2. Whisper
Iwas lying in the woods, wet and shivering. The raven had shifted and left me for dead in the middle of nowhere. To make matters worse, I was naked. I sighed, slowly sitting up. My head throbbed and a throbbing on my side made me hunker over. As I looked down at myself, I saw gnarly marks across my stomach. Blood filled my fingertips and I hissed and cursed.
“Damned, raven. What did you do to me?” I uttered.
Most shifters had control over their animals, not me. Mine was as wild as I was. It did what it wanted, when it wanted. Leaving me for dead was just a fun add on.
I had recently started shifting. I didn’t have much to go on but what my mother had passed onto me, but I couldn’t ask her anymore. Mom was long gone, her mind eaten away by the Alzheimer”s. Not even her raven could help her now. One day I feared she would shift and fly away, to never return. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Macabre. He’d been gone too long, and he’d missed out on her best years. My father eventually left, and I knew why he hadn’t returned, it was too much for him to bear. And now she sat in a Washington state hospital alone, because I couldn’t handle the panic attacks. They’d been too much for me, and I needed help. So I also ran away, but at least I was there if something happened. Some nights my raven would visit hers, and I’d get a glimpse of the visit, as if it too mourned her. She barely recognized me now, and I couldn’t ask about her raven or she’d go into shock. I tried once, and they had to subdue her with drugs, to stop from injuring herself. She cried for a week after that, probably the raven calling out for help. It was caged in her mind, unable to break free, but it would. I think it was only still here for me, but it would break away soon leaving me alone.
I flinched as the pain shot through my side. It continued to rain heavily, thunder lighting up the night sky, the rumble echoing soon after. I slowly stood and began my trudge down the path. My raven had at least left me for someone to find. I’d have to wait to turn again, once I got to the road.
“Damn bird, why must you be so stubborn? Why can’t you just stay out of trouble for once?”
I shivered and I felt the raven’s feathers ruffle along my skin, they were soft and warm. “You could have at least given me a warning.”
I hadn”t fully connected with the bird. I avoided it at all costs, and it avoided me. It didn’t even speak to me directly, it was more like suggestive thoughts, or intrusions like I liked to put it. It was as if it were speaking over my subconscious, my human mind fighting for control over the raven’s voice. I wondered if my mother still spoke to her bird, or maybe the raven had taken control to ease her pain.
The moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting light on the worn path ahead. I could hear the sound of traffic on the highway up ahead. Closing my eyes, I tried to summon the raven. I focused on the image of its sleek silhouette which was etched in my mind. I felt that tingling sensation, like tiny sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. It started as a subtle ripple beneath my skin, then intensified into a wave of energy that swept over me, but then nothing happened.
“Come on,” I said to myself once again, trying to shift at will. “Work with me here.”
I felt that familiar sensation again, the shift at my fingertips and then once again, it faded.
What”s wrong, Whisper?That voice echoed in my mind again, sharp and cawing like a raven”s call. It always called me out on how I doubted myself, and it annoyed the fuck out of me.
“Leave me alone and just do what I tell you to.”
You know that’s not how it works. It cawed once again.
“I don’t care how it works, just take me home. You left me for dead.”
I could hear the echoing of its sharp laughter in my head, and I narrowed my eyes feeling the anger sweep through me.
I hated shifting, it was never pleasant for anybody. It also meant I had to acknowledge the bird’s existence and I didn’t want to. It consumed me, chained me, tied down my gypsy soul and I truly hated my curse. Shifting meant that my body contorts and twists, bones shifting and reforming with an otherworldly destruction of one body morphing into something it’s not. Feathers sprout from my flesh, their darkness consuming me as they spread across my body like a living shroud. I can always hear the sound of my own heartbeat, pounding in rhythm with the transformation, and I wondered if it would ever stop.
You”re afraid. The raven’s voice continued, accusatory and piercing.
I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting back tears of frustration. ”I am not afraid. Especially not of you.”
You”re lying to yourself. The raven insisted, its tone relentless. You”re afraid of what you might become. Afraid of losing control.
“Fuck that,” I responded, concentrating until I was drowning in the sound of my heartbeat.
In the undertone I heard the raven once more. Fear will only hold you back, Whisper. Face it and embrace your true nature, only then will you find the strength to control it.
I ignored it, instead reaching deep inside and I embraced what I knew, darkness and courage. With each beat of my heart, the sensation grew stronger, building to a crescendo that consumed me entirely. And then, with a rush of feathers and a surge of power, I felt my body begin to shift. Slowly at first, then all at once. I screamed as my body reshaped itself, the breaking and shifting of bones echoed in the silent forest. The raven was pissed as its feathers erupted from my skin, unfurling like dark wings, tearing my arms open as my fingers fused together to form sharp talons. My face stretched and sharpened into a sleek beak and I I felt the rush of air whoosh out of me like a punch in the gut as the raven took over, moving me aside.
Through it all, there was a strange sense of detachment, as if I were watching myself from afar while being ripped apart and then put together. And for a moment, I teetered on the edge of existence, straddling the line between human and raven. And then a new feeling takes over, one that’s addictive and I keep myself from allowing it to devour me whole because if I do, I”m afraid the raven will never let me return. It’s a freeing feeling, one that made me feel more alive than ever, every nerve and fiber of my being thrumming with raw energy. With a final surge of power, the transformation is completed, and I stand before the clearing, not as Whisper, but as the raven.
I stretched my wings, feeling the freedom and power that came with my new form and I let out a frustrated, sad cry, the sound echoing through the night sky in a screeching caw. I allowed the beast to take over, lifting me off the ground and soaring us through the sky. This wasn’t my true nature, I refused to believe it, and yet it was all I ever knew. A secret that could ruin me, chain me to something I never wanted, and I refused to give into that.
My parents always drilled it into me, that if anyone found this secret, it could destroy me. My brother Ethan, you know him as Macabre, Jameson, and my Uncle Beau, better known as Kingpin, were the only souls who knew my secret. I lived my life as a hermit, and I was well taught by my father on how to become a ghost. He and my brother both taught me how to handle a weapon and I was a good shot. I didn’t need anyone to protect me, even though Ethan didn’t understand me, I was protecting him too. No one realized I would rather live my life alone, bear this curse alone, than let anyone into my world. They’d chain me up, dissect me, or even worse-hold me captive in a cage so that I could never fly again.
I flew high over the city, the wind billowing my feathers, and my eyes blurred as unshed tears formed. The raven”s power rippled through me, and I felt its comfort. As much as I hated it, it was only being who understood just how sad I had become.