For once Davit had no clue what he was doing.
Maybe it was just the blood-lust that roiled in his veins, or maybe he was just hankering for intestines... yet he'd never actually killed someone before. Yes, he'd swapped many-a-fellow's eyes, but blindness did not coincide with death.
Davit took in the scene before him, the one he created. A pool of blood amassed around his talons, temporarily staining them with regret.
He shook his head to rid his beak of any leftover viscera. The dead carcass of a middle-aged woman lay spread out across the grass. Crickets chirped out a cacophonous melody in the night, the moon illuminating the inextricable, maimed intestines on the ground.
"Marie?" a baritone voiced called out. Fear, confusion, sorrow, and a million other emotions that Davit couldn't decipher dripped from the man's voice.
"Marie!" he shrieked as he collapsed onto his knees beside the corpse of his lover. He hadn't noticed Davit yet.
"Stop crying!" Davit yearned to scream. All he could manage was a piercing squawk. After all he was only a bird.
Davit couldn't stand seeing people cry and make their beautiful eyes all ugly. Especially when their eyes were the richest shade of brown he ever did see. So enticing... so irresistible! And after a bit of a squabble, Davit realized that those eyes were also so delicious.
***
When the sun rose again and the non-sociopathic birds harmonized in the trees, Davit was already awake.
He had not slept an ounce, he simply couldn't. He murdered someone the previous night, and that was against his values.
All Davit wanted was for people to see the beauty in others. That's why he swapped eyes.
He knew that he created a long-lasting relationship between his victims. They were able to understand the beauty in one another without the aspect of physical beauty to cloud their vision.
So what if all of his victims either committed suicide or suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder? He was making the world a better place.
"Look, mummy! A birdie!"
The mother gave a slantwise glance at Davit and rolled her hazel eyes.
"That's great, Hunter. You see birds everyday," she snapped, tugging on the boy's arm. "We have places to be, we shan't waste our time bird-watching."
"But-"
"No buts!"
Hunter hung his head in shame, blonde locks falling in his big, round eyes.
Davit narrowed his eyes at the woman, his fury raging yellow as his pupils dilated. An urge came upon Davit, shooting through his veins and propelling him off the branch on which he was perched.
His claws entangled in the mother's curls and he pulled her backwards. She let out a screech, but Davit was too quick. He set to work within seconds.
Hunter clapped and cheered as the hawk attacked his mom. Hunter had a fondness of birds.
After a few carnage-filled minutes, Davit completed his masterpiece. The woman's eyes were where her ears used to be and vice versa. Davit ripped out her tongue and stuck it in the gaping hole which previously brandished her crooked nose. Where was her nose? Well of course where her mouth had been.
A park ranger came sprinting up to Davit, gun unholstered.
"I heard a scream, is everything okay ma'am? Oh mylanta! Wh-what?"
The officer's bottom lip quivered as he bent down to examine the body. Mrs. Allen was still alive, wasting her last energy on crying.
"Are you crying urine...?" the man inquired.
"Yes she is, isn't it wonderful?!" Davit thought. "I am an artist."
The officer stood up, his eyes locked on Davit's.
He radioed for back up. This was the bird. In the past few weeks, there had been numerous reports of horrid assault. Victims always said something about a bird, and now the puzzle pieces were clicking. What a reward he would receive for catching the blasted bird!
Davit could sense the avarice swelling in the ranger; however, Davit decided to let greed tarnish this man like it already did to the rest of the world.
He flew away with ease, and the sound of the officer's disappointed shouts inundated his skull. Was Davit really such a criminal? He was changing the world!
Davit peered behind him to see Hunter sobbing grossly. Not for the loss of his mother, but of his only true friend.
