Cerulean Feathers

Chapter 1

"Nobody move and nobody gets hurt."

The small gas station that had previously been drowsily running now snapped to attention as a man wearing a hockey mask and gray jacket stood in the doorway with a pistol in hand and gazelle antlers lowered slightly.

When no one moved, the man took quick strides toward the cash register, snapping,

"Give me all the money."

As the single Beta employee shakily began handing the stacks of cash to the man, the man swept armfuls into a large sack onto the ground.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and the man froze, looking at the 3 people in the store to see a mom covering her child with red-brown wings and a phone to her ear.

He sighed angrily, grabbing handfuls of whatever food he could find nearby before taking off out of the store.

He may not have gotten all the cash from the register, but he knew he'd have enough food to survive the month.

Running was not faster than a police car, which was why the man saw the flashing red and blue lights grow nearer.

However, the man knew these streets like the back of his hand, having lived there for 2 years.

So, after a bit of weaving and slipping through cracks, the man slid the bag under a rotting door and crawled inside after it, disappearing from view as the sirens passed a few minutes later.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Lucky again.

Turning toward his makeshift house inside the abandoned building, the man took the mask and false horns off, shaking his head to let his lengthy black hair fall into his eyes.

"Looks like it's time for another haircut, Jon"

He said to himself, his voice echoing slightly off the moldy room.

Picking up a shard of glass from the floor, he walked to the bathroom and stared at his splintered reflection. Using the broken mirror to the best of his abilities, he maneuvered the shard of glass around his hair and fingers, slicing black strands just enough to see again.

When he finished, black hair different lengths but close enough, he stumbled back toward his mattress.

He took off his small gray jacket, letting his blue jay wings loose. They stretched, tingling as the blood began to flow through them again.

"Another day, another fight."

He sighed, lying down on his back and staring at the broken ceiling fan above him; trying not to think about how hot and humid the building was.

There was a rustle by the broken wall entrance, and Jon sat bolt upright.

His blue jay wings twitched anxiously as he stayed as still as possible on his bed, only lifting curiously when a paper fell through the hole.

There was another rustle, and then footsteps lead away.

Jon slowly got up from his bed and toward the piece of paper, picking it up when he neared it.

It read:

Hello.

We've been watching you for the past year expecting you to not last very long.

Looks like we were wrong.

If you are interested, we are willing to offer you a job.

I will not lie, this job can put you in dangerous situations that can end in death if done wrong.

So, I understand if you decline.

However, how long can you last on rainwater and chips?

Meet me on the corner of Mallard and Doe at 10 am tomorrow if you wish to take this offer.

-V

Jon stared at the paper in shock.

Watching me?

A job?

He looked around at his house, scanning every crack and crevasse, partially expecting a camera to be there.

Nothing.

He turned back to the paper and read it again before sighing.

Whoever "V" was, was right.

He couldn't live off chips and water forever.

Besides, he stopped caring if he lived or died a long time ago.

Nobody would miss him.

So, why not?

Right?