Blacken

  Her eyes were shining again, he could see even in the moonlight. That expression had always made him feel… self-conscious. He cleared his throat, shaking off the thought, turning to place the book in one of the many piles.

  “It’s not fair, really. Most of us even have a tendency to treat others who don’t look or act a certain way the same.”

  He turned back to her, “How do you mean? Everyone looks different.”

  She expressed her sympathies about certain human beings treated as though they weren’t just that; human beings. People who were perceived as unworthy by society all from something they couldn’t help but be born with in some cases, drastically altering the way they live their lives.

  While he had heard of such things, it still didn’t make sense how people looking different could be mistreated by their peers. That’s not how things worked way back home…

  “Well, I have a few books that may help put it into perspective, if you were interested?”

  He raised an eyebrow, “I suppose I do not have anything better to do.”

  She looked around the space awkwardly, “Well, I, um… I really like your place. It’s beautiful in here, but it could use a clean-up if I’m honest.”

  As if for emphasis, a few of her slender fingers brushed against the white fabric haphazardly covering the chaise longue sofa in the room, drawing lines in the dust there.

  “Would it not be suspicious if anyone came across a clean discarded manor?”

  Avie wiped the dust on her pants as she grinned, “I thought you said it’s been awhile since you’ve had any ‘guests’?”

  Damn. She was right.

  “Touché. I should keep it proper, at least.”

  “I could help with that,” she said, laughing.

  The pair returned to the apartment shortly after the tour, unable to find anything of interest for her odd sensation much to her evident disappointment. Arriving back at her home, she searched around the flat for two books she had mentioned previously. Finding one was easy, finding the second proving to be a game of hide and seek.

  “I hope you like these, they’re classic literature.”

  “It is new material; I am sure I will enjoy the change.”

  She appeared sad at his statement, “There can be more that you can do now, if you’re bored of just reading?”

  “I enjoy it, but it is tiresome. What did you have in mind?”

  “Have you ever painted? I have supplies you could use. Maybe I can bring them when we spruce-up the place?”

  The idea mulled over in his mind, “I could give it a try. After all, I see in other shades, maybe they will translate well to canvas.”

  A laugh was hidden behind her hand, “You’re probably a regular Da Vinci.”

  He gripped the books tighter, “Right, the painter. He was merely a human; cake walk in comparison to my spectrum,” he chortled, joining in on her laughter.

  “Let me know what you think when you’ve finished, or if I can help clarify anything.” His feathers shimmered as he nodded, turning to exit through the bedroom window, “Wait! Wait, before you go… I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for making the effort.”

  He turned his crown to observe the sudden statement. While it was true, he wasn’t expecting to have such fluidity with chatter. This human made it easy. While finding him interesting, the more she brought up, the more he found her similar in return. It wasn’t just about the mysterious drumming, there was something more that made him seek her out.

  “You are welcome.”

  The mass of feathers cocooning wings pushed him into the night’s sky, kissing the stars as he set out to his home in the woods.

  That night, he took up one of the books Avie gifted him. Engrossed in a new story, he followed a character trapped and raised inside a grand church, kept secret for the way he looked. Even other humans were treated poorly due to living as an ‘incorrect’ race in the eyes of the antagonist. The main character arc propelled the lead to save the woman he unrequitedly loved and die because of the silly sentiment. His feathered self liked it in terms of believability, and it felt like he did understand the point Avie made earlier… sort of.

  It at least outlined the differences someone could face, fiction or not.

  He sighed, seeing the sun peeking from the horizon as he sat the paperback on a nearby pile. Laying back and stretching out, he considered getting some sleep, the lingering fingers of fatigue tracing over his eyelids.

  Turning to face away from the window, the other title filled his vision.

  Then again…

  He picked it up, holding it over his face as he read the introductory.

  She was cooking, seeing through the same infamous window of her bedroom to the other side of the apartment where she stood.

  Lifting the glass, he helped himself inside, gripping the book he brought with him.

  “I do not understand this one. I mean I do; I understand it in the literal sense. What I do not understand is the reasoning? I spent dawn reading through it, all day even, and then once I finished… I had to read it again. It is powerful, it is energetic, it is mysterious. Why would the female not return his feelings? How dare it end in this way!”

  He paced back and forth in the combined kitchen and living room, rambling off the thoughts, seeing that he startled the human with his sudden appearance and monologue.

  “Because she did not love him, she pitied him,” the small female said, quieting the flame on the burner.

  He stopped, softly outraged, “Love? But she loved that one not seen since childhood? And she chose him? He hardly acted better!”

  “It’s how her heart worked… She never let go of that love she had. I think she really did care for Erik, and was grateful for him! But she was still scared of him because he wanted to control her.”

  “But he… Erik had nothing before her,” he said, lifting the book.

  “I know, I find his life unfair too... No matter his actions, I think he still deserved love.” Her eyes lit up with a thought, “There’s a movie too, they add on more to the story if you were interested.”

