own doom. Fate can’t even compare."

a dark hallway with windows covered by black curtains. The hall is filled with people; most are on their feet, but some have fallen to the floor. In front of them stands a door that reads ‘Death and Despair.’

He looks back to the human. "What do you mean?"
"I’m just saying,” replies the human, “that there's no way you're getting through this."
The crow tilts his head, and then he laughs. The sound is high pitched and harsh, like broken glass. It echoes off the walls. "Oh dear" it says.

"Why did you call me here anyway?" asks the man, who seems annoyed. He has on thick round glasses that cover most of his eyes, and long hair that falls over half of his face. He’s dressed in an old tattered suit, as if his clothing were once tailored for somebody else; someone better.
The crow shrugs. "I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose," he says, and shrugs again.

"You don't know what you're messing around with. You may think you know what's coming for you but you really don't."
The crow frowns. He feels almost offended.

But then again, when have his words done anyone any good, lately?
The man sighs and rubs his forehead as though trying to relieve some tension. His movements seem slow, like he has all the time in the world, but it is impossible to be sure.

"Alright, alright" he says eventually. "I'll go along with this. What was the price you promised?"

He takes a deep breath before answering. A shiver runs up his spine, and he pulls at the collar of his shirt. He isn’t used to being cold anymore, since the last time he was alive. "A soul"  he says finally.
The human laughs.