Sick Bird (Completed)

Nest

Scar pov:

The attic library, nestled high in the rafters, was a cozy sanctuary that seemed to breathe with life and comfort. The space, once a grand Victorian library, was now being lovingly transformed into a beachfront bookstore, and up here in the attic, it felt like a hidden haven. The soft humming of an old TV set in the rafters created a nostalgic backdrop, blending with the gentle, rhythmic crash of waves against the nearby shore. Occasionally, the distant murmur of people chatting outside the window reached me, adding a touch of life beyond the cozy confines of the room.

The fading light of the setting sun streamed through the stained glass window, casting colorful patterns that shifted and danced across the room. Tiny rainbows played over the old carpet and scattered trinkets, their movement a delicate interplay with the soft, flickering glow of fairy lights strung throughout. The air was filled with the comforting scent of aged paper and worn carpet, enhancing the room’s snug ambiance.

Blankets and pillows were strewn about, creating a nest-like comfort that seemed to invite relaxation. Each soft rustle of the blankets and the gentle flutter of the pillows, stirred by a slight breeze filtering through the eaves, added to the room’s sense of tranquility. The intricate carvings and remnants of old architecture, preserved and repurposed, fascinated me as the shifting light brought their details into sharp relief.

Despite the warmth and coziness, a subtle sense of being watched lingered in the background. Engravings of eyes, reminiscent of those from the egg cave, were scattered around the room, their watchful gaze a constant, eerie presence. Though Mumbo and Grian were asleep, their presence felt like a distant echo, as if their quiet breaths were a counterpoint to the pervasive, watchful gaze of the eyes.

The gentle creak of old wooden beams and the soft rustle of pages from the nearby books blended with the soothing sounds from outside. The ebb and flow of the ocean tide, the flicker of fairy lights, and the delicate dance of rainbows created a mesmerizing atmosphere. Yet, beneath this serene environment lay a subtle tension that grew more pronounced.

My skin crawled as I noticed one of the engravings subtly shift. It shouldn't have moved; it was supposed to be a static watchful gaze. But now, it felt like whoever was watching me was actively tracking my movements. My heart raced, and I stumbled back in sudden alarm. In my haste, I stepped on a particularly loud creaking floorboard. The sharp sound shattered the calm, echoing through the attic and, it seemed, waking up the two figures resting within the nest.

The once-peaceful ambiance of the library now carried a jarring edge, the room's enchantment overshadowed by an unsettling awareness of being watched and the rising tension of disturbed slumber. I heard a confused chirp, and I knew it was Poultry Man, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the shifting engraving, fearful it would change again.

"Scar?" The sleepy voice broke through my anxiety as Poultry Man, still groggy, made his way over to me. "G... They moved. That engraving moved the—"

I couldn't bring myself to look away, but I saw the engravings vanish the moment he approached, making me feel as if I were losing my grip on reality. I glanced at him and saw the pale shock on his face. It was clear he had seen something; his reaction confirmed it.

Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed my hand. As he closed his eyes and focused, the engravings reappeared, their watchful gaze settling back into place. The weight of my fear seemed to lift as he held onto my hand, and after a few seconds, a strange sense of lightness washed over me, as if whatever he had done had eased a burden I hadn't even fully recognized.

"Hm, interesting," he murmured, turning his head slightly and yawning before adding, "Too tired to trace it." He glanced at me, then out the window as if weighing his next words. "Come back to bed, please," he said softly, his eyes pleading. He gently tugged on my hand, and though it was getting close to the time for my heroic patrol, his adorableness and the sight of Mumbo comfortably settled in the nest made it hard to resist.