Persephone Villania and the Army of The Dead

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: The Screaming Crow

ㅤPersephone pursed her lips and stared, thoroughly unimpressed at the cupboard that hid the little pest. She was supposed to be annoyed (and she was) but she couldn't help but feel second-hand embarrassment coursing through her body because of John's childish behaviour.

ㅤShe sat up and adjusted herself so her head rested against the headboard. She felt every ounce of sleepiness immediately leave her as she did so.

ㅤBy then, her eyes have adjusted already. The fragile hints of sunlight that seeped through the curtains delicately warmed her usually cold skin. Even though it was a very little amount of sunshine, a small chip of the burning ball up the sky, it dug deep into her bones and caressed it. It was a pleasant feeling to have.

***

ㅤBeyond the elegant curtains, was a busy street full of endowed and unendowed people. The endowed were divided into two sides long ago, the Heroes and the Villains but it has been long forgotten. At least, until the war of 2007. The year-long civil war between the citizens of the British Magickal Government was brutal, and if it weren't for the laws and spells guarding magickal and non-magickal properties, everything flammable and breakable in the country would have gone to rags.  

ㅤThe adults fought fiercely over who was the rightful leader to be chosen. Should it be Egor Jones, a man accused of sinister crimes, and a man born into a family of cruel intellect? Or should it be Damon Thompson, a seemingly airheaded but law-abiding man who was blessed with looks that could kill, a descendant of the great Marcus Thompson? Other candidates were held irrelevant to the citizens, now calling each other names, and reinforcing old prejudices that never really died.

ㅤAlas, it came to an end when President Damon won the position. The language that came with the old rivalry had been forced to be bit back when it comes to daily use. It still pops up, now and then, even some schools who valued unity had ironically started sorting children based on their family's old beliefs. 

ㅤAs Persephone started her morning rituals, the street continued to roar with traffic as usual. Not much different to before the civil war, except for a few snide remarks and stares exchanged between the endowed. Anyway, I keep getting sidetracked by this civil war shenanigans, back to the scenery.

ㅤThere were grand houses on either side of the street with trees in between each. On the trees were a few common starling birds. Some birds were soaring in the sky but out of all of them, there was one that stood out. It was because, for one, it seemed to have a sense of purpose, two, it certainly looked sophisticated, and three, it had a solitary gold feather.

ㅤIt flew in an impressively straight line towards a certain window that belonged to a certain villain who owned a certain moody alarm clock and is now covering her ears to block out its insufferable yammering.

ㅤThe Starlings that flew past looked at the serious bird and cocked their head. Once it got close enough to Persephone's window ledge, it landed with a soft thud and straightened its feathers, seeming to be imitating a man about to knock on a woman's door. It let the black envelope in its mouth fall and let its foot gently rest on it.

ㅤThe crow's polished beak hit the glass firmly twice. John was still complaining loudly, making the knock inaudible.