The bird and the pup

A quick story I threw together after a flash of inspiration. It's kinda rushed and I really could do with redrafting it, but I'm sort of lazy when it comes to redrafting. If people really like it then I might turn it into a full story, hope you enjoy =D


1. Poor little pup, lost and alone



“Poor little puppy, lost and alone.” The girl said, humming the words like a merry tune. The boy raised his head from his huddled position.

“Wh- who’re you?” He said through sniffles of tears.

“Hm, little ol’ me? Why, I’m a pretty little bird, watching the lost pup from the tree branches.” She replied, smiling.

“Are- are you an angel?” He asked. In his eyes, her long blonde hair, her crystal blue eyes, she was regal and beautiful. Though he was still ten years old and he’d never truly experienced something else like this, he was sure this was the love that everyone in the orphanage seemed to seek.

“Nah, I’m just a little bird, watching the little puppy wail and moan for its mommy.” She said, yet despite the concern in her words she spoke them without sympathy. “Why’re you here crying anyway? A puppy should have a pack, shouldn’t it?”

“The others are mean, they keep teasing me,” he admitted through another bout of tears, “they keep picking on me and they never let me play with them.”

“Poor little pup, lost and alone.” She repeated the incessant name, calling him ‘pup’ was a little degrading, but it was nothing new. In fact, someone calling him a nickname, even if it was one he disliked, made him a little happy. “So tell me, lost little pup, why’re you here, scared and crying?” she asked again. He didn’t want to repeat the answer, but he felt like he had to, for some reason.

“They don’t like me.” He said quietly.

“Hm, I couldn’t hear you right; your yelping’s too quiet.” The girl said.

“They hate me! Everyone hates me!” He yelled loudly. Then stopped himself, he didn’t want to say that, least of all to a stranger.

“Poor little pup,” she said softly, “lost and deluded. Not everyone hates you,” she pointed to herself, “I don’t hate you.” Tears welled up in his eyes again. There was something about her, something that brought out all of his weakness and spat it in his face; yet, he didn’t care. For all the humiliation and pain he felt around her, he also felt a strange sense of serenity, like she was soothing his problems, all the while she was adding fuel to the fire. He hated this feeling of weakness around her, yet he wanted her to be around him, like a sick, twisted kind of addiction. He ran over and hugged her, sobbing into her clothes, crying harder than he ever had before. He spent many minutes crying, unable to restrain himself like he could in the past, and she just waited there for him patiently, patting his head, soothing him like a mother and a child. Even though they were both children, even though they were the same age, even though they’d known each other for a choice few minutes, their bond was plain and easy to see.

“… Poor little pup, lost and in pain, unable to help yourself,” She pulled them both apart, gazing into his tear ridden face, “do you want to be strong, or do you want to be saved?” She asked, sounding about a thousand years old, yet that childish tone remained.

“I just want this to stop, I want them to stop, I want to spend more time with you.” He replied, still crying.

“Then come with me,” she said with a warm smile, “The birdy’ll help you. I’ll keep you safe, lost little pup.”


The blonde haired girl arrived at the orphanage, still smiling and holding the boys hand. A bunch of other boys who were playing around with a ball came over. “Look at him, he’s been crying.” They laughed. The boy retreated behind the girl, who acknowledged his fear.

“Were you the ones that hurt my lost little pup?” She asked, yet there was still kindness in her tone, that perpetual kindness that the boy cherished so much.

“Yeah, so, what’re you gonna do ‘bout it? You’re just a girl.” He went to push the girl, but she grabbed his hand. He initially seemed shocked, but he didn’t have much time for shock, the girl was already twisting his hand to breaking point.

“Ow ow ow, let me go, let me go.” He pleaded, falling and writhing on the floor, almost screaming in pain.

“I’m not a little girl,” she said, her smile seeming twisted from its normal state, “I’m a little birdy, with its wings spread and out for food.” She twisted his hand to the point that his bone snapped, thrusting through his skin and spreading crimson on the floor. “Poor little pups,” she said, turning to the rest of the boys, raising some kind of knife, “picking on the easy prey because you’re in a pack.”


The boys were initially too shocked to run, but they quickly got over their fear when one of their friends got a blade through the throat. She drew the blade out and spread the boy’s blood over the coarse grass, landing in a vicious arc. She then ran after the other two, tackling one and pinning him to the floor, stabbing the blade through his heart, again and again. Smiling maniacally as blood covered her, still she persisted in her brutal assault. She stood as the final boy who’d been bullying her precious pup quivered in fear. “What’s it like?” She asked, licking her blade clean of the blood on it, savouring the violence, “this fear, this panic that you make others feel, what’s it like to feel it for yourself? Let it etch into your heart, this memory, this fear, never forget what you make others go through.”

“Y- Y- You’re a-” The bully tried to say, but the words caught themselves in a knot in his throat.

“I’m a what?” She asked, her voice still kind and warm, only adding to the confusion the boy felt.

“You’re a monster!” He turned and ran, but the girl threw the knife at him, catching his spine. He fell to the floor with a blood-curdled scream, yet still he tried to crawl away. She walked over and twisted the blade in his back, revelling in the screaming and torment he felt.

“I’m not a monster.” She said, still wearing that maniacal smile. She pulled the blade out and toyed with the wound, poking and prodding it with the knife as he slowly bled out and died. “I’m not a monster,” she said with a chirp, “I’m a little birdy, simply seeking shelter from the storm.”


The boy, watching the violence before him, he just couldn’t believe it, how could someone so kind, so sweet, so gentle, suddenly turn into a mass murdering psychopath so quickly? She turned to him, smiling warmly. “You look funny, little pup.” She laughed nicely, as though she hadn’t, in fact, killed a group of people who had done her no wrong.

“You… killed them…” He choked out in disbelief.

“Yep, they were mean to my little pup, so I killed them, now they won’t bother you anymore.

“You… Why..?” His fists were shaking in a fit of rage. “Why did you kill them?!” He shouted as loud as he could. She just looked confused.

“What do you mean, little pup? I thought you wanted this.” She said. The revelation hit him like a brick, “you said you wanted them to stop; now they have stopped. I thought this was what you wanted.” He fell to his knees, holding back vomit that threatened to explode from him. Then it came, the smell. The combined stench of fear, blood and urine sent him over the edge. He convulsed on the floor, spilling the contents of what little dinner he could stomach.

“Are you alright, little pup?”

“Don’t come over here!” He yelled, barely having the strength to get up from his knees. “You, you’re not human, you’re… you’re a demon!” He turned and ran, unable to do anything else, but still what else was there to do? He was just a lost, weak little puppy, unable to help itself, having to rely on everyone to do everything for him, even if that was murder.


She raised a hand and started to shout after him, but she couldn’t, if he didn’t want her to follow him, then she wouldn’t. “… You were my first friend, since coming here, I just wanted to make you happy, you were the first person to talk to me ever since…” She trailed off, dropping the bloodied knife on the floor, “I guess daddy was right, there isn’t much point pretending to be human.” She walked away from the corpses, away from her little pup, away from this life, arriving at a bridge. “… It’d be best if I just ended everything now, no-one would miss me anyway.” She started to feel something she hadn’t before, remorse. She brought her hands to her face, they felt… wet. “Am I… crying? Then I guess I’m just like you, little pup.” She laughed humourlessly. “I’m just a sick, broken excuse for a human.” She fell into the water. “I’m just a poor little bird that’s lost its wings.”

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