Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Carrier

I've been wandering the streets for the past few days. Just walking down alleyways, avoiding people. I don't have to eat much, not with the Bright Ones inside me. They ached to be let loose, but I decided it was too dangerous. I couldn't risk my unknown enemy seeing them and finding me. Not after what they did to Tern and Kestrel.

And then, today, I found a Carrier. You might better know them as a Grayskin, their skin covered in the fungal form of the Choir, driven mad by the constant battery of noises and voices.

The Choir hears things, though. It knows things. It could know who was after me.

The Carrier was huddled behind a dumpster, her body covered in layers of clothing, her face wrapped in bandages except for her eyes. I could see the skin around her eyes were covered in grey fungus.

Even though I had found a Carrier, it would tell me anything unless I forced it. Finally, carefully, I opened my mouth wide and let out two of the Bright Ones. They launched themselves into the air and grabbed the shoulders of the Carrier.

"What What What What What," she said, the Choir making her voice unnaturally echo. "What Do You Want? Want? Do You Want? What Do? You Want?"

The Bright Ones on her shoulder rubbed their beaks against her head, electricity sparking between them. "Something is killing Nests," I said. "Something killed all the Nests in my group. What did this? Who killed them? Who wars with the Convocation?"

"War War War War?" The Carrier laughed, the laughter echoing strangely off the sides of the alleyway. "There is no war. The birds merely eliminate a failed experiment. Experiment. Failed. Eliminate. They seek to eradicate those who knew. Knew. Eradicate. Who knew."

It couldn't be true. But why would the Choir lie?

I didn't know anything about any experiment. But perhaps Nightjar did. And because of what he did to himself, now we became targets.

I walked away from the Carrier as her laughter echoed in my ears.

1 comment:

  1. Choir are the masters of lies, next to the Rake.

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