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obsidianmagpie · 8 years

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Birdy Short Tale

*Dana spent an unknown amount of time in Vietnam. In fact, that is where they were first transported thanks to the spacial time dimensional magic courtesy of The Grand Witch Baba Yaga. They were sent in the year 1960, during the Vietnam War at its beginning years. Dana took a military jacket with the surname ‘Glass’ and wandered around Vietnam helping villages, defending them from NVA officers and on occasion assist military officers during guerilla surprise attacks. This earned them the nickname “Military Angel.”

Eventually, Dana crossed paths with Donovan’s squadron in ‘61 and Donovan himself. Though not on good impressions. Donovan received orders to capture a group of NVA officers and to defend the village. Well...Someone else beated him to the punch. Literally, Someone else managed to slice and dice and kick the sorry asses of those sorry sons of guns. And someone did really brutal and good. All the troops were accounted for and in need of serious medical attention, except for the captain of the troops. Donovan heard gunshots and screams. Against his better judgement, he decided to investigate. He walked through the wretched humid jungle, his heart pounding so loud against his ribcage he thought it would burst. Until he came to a clearing in the fields. All was silent for the beating of his heart and sweat poured down from his forehead. Then he saw them. And it both terrified and mesmerised him.

The Military Angel emerged from the bush as if they were emerging from invisible water. He noticed a few things were off, like the feminine features, white streaked hair, obsidian eyes, katana in their hand and more eye boggling were two black and white gigantic magpie wings. He is still and motionless taken aback, but also frightened. For this was the “Military Angel” he had heard so much about, from the soldiers to the civilians and he only brushed them as hallucinations or myths. There was no way angels could exist. At least...That’s what he once thought. Now he wasn’t so sure. The moment passed as the ‘Captain’ staggered out from the bush as well opposite of Dana. Only the Captain had recently passed. Unlike the hungry ghosts, he was a former shell of himself,all traces of humanity were forever erased. And he was threatening the life of the little girl to prove such.

Thus a battle began for the life of the child. Within a second, the once humid air become the cold and dry, something Donovan hadn’t experienced in a long time since he arrived. Immediately, Dana drew their blade and sprinted forwards in the form of a monochromatic shadow and claimed the Captain’s arm that released the child from his grasp. With the child, they flew 10 feet back and placed the child in a safe place in the bush. A position near John Donovan that went unnoticed by either the girl, Dana and Donovan. They returned and the Captain attempted to deal blows. Dana only dodged the attempts with such fluid movements, one could say they were merely dancing. Or that they were merely playing with prey. Finally. Dana began to fight back, cutting diagonally left and right. Returning blows with the strength of impacting cars and kicks that could sweep a typhoon back. A fight between two monsters was a rare thing to witness for they were either eternal in time or quick as lightning. This fight was an osmosis of both and God was it terrifying. Finally, Dana landed a fatal blow that turned the Captain to wispy ash. It ended and now it was on to the next important task; Finding and returning the girl back to her village. Easier said than done.

They turned their head to the sound of a frightened girl in distress. An american soldier was trying to calm the girl down, but she was too frightened to know the difference between the NVA and American military forces to know the difference between friend and foe. When Dana tried to intervene he pointed his gun at them. A code that meant: “Get the fuck away from me.”

The girl knew Dana as a kind bird person who played with her, allowed her to touch her wings, the first person brave enough to do so in her village. Someone who was close to a mother that always comforted her frightened children. She ran to them and so did Dana. Donovan took a shot, afraid of the unknown, his aim was shit. It would’ve hit the girl straight through the head. Would’ve, if Dana didn’t take the blow. The immediately scooped the girl and fell to the ground with her, but the bullet dug through their eye. Then...Silence. Donovan advanced slowly to the fallen figure. His heart was once again beating against his human bones his gun was ready to shoot another round of piercing thunder. Their body was lifeless, eye gouged and bleeding. A black ink-like substance poured from their eye, the bullet was embedded deep. The child was safe, Dana had shielded her from the shot and spared her from the pain that would have only been added to what she had endured the entire night. Donovan was in shock of the events that had quickly transpired. So many thoughts racing that fragile mind of his, now he was only hoping that it was over now. How wrong he was to think of that. Life twitched in Dana’s fingers. Slowly they rose from the ground seeming to feel nothing from the pain.

