Horrifically Lovely Short Stories and Poems

A Warning from Death

The first thing he saw when he woke up was dirt. The first thing he felt was the cold, a could that ran so deep, he could feel it in his bones.

The first thing he touched was the course roughness of the ground. His fingers were entangled within the grass as if he had been dragged.

His first brief movement was stiff testing of his arms. A creaking motion to see if they would be able to support his weight. He couldn't tell, he was just too cold, too numb, too...dead. Slowly, as if supported by the legs of a newborn foal, he rose onto his arms. He had been lying face-first on the ground, with his head cocked to the side. He turned over onto his back, gauging where the hell he was. All he could see was the cloudy baby blue sky. On the horizon were skyscraper trees, fuzzy forest green to his foggy head. And then he heard his first sound. A soft cawing coming from the dense forest. The cawing slowly increased in volume as he caught sight of the animal making the sound. It was a huge black bird, with beady midnight eyes. It was... a crow... wait no. A raven. It was too big to be an ordinary crow and its feathers were too pristine and glossy to be a crow.

A croaking caw came from the right of him, startling him out of his daze. He jumped to the left, his breathing increasing to small short gasping huffs. He could see his breath materializing in front of him, his lips slowly going numb. The raven hopped onto his chest, staring curiously into his eyes with its emotionless black ones. More cawing came from the forest as more black blobs flew towards him. His hands were shaking as his heart beats wildly out of his chest. What's happening... he feels as though he can't move, as if his whole body is frozen in time as the cawing comes closer and closer.

The raven on his chest crept towards his face. It's now at his throat, its head smack in front of his face. A gunshot resounds in the distance as the raven suddenly drives its beak through his right eye. A shriek resounds through the forest startling all of the other ravens closer. The shriek is coming from the man. He can't see out of his eye, blinded by pain. He can feel a liquid slowly travel down the length of his face. He lifts his unfeeling dead hand to his face. He touches the liquid and lifts his hand up to his only seeing eye. His hand is stained scarlet. It was blood. The raven had blinded him. The cawing grew steadily closer and the man notices that now he is completely surrounded. He can't move his body as he feels harsh beaks tearing through his ice-cold skin. Wetness coats his body as he lays there numb, slowly being torn to death. His vision completely vanishes, as he loses his other eye.

And everything... fades...to...black.