VII Crows


As the time flows by he finds more pieces to his puzzle.

Small details, faint memories.

And pain, lots of pain. And blood curdling screams.

Are those his screams?

His bones are melting, his body is on fire. Blood dyes his vision red.

Did he die? Is he in the Limbo? Is that the reason why he can't move or wake up?

No, his heart is beating. He can't be dead. What's going on?

Black birds fly past his closed eyes. He can see their red eyes eying him hungrily. Their mouths are twisted in a sinister smile.

Crows.

He remembers seeing black. Lots of black. And alcohol. He hates alcohol. He smells cigarettes. He hears the birds laughing. A cold voice is talking to him, telling him it's over. It's time to die.

A silver crow lands in front of him and sneers.

Time's up, detective.