Wrong again for Donovan. You’d think he’d be able to catch up, but not really. Waves of never ending fear paralyzed his mortal bones with each step the inhuman takes, the colder the air became. Black ink seeped from their eye, but their other intact eye stared him down, full of murderous intent. Donovan desperately tried to move back, as far away as he could, but alas, his attempts only resulted in his legs caving underneath him. From there he staggered back, until the fear was unbearable. He was so frightened, afraid tonight would truly be his last, his teeth gripped his stumpy cigarette down. His eyes were wide in fear and tears and were the poor witnesses to the such a horrible sight . Dana, unfazed, bent over and carefully removed the cigarette from his tight clenched teeth. He aimed at their head, but his hands were trembling badly and could not pull the trigger. Poor, innocent Donovan. He was helpless and his heart continued to beat loudly against his ribcage and he was going to die tonight.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump.

Sadness washed in their eye. The terrors of war, did so much to young men, but even seeing something out of God’s borders was something too much to stomach. So, their wings folded and disappeared into the back, out of sight. Their wispy blade disappeared into the unseen void. Their hands gently held onto his trembling hands, it was easy to take the gun away and set it to the ground. Their hands moved to his face and gently wiped the tears from his eyes with their thumbs as they cupped it. Their eye moved to the tags hidden in his military jacket. Continuing to be ever so gentle, Dana lifted his tags up to their eye for closer inspection. Donovan tensed, but did not move, for he still did not know if he would live or die. They eyed the tags for some time, reading the etched words in the small plates of steel connected to the silver beads around his neck.

They backed up and held out their hand.

“I am not your enemy nor am I a demon. I am human, just like you, because I fight just like you do.”

Soothing, feminine did their words rang, but they did not come from their mouth. They rang in Donovan’s mind. He was still surprised at the fact he has not fainted yet.

“We fight, to ensure that the children of the our future will not have to suffer the same horrors as we do now.” At that time, the words did come from their mouth, the same voice from his head. Donovan turned his to the child as they continued.

“So that they can learn from our mistakes, and strive to do become better than we are now.”

Those words resonated with him. And they gave him the strength to reach out and hold their hand as well.

Dana lifted him from the ground. They picked the gun from the ground and placed it in his hands, wrapping their fingers around his, interlacing fingers embraced the pistol.

“But remember, in the times we breathe in, we have to be aware, observe, and wait before the trigger should be pulled. Otherwise, we only spill unnecessary innocent blood and create tragedies that are truly the nightmares in which demons come from.”

Their hands slowly slipped away from the pistol, and vanished into the night with only ink and feathers as their trail.

“Remember that. Donovan.”

After that incident, Donovan never heard about the “Military Angel” during his tour in Vietnam. Nor did he see them again.

As for Dana, they left Vietnam and traveled to Britain, where they worked for the MI6 and made friends with Harry Palmer, who gave them their black eyepatch as a gift. From there they met someone from their future and traveled with them back to America. Whenever they remember that incident, their eye twitches, just a little. Back then, it would just bleed and cry with black ink. Only did they confront Donovan and made peace with him did it stop bleeding.

Another story for another time. But the rest they say, is history.

*Whoo this took way too long to complete. For those that wonder why they are being tagged, I understood you guys were Mafia 3 fans, and since this has something to do with it I thought I’d share it with you. I will add a picture version to this later on.

@bayouqueen, @jakkus-storyteller, @agentxdonovan @lincolnclayiisms @cityowned @wreakwar @chilllrend (this one is special and hope this raises your spirits). I will add more when I can remember who likes this.

Update: now tagging, @dxnovxn

-Ciao!

#Birdy Short Tale

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