The Crows and The Creator

       The crows beckoned me from the back of my mind. I knew they wanted to be given life, but that was my choice and not theirs. Unlike them, I was busy taking care of other matters. Besides that there were preparations that needed to be undertaken prior to their existence in the living world. But their cawing and pecking was relentless, and it was not long before I succumbed to their wishes. Somehow I, the creator, became subject to the wants of my creations, even before I had created them.

       Without reluctance I promised them being. That did not quiet them down. Rather just the opposite occurred. The crows, naturally engulfed in darkness, began to radiate energy in the form of light. Sometimes creations of mine become as such, but there are some that embrace the sheer darkness of their being. Sometimes they become uncontrollable monsters, nightmares that haunt my rest. In the depths of the night, these dreadful creatures drip blood on my hands from a dagger that they forced me to create. Her blood reminds me of the rushing waters that she was thrown into, not by my hand but by one of the true monsters. With this in mind, I hesitated to keep my promise. But the radiant light from the crows gave me hope. I decided to hold true to my word.

       I began my preparations. They would need feathers, and blood. They would need color, or the lack of. They would need, without their knowing, a final fate to adhere to. I barely knew what fate I would choose for them, but as I created the murder, it all came to me.

       A white background would be their first home so that they know of the light required for their viewing. As time went on, I determined that their sanctuary would be seized from them and they would be thrust into darkness. From there only their own light would make them viewable, but then many more will view them, although there will be no promise of appreciation or positive judgement. There they would remain, until time itself wipes them from existence.

       The process of creation was simple. Two or three materials were all I required. The beckoning of the crows grew more and more faint as the paper was filled with their feathers. Their being is now before your eyes.

-Zero