  “I want to watch it. But not here, I am… uncomfortable being in the human area for very long.”

  Avie smiled gently, “I think I have something that will work.”

  The movie captured the same feeling he had when reading the same title—his feathered self really getting into the flick, into the characters, into the ‘villain’ portrayed. He feels a sense of relation to the main character; they were both just trying to live, albeit in seclusion, finding solace away from humans and perfecting their passions, turned away for being different.

  Avie set up a small box attached to a screen and a movie player, allowing them to watch in the comfort of the manor. It was a very kind gesture, a lot of work coming from the human granting him the ability to watch a movie; something he never thought possible.

  “It… It is not fair, it is even more unfair,” he spoke as the credits rolled over.

  “I think they should have been together too.”

  He turned to look at her, seeing her vision still holding the screen, “I know it sounds weird of me to say; but I think she did love him, their connection was more real, and I think it made sense for them to be together in the end. The Comte loved her after he saw that she was beautiful and talented, he didn’t even remember her. Erik fell in love through getting to know her.” She turned on her last sentence, shrugging and making eye contact—the impact of words heavier as he processed the new viewpoint.

  They paused, a contemplative silence filling the air between them. He thought over his words, wanting to know more about her thoughts and perspectives, but still struggling with the new experience.

  He sighed through his nose, “What would be your favourite colour?”

  The change of subject had her questioning before gleaming, a small smile tickled her lips and a quiet laugh poked through, “I haven’t thought too much on it, but I think it’s pink, just like t
he dianthus nearby.”

  He turned further towards her, “Any your favourite novel?”

  “The Princess in Unknown. A story outside the realms of this world, she escapes her life as a princess and starts a life of adventure with dangerous time trials on high seas and a vizier who would stop at nothing to track her down.”

  “That does sound exciting. I would like to read that as well.”

  She nodded, “Anytime. Which one is your favorite?”

  Looking away and grabbing something on the end table where they sat, he returned the possession to her line of vision. It was the copy that she had given him. Avie smiled with glee.

  “If you like it that much, then please keep it!”

  Taken a bit aback by that, he faltered, “But I- I mean I could not… I do not have anything to give to you.”

  “I don’t want anything back, I’m happy that you like it. I want you to be able to read it whenever you’d like.”

  “… Thank you.”

  They discussed more about the movie they had watched, he was quite enamored with how they changed details and plot, but it very well was among the same story in the book.

  “And the uh—” He mimed a stiff imitation of a movement from the film.

  “Ballroom dancing?”

  “Yes, dancing, of course. The dancing you humans do as man and woman, what does that do in terms of enjoyment?”

  “It’s like an expression of art, just like a song, as well as a connection or an experience any two people can enjoy. Do you have that where you’re from?”

  He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, “It looks a little different, but indeed we do, and it means relatively the same.”

  “Would you like to learn something new?”

  “Human dancing? What would I even need to do with that knowledge?”

  “It’s something fun to do, and I think you would be very good at it.”

  That stroked his ego, his expression cool as he thought it over, “… We would need music.”

  She practically jumped at the agreement, shouting a quick “I’ll be right back!” before leaving the manor, returning a matter of minutes later with a boombox. Avie set up the portable machine, getting a few songs ready to play.

  “It’s not ballroom music, but it’s the closest I have.”

  Soothing music began to play as she grabbed both of his hands, the instruments picking up a light tempo while beautiful strings coerced with woodwinds, emotion behind every note. She showed the steps, explaining that the gentlemen lead, and the ladies follow, both stepping in tempo a certain way.

  “one-two-three-four, see? You’re a natural!”

  He picked it up fast, no longer watching their feet and confident enough to look at his dancing partner without the feeling of uncertainty in his steps. Yet it didn’t seem the same way it had when watching it on screen.

  “If you are to teach me, at least do it correctly, we are supposed to be like this,” with the drop of one arm, it swung back to hold onto her lower waist, bringing her in much closer to him. He twisted his other to hold her arm up more, copying the look portrayed in the movie.

  “Yes… I suppose you’re right.”

  She looked at him in that way again, with large eyes he couldn’t read, seeing them in all their might in the moment—in a way it felt like they never really left, just dimmed in every other instance.

  With a raise of her hand, it was placed upon the top of his arm, him being much too tall to keep it hiked up upon his shoulder, the soft plumage caused her fingers to sink in slightly at the touch. He didn’t dare break eye contact, nor did she as they swung around the wooden floors, becoming bolder in actions, spinning her around, mimicking things he had seen.

  Avie laughed, a string of giggles leaving the redhead as she was having fun with his feathered self. It was something he never dared dream would happen from their first meeting, even their second! Her laughter becoming infectious, he let out his own chuckle as the songs played on, allowing them to have this moment of bonding. In a way, he felt like he needed it. He’s been alone for far too long….

  The music swelled to a close, and he dipped her gently for the finale. She was smiling, those large green jades darting between both of his. His own gaze was strong as it fixed on hers, thinking over his next action. He brought her back up, only the crackling in the stove adjacent them could be heard. They hadn’t broken away.

