5

She took me to a dark back room in a rustic and old basement with cracking walls and even some vines and ferns. To my horror, there were cages among cages of birds. The first thing I thought of was how to get them out of here. The locks looked like the old-school rusty metal kind. Cheap and reliable. I looked back at the girl in the white dress's pendant. The locks on the cages were easy enough to trick. A saint compared to modern-day fingerprint or retina scan locks.

'The girl's pendant spike might just be big enough,' I thought to myself.

I had a bobby pin in my hair, but it wouldn't have been nearly big enough of a spike to crack the locks. What it would have a use for is a less noticeable replacement for her pendant. I knew the next part would be embarrassing.

I would want to wait until the last second to steal it from her—less time to be caught.

The birds always group together. Let one out, and it will go straight to the nearest, and or biggest, flock. In other words, let a whole flurry of them, such as they have gathered here, and I can test my theory of whether or not the birds are kidnapping people and who is ordering them too if such an occasion was reality.

I looked at the birds, putting on a questioning face, "the birds won't listen to me if they're underground. Could you possibly bring them to the rooftop?" I said.

"This building is surrounded by other noisy clubs. The birds screeching will be drowned out, so I suppose so," she looked over at some gruff and bulky people standing next to the birds, guarding them. "Could you take them up to the roof? Preferably not going through the nightclub?" they grunted and put in earplugs to indicate a yes.

I needed to hurry this up. The longer I stayed, the more and more of a probability the real Ammialia Creture would find me.

I told the people carrying the cages, "I only need four cages; the rest will follow their example." There were around four birds in each cage, so it would be enough to follow.

After they brought four cages of birds up, it was time for the next step. I needed to let the birds out of the cage.

The wind swept across my face and body. Goosebumps appeared on my arms. In the streets, it was a lovely summer night, with a tad bit of breeze. Upon the rooftops, it was an entirely different story. My skirt rippled and slashed around. It made a cracking sound in the breeze.

"Can you let them out?"

She shook her head, "No, we don't want to run any risk of losing them. Tomorrow, we will need them for the final step." our normal voices we would talk in were a little bit louder because of the ever-constant wind.

'Looks like it was the birds taking them after all…' I thought to myself.

Pulling a bobby pin out of my hair, I looked over at her and hugged her. The bobby pin ready to pin the pieces of clothing quickly in my hand. And the other one, ready to steal the pendant from behind her back.

Walking over to the screeching birds, I looked down at my hand. The spike of the pin had already started to retract. Squats of metal bent over and over again onto itself until there was nothing left but a small square of gold. Like gold aluminum foil. I pressed a black button on the end, and it did the reverse. A long golden needle crossed the main part of the pendant.

The birds screeched more and more as I came closer. My greatest failure was not learning how to control the birds and communicate with them.

The girl in the white dress (standing a noticeable distance away for safety) shouted in my direction, "they don't seem very friendly!"

To which I shouted back, "they never are!"

I started to pick the lock that was at my waist. The other people on top of the building were far enough away to not see me finicking with the lock. I got the feeling they were terrified of the birds.

I mumbled to myself, "I really hope they don't eat me after I let them out," quiet enough so the others couldn't hear me.

They must have thought I was just whispering to them or something else because I got to the fourth cage and was picking the lock when the real Ammialia Creture ran up, out of breath.

One of the worst possible outcomes has come to pass. I quickly started running around and getting the lock off of the birdcages to set them free.

The birds were big. As big as a nine-year-old. They could easily carry a fully grown human.

One lovely bird was on top of the highest crate and started to take off. It was the biggest of the birds and seemed to know where it wanted to go. So I lunged at it in mid-air, a hazardous move. If I fell, I would be a very freeing twenty-meter fall. Then I would become a grease splat on the ground.

When my hands touched the crusty, dirty, feces-covered, sharp feet and latched onto them. I almost let go out of disgust.

Unsurprisingly, the bird didn't seem to mind me clinging to it. It had a one-track mind, after all. Get to the biggest and or closest herd.

BANG…

BANG BANG

They had guns, and regardless of whether or not they hit the birds, they were firing them. One grazed my arm. Blood was splattered in the wind. I braced myself for the wound to sting like hellfire. Yet, from the moment the bullet started to rip my skin to when It finally left, it didn't hurt. It left a leaking creator in my flesh. Slowly contracting more pain. I was filled with so much adrenaline; the wound didn't matter. I could barely feel it with how all my other senses were overwhelmed with the wind, pain, noises, and thoughts.

I tried to become as small as I could while clinging to the bird's feet by curling up into a ball and pulling myself closer to the bird. The birds screeching protest pierced my ears. Its sickly yellow eyes glinted pale green in the moonlight.

We got far enough away, and they finally stopped firing. It was getting harder and harder to hang on. My arms were exhausted from pulling myself up to the bird. If I dropped, it would cause mayhem below, and I would surely die.

'This certainly isn't boring,' I thought to myself, trying my best not to look down.

It took thirty-plus minutes of flying to get to one of the big trees. This tree was leafier than the others. Its leaves were small, stiff, and plentiful. The wind ripped through them, making a sound loud enough to cover thousands of screams. And the leaves held the mystical moonlight in their grasps.

When we got closer, you could hear the screams of the birds and them ravishingly pecking at the bark of the tree. Stripping pieces of fresh and juicy bark from the tree. I let go of the bird's feet and landed heavily on a broad tree branch. The poor tree had been stripped bare from the birds. Tiny specks of, what I assumed to be, blood were randomly splattered on the tree. Feces from the birds splattered on the tree branches, making camouflaged slippery landmines all around.

I looked up at the hundreds of birds, gliding to other branches and eating the bark. "Looks like we have finally gotten to the grand finale of this long story," I mumbled to myself.

Then, I realized I had no idea what to do next. I started to walk around when a greasy bird swooped in and tried to pick me up. While doging, I heard a screech slice through the rustling leaves. It was near deafening, and my hands almost instantly smacked my ears to block out the horrible sound. Thick blood and a deep rore filled my ears. My mind kept replaying the screech over and over again, trying to tell the difference if it was human or animal.