Watch Your Step

Vulture Part 2

When I woke up, I wouldn't have recognized the place if not for the giant trunk in the middle. I was inside the trailer, and inside a cage. My eyes widened as I observed the giant trunk that served as a macabre centerpiece in my cage, a silent witness to the horror that unfolded.

The room glowed orange from candlelight. The old woman or the creature that was a vulture before hunched its back on me so I couldn't see her face. Its black wing-like robe also covers its body.

Within the confines of the eerie trailer, I spend my time planning to escape the grim reality of my imprisonment. The stench of decay and the haunting memories of my friends' demise clung to the air.

"Let me out," I stammered and then screamed, "Let me out!"

My monstrous captor looked at me and laughed like a witch. Her wicked eyes bore right through me, her sunken cheeks and broken teeth bared at my soul.

She didn't seem to be interested in me yet. She seemed like she was cooking something.

I bit my fingernails thinking what should I do? What would Eddie do? What would James do? What would Ashley do?

But I saw them piled in the corner like livestock in their macabre state. I looked away and fell helplessly inside the cage.

I often dreamed of Eddie, his dauntless stand. Of Charlie, his bright eyes, and Ashley, her once beautiful face. But the old and ugly witch was the only thing I could see.

After days of being her prisoner, I memorized when she would leave, what she would do first thing in the morning.

Determined to escape the clutches of this witch, I assessed my surroundings. The cage, though foreboding, seemed to weaken at certain points. Drawing strength from the memory of my fallen friends, I meticulously examined the bars, searching for a vulnerability to exploit.

It was easy enough to get out of the cage with my thin body once there were enough bars broken.

As days turned into nights, I honed my senses. The vulture witch would occasionally check my wrist and taunt me with her cackles. Unbeknownst to her, I was plotting my escape.

Days turned into weeks, and I languished within the mystical confines of my prison.

One fateful night, as the moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow through the trailer's holes, I seized the opportunity.

The witch was away and I emerged from the cage with my limbs tingling with newfound freedom.

No I can't. I can't just leave them. I looked at my friends, or what used to be my friends. Reminiscing all our days together and how it was ended by that monster.

I wiped my tears aside and felt a surge of power, the fire of revenge burning in my eyes.

Tonight, I would have to kill her.

I took my camera and checked if it was still working. Then I broke a branch from the trunk and sharpened it.

I pretended to still be imprisoned.The vulture witch, sensing the disturbance, screeched in rage. It was time for the final confrontation.

Undeterred, I armed myself with my makeshift weapon—the sharpened branch from the branches of the trunk. I got out of my cage

Without wasting a second, I used the flashes from my camera to blind it. I clutched my makeshift weapon — the sharpened branch from the twisted trunk that snaked through the trailer. The vulture, blinded by the flash of my camera, seemed vulnerable.

But as I was going to stab her its wings slashed at me and I was thrown half across the room.

In that chaotic moment, instinct took over, and I tried to recuperate. With a desperate move, I unleashed a blinding flash from my camera again, temporarily disorienting the vulture witch. Seizing the opportunity, I lunged forward, driving the sharpened branch toward her heart but she deflected it.

But still, the old woman screeched in agony as the makeshift weapon pierced her vile form.

But my victory was short-lived. The vulture witch, fueled by dark magic, retaliated with a burst of supernatural energy. The trailer trembled as the battle reached its climax. Unyielding, I pressed on, determined to put an end to the malevolence that had claimed my friends.

The trailer seemed to come alive as the vulture witch transformed before my eyes. Feathers turned to gnarled skin, and the menacing beak morphed into a long, pointed nose. The grotesque old woman emerged, her red eyes ablaze with malevolence.

The vulture lunged at me with talons bared. I evaded it and toppled the candles, setting the whole place on fire.

Our fight reverberated through the confined space, a symphony of grunts and screeches. I dodged the wicked slashes of the vulture witch's talons, my movements fueled by a mix of fear and determination. With each clash, the trailer reverberated with the intensity of our struggle.

With a surge of strength, I splashed the witch's face with boiling oil, blinding her and rendering her vulnerable. In a final act of defiance, I pushed her into the cage, where she belonged. The vulture witch, now resembling a caged bird, screeched in agony.

As the flames danced and crackled around me, casting eerie shadows on the mossy walls of the trailer, the acrid scent of burning wood mingled with the sickeningly sweet smell of charred flesh. I stood in a haze of adrenaline and grief, my mind replaying the horrific scene that unfolded moments ago.

The vulture, once a monstrous creature with devilish red eyes, now writhed in agony, its feathery form consumed by the inferno.

It screamed in a haunting chorus of pain and rage. The room echoed with her anguished cries, a twisted requiem for the friends I had lost.

I couldn't comprehend the inexplicable fusion of the supernatural and the mundane within that trailer. The willow leaves that adorned the creature now resembled the tattered remnants of a dark secret, whispering secrets that only the flames could understand.

I approached the cage where the old woman now cowered, her feathery disguise burned away, revealing the frailty of her human form. The realization hit me—she was still alive.

"This one's for Eddie!" I shouted, thrusting the sharpened branch into the cage. The old woman recoiled in pain, her unearthly screeches blending with the roar of the fire. "This one's for James! For Ashley!" Each name was a battle cry, an attempt to drown out the haunting memories of their lifeless bodies.

In a final act of revenge, I pushed her deeper into the fiery enclosure, the flames consuming her like a funeral pyre.

For a moment, she looked like a bird again—a creature of myth and nightmare. But as the fire raged on, her form disintegrated into ash, leaving behind the charred remnants of her malevolent presence.

I stumbled out of the trailer, gasping for breath in the cool night air. The orange glow of the fire reflected in my tear-filled eyes as I collapsed beside my fallen bike. It was still there, a poignant reminder of the horrific events that unfolded in the company of friends turned victims.

The weight of loss and the nightmarish events I had just witnessed pressed upon me, a burden that would haunt my dreams long after the embers of the vulture's lair turned to ash. But a newfound strength propelled me forward.

My friends Eddie, James, and Ashley, this is for all of you.