  “Rhulle.”

  Her eyebrows crinkled together upon hearing the unfamiliar word, “I’m sorry… what was that?”

  “My name. It is Rhulle. You may have it.”

  Even in the dim glow, Rhulle noticed a discolouration happen on her face while her features softened, that expression returning with the same glittering wonder.

  She decided to test it out, “Rhulle…” The female smiled, “Thank you for a wonderful gift.”

  CHAPTER 9

  The chips crunched loudly, causing Avie to turn up the volume on her television just to hear what the narrative was explaining as she lounged in bed. A particularly large chip splintered while biting into it, causing crumbs and fragments to fall onto the sheets below her.

  She sighed in exaggerated annoyance. It was her own fault for eating in bed; a bad habit she could never break out of. It was probably for the best if she put the bag of potato crisps away and out of her sight.

  On her way back into the bedroom, her eyes caught on the corner of a glossy photo recklessly tucked between the mattress and box spring. Momentarily having the conversation slip her mind, she pulled the square loose from its bindings—studying the blurred, grainy, black and white photo of a dark figure with extended wings.

  “Thank god, I was about to start kicking. I think I found something—a photo from a while back, it’s hard to make out but hear me out on this one.” Owen made his way into the flat, pulling out the picture to show off with pride.

  Avie took the image from him, seeing it depicted a view of the forest but also something much more prominent in the foreground. A pang of worry filled her.

  It looked like him… It looked an awful lot like the feathered being she got to make acquaintance with; however, she had such prior knowledge and Owen did not. It may be able to pass as a hoax photograph. Knowing the blond, he wouldn’t accept that explanation—insisting that they roll with the extraterrestrial idea; the only traction in the investigation they pursued.

  “What exactly am I looking at?” She flipped the photo over, hoping for something to be written on the back.

  The librarian smiled confidently, “It may be the connecting factor for us.”

  “You’re saying this is a picture of one of the aliens? It looks like a misshapen Christmas tree…”

  He rolled his eyes, “I know the quality is not that great, it’s from a police report from the Fifties. I’m just saying it’s something we could be looking out for.”

  Avie felt her tongue involuntarily press against her cheek, she was trying to think of a way to steer the photo in question as anything other than the creature she had been trying to know. It may have translated as an unconvinced look, Owen continuing,

  “Aves, I know it’s not much, but really, what else do we have to go on? None of the actual science we have come up with or tried has stuck. It’s all fallen flat. This is an actual photograph someone took; I want to keep following this rabbit hole.”

  She was torn.

  On one hand, she wanted to find answers, she had to when it affected her so much. Their Dewey Decimal team were the only ones working on questions no one else was interested in. But on the other hand, she needed to keep a secret.

  If she fought back too much with this, it certainly would be suspicious…

  “So, if it was photographed looking like this, there’s probably a fair chance that it knew that it was. If there were no other images like this, it may have changed form. Like, what if it could shapeshift? What if it could turn into what suited it in the moment? Here, it needed to fly so it made
wings… If it needed to hide, it could disguise itself as any one of us?”

  “Damn Aves, and you say my theories are crackpot,” he said, laughing.

  “I’m just speculating! Wouldn’t there have been more sightings or reports than just this one if that was its only form? Bigfoot has tons of sightings as the same figure.”

  “But you want to explore this winged man alien—winged man shapeshifter with me?”

  She sighed in a small relief, “It’s like you said, it’s the only thing to run off. Let’s look for other buried cases due to peculiar claims. Maybe we can find a logical progression of what forms it likes to take.”

  Owen was over the moon, lifting her up and twirling her around in a tight hug, “Hell yes! Avie, you are such a creative mastermind! I never would have got this far without you.”

  It wasn’t as if she outright lied to Owen, but she did withhold information to get him away from the topic. The woman felt terrible for keeping such a secret from him, but Rhulle only started to open up to her. Avie couldn’t imagine he would be very keen on having another human thrown into the mix so soon—let alone how Owen would even react.

  She hid the photo once again, taking care to make sure no corners jutted out this time. The blond would know eventually, the situation couldn’t be kept secret forever, especially if she could find more answers from Rhulle and how he was tied in.

  Cleaning up the mess she left in bed, Avie crawled back into the covers, switching off the T.V to focus on her book for the time being. It was getting late, the red numbers on her alarm clock reading out a fairly high number. She didn’t care, the numbers marched up as the book kept her under its spell.

  Awaking a few hours later, she came-to still clutching her book, venturing into consciousness as the dreaded sensation of harsh drumming palpitated throughout her body. It sang severely, making her teeth clench as well as her fists while the force hit. The woman couldn’t think clearly in the state of mind, but a muddled thought raced through her brain; maybe if Rhulle sees it, if he sees what it was like when the attacks came on, then maybe a connection could be drawn, and he may know something more—something that could help stop the assault.