Feathers That Won't Fly

The First (Prologue)

A book, its case, and a mirror all had to do with the first killing. Now, the book was the primary reason why the victim was at the place he fell. The bookcase was the home for the murderer--temporarily. And lastly, is the very tool which allowed the murder to take place: the mirror. You see, our murderer is not able to kill a being who has not yet seen it. If the victim hasn't seen the murderer, there can be no murder. The first killing went as follows.

The freckled, shaking hands of the old man reached out to grab the last book he would ever lay his hands on. As soon as the freckled hands touched the hard, cool spine of the book, the old man felt a presence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a mirror. The mirror was located on the inside of the bookcase. The old man felt inclined to look closely into this mirror, with the nagging sensation that questioning fear tends to poke at us with. The poking started at his ribs, then his neck, and finally his head. The hands of questioning fear then forced the old man's gaze toward the mirror. This was a cruel, malicious thing for fear to do, because if it hadn't, the old man may have lived a bit longer.

The eyes of the old man opened as far as their age would allow them. In the mirror was a hideous, gray-furred, skinny, ape-like creature. This creature sunk its fangs into the bony shoulder of the old man. With the bite came floods of neurotoxins, paralyzing and silencing the man from screams. The murder was silent to the ears, yet clamorous to the eyes.

Clumps of red, pink, and white guts spilled out, and the creature shoved them into its mouth. The long string of intestines was slurped from start to finish as blood oozed from each corner of the creature's lips. It clawed out the eyes of the old man in a fit of pure hunger. The eyes were then popped into the throat of the creature swiftly and quickly. When it finished eating, it left the bones and retreated back into its bookcase. These bones would be the only evidence that a man had been killed.

Now I must conclude this preface by warning you. I must warn you that you may almost never again be able to tell who is human and who is not, unless I tell you. You may want to keep this in mind for the rest of this book. It will come in handy, trust me. Good luck, you'll need it.