Beaks of Terror

The walls were done in muted colors. A warm wood-toned wainscoting anchored the murals above.  Rich oranges blended with shades of rust and spoke of the setting sun against which silhouettes of exotic trees and animals, marching in a safari style, ran to the ceiling.  The effect was spectacular.  At any moment, I expected to feel a warm savannah wind caress my face or hear the call of an African bird break the silence.

"Cheep... cheep!"  Startled, I looked toward the sound and saw a cage of parakeets.  Ohhhh.  I'll bet they're wild African parakeets... very vicious, I thought. I couldn't help myself and let out a chuckle. 

I was standing just past the entrance to Fur and Feathers, a boutique pet store not too far from where I lived.  It was ten minutes until closing and I had forgotten to pick up hamster food for Teddy, my daughter's pet, during my forays earlier in the day.

The owner scowled at me.  I could tell he wanted to close by his brusque inquiry.  "We're closing in a few minutes... can I help you find something?" 

"I need some hamster food... and, I really need to use your bathroom.  I'll be quick, promise."  A pained expression crossed his face as he pointed at a door in the back of the store.  "I'll be right back," I said as I hurried toward the rear.

"I never should have stopped at Starbucks," I murmured to myself as I stood and found relief.  Reaching for the handle, I suddenly found myself standing in the dark.  What the...?  Turning, I could just make out a faint glow coming from under the door and I cautiously moved toward the light.  Opening the door, I said, "I can't believe the power went..." and stopped in mid-sentence.

The store was dark but the glowing exit light told me there had been no power outage.  "Sir?" I shouted, hoping that the owner was nearby and waiting to let me out.  "Click, click, click."  A tiny sound whispered through the answering silence.  As I walked down the aisle toward the front door, a faint rustling sound seemed to follow me, although at the time I pushed it away from my thoughts. My focus was on finding my way out.  "Hello?" I again called into the darkened hush to no avail.  The front door was barred with a metal grate.

Now what the hell do I do? I thought, growing quite perturbed at the situation I found myself in.  Irrationally, I thought of the fat little dappled hamster sitting in the comfort of home while I was the one caged.  "He'll get his," I growled insincerely under my breath.

I reached for my cell phone and then, after frisking myself quite thoroughly, realized I had left it in the car charger.  "How dumb can one man be?" I wondered half-aloud.  I made my way back into the darkness toward the counter.  Surely, there would be a phone there. 

As I moved, I began to hear the sounds I had ignored earlier in a different light... or lack of light.  A faint clicking and a rippling sound – not from water but from something soft brushing against itself – now took on an ominous tinge.  My mind went to the images that had greeted me as I arrived.  Elephants and large birds - Bustards I think they were called - although the name reminded me once again of the shop owner for obvious reasons.  I'm not a believer in the supernatural so I quickly pushed the idea of printed animals roaming the aisles from my mind, shaking my head at the ridiculous thought.

They say timing is everything.  Just as I moved my head, I picked up movement from the corner of my eye and shied left as a hurtling... something... fluttered by with talons poised!  With a shouted "Holy sh..." I dropped for the floor.  What the bloody hell was that? raced through my mind.  Peering from my prone position, I could make out the backlit form of a parakeet standing on the counter above me.  The pale light glittered in its small, beady, menacing eyes as it stared back.

"Click, click... click, click."  The chilling sound emanated from all around.  Turning my head slowly, I could make out the ghostlike forms of three... no four, five, six more pudgy shapes in the dim illumination.  Reaching up to the counter to pull myself up, I felt the paper-cut sting of a tiny beak raking across my fingers.  I was trapped!

With the cunning of a hunting pack, the birds began to circle me.  Each movement was telegraphed by the sound of their tiny dagger claws dragging across linoleum.  I could only cower as they eyed me like birdseed and continued their arcane dance, swaying in a wild jungle rhythm to a music that only they could hear. 

Closer and closer they came until the leader, sensing the weakness of his chosen prey, plummeted down and landed on my hip.  As if a signal to go in for the kill, the others hopped and fluttered, pressing me downward until I lay curled fetally on the floor.  Searching for my Achilles' heel they proceeded to peck and scratch, trying to find the fatal flaw in my armor of Levi and Gap.

How long I lay there I couldn't say... minutes turned to hours, hours to days. At last, I noticed that the inkiness of my surroundings was turning to a dirty soot and, when the first rays of morning sun milkily illuminated the altar on which I lay, they were gone!  Like vampires fleeing light, they had disappeared leaving no remnant of their presence behind.  Well, almost none.  As I reached up – tentatively, expecting this was another of their traps – and grasped the counter – their ancient runes of power and possession were enscribed in white streaks all over my clothes.

Epilogue.

Eventually, a clerk arrived and I was once more free.  His trance like stare throughout my explanation told me he too was under their control.  I hurried home and my wife, after hearing my tale, wiped off my wounds with antiseptic and comforted me with her "quit being a baby" speech.  Still, I knew somehow I'd been changed and I sought professional help.  I was eventually diagnosed with PTSD, known more commonly as Parakeet Traumatic Stress Disorder, and with time and therapy, I've moved beyond that night of horror.  The only residual effect that I've yet to overcome is an uncontrollable maniacal grin that comes across my face every time I pass a Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Go figure


Notes

A contest entry for "Twisted Tales Contest"  [13+]
Word Count:
Story: 982
Epilogue: 115
Total: 1,097

Thank you for taking time to read my words.  I would appreciate it if you took a moment and left a comment.  Your reaction, impressions, criticisms, - yes, even praise are all equally welcome.

Ken