Prince of Gold and Pine

Chapter 8 - The Man With Wings

Marceline had never entered this room before. Pushing open the door, she tiptoed inside as if any noise would some how summon her father.

Once inside, she slowly looked around the room. Her eyes widened at what she saw. The walls were covered with different species of butterflies, moths and other insects. They were dead, stored inside display cases like decorations.

Marceline felt her stomach churn and she quickly looked away to survey the rest of the room. There was a desk scattered with papers and folders, some of which had fallen to the ground below, that was dimly illuminated by a fluorescent lamp. Walking past it, her eyes skimmed over drawings of various winged creatures with different names written hastily by her fathers unsteady hand.

So this is what he has been working on? Marceline pondered, skimming the notes. She felt a pang of frustration at the thought of her father choosing to study insects over spending time with her and her mother, but she brushed it off quickly. She was determined to find the source of the noise.

Her confidence grew along with her curiosity the more she walked about the room. Eventually, she came to a wall of books where she briefly read the titles of various editions. She was surprised to read that amount books of biology, there were books of urban legends, myths, and folklore. As she went about examining the bookshelf, the sound came again from behind her.

Tink!

She froze, turning her head slowly towards the sound. Hidden in the darkest corner of the room, she saw another desk. Turning away from the books, she approached the desk. Switching on a nearby lamp, she was surprised how odd it looked. It was an all metal table that looked newer in comparison to the other wooden furniture in her father's office.

Approaching the desk, she ran her eyes over its sleek surface, stopping when she saw the assortment of surgical tools. Some of which, by the dried blood, looked recently used.

However, what stood out the most was the cylinder object in the middle of the table. It looked like a jar with a white cloth draped over it to conceal its contents. Slowly, she reached her hand towards it.

Tink!

Immediately, she recoiled. The sound was so close she could practically feel the vibration of it. It was clear that it was coming from directly under the cloth. Taking a steadying breath, she tried again. With shaky hands, she gently removed the cloth to reveal what lie beneath.

It was a clear jar with a sealed lid, preventing whatever creature inside from escaping. The jars curves blurred the details of the creature, but by the way it fluttered, she assumed her father had trapped some sort of butterfly. Suddenly reminded, her eyes went back to the wall of dead species and she shuddered at the thought of its fate. She had to do something.

The tink sounded again as the creature slammed itself against the side of the jar. It was still alive and trying to escape. She couldn't let this creature suffer the same fate as the dead butterflies. She had to free it.

Placing her hand on top of the lid, she carefully lifted it open. Stepping back, she waited for the creature to fly out. But it never did.

Frowning, she leaned over to look inside the opening of the jar. Her eyes widened. The thing in the jar wasn't an insect at all. It was a tiny man looking up at her with piercing green eyes.

A tiny man...with wings.

Shocked, she staggered back. Her foot slipped on a book and she fell, her head hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

She could have sworn she heard someone calling out to her as her eyelids fluttered closed, giving into the darkness.