I did not remember how long I lay in that bed. I could not recall the faces of anyone who visited me, nor their names. What I did remember were the clean white walls and ceiling. The beeping medical appliances. The dripping IV. What sickness bound me? I did not know. But I was glad it was over. The last thing I took from that world was the feeling of someone holding my hand and gently caressing it as I drifted off into the empty. Spreading my wings and gently gliding through a vast nothing. No colour, no light, no smell, nothing with any definition anywhere around me.

‘Wait, wings? I am pretty sure humans do not have wings. And I am also pretty sure I am human. Or at least I was. I guess I died?’

Maybe these were the last conscious thoughts my dying mind was producing before I disappeared? I flapped my wings. They felt strong and large, much better than the feeble movements I could make in those last weeks with my flabby and sick human arms.

There was no wind rushing through my face, even though I was flying. I guess this was the limit of my imagination? I turned my head to look at myself. To the left and right, wings spread out for gliding. Large wings, feathers a dark brown near the bones and white with brown splotches and with lines near the end of the plumes. My plumes. How wonderful it was to move.

My head turned farther than I expected. I could even look at my right wing when I turned my head to the left far enough. My body was also feathered, so I guess I was a bird now? With this range of head-turning, I was probably some kind of owl. Those were the only birds I remembered being able to turn their head this much.

I turned my vision back forward.

‘Watch where you’re flying! Don’t want to smack into a wall.’

Although it would have to be an invisible wall, the way nothing seemed to be here, wherever I was. And now I jinxed it. I started flapping my wings. If my imagination could make anything appear, maybe it would do something once I flew further. So I accelerated and rushed onwards. With no reference, I had zero clues about how fast I was going, but I felt rather quick. Maybe even faster than a car?

Slowly something started to change in front of me. In the middle of this colourless nothingness, a soft orange glow appeared, at first small but quickly growing larger. I stopped flapping my wings but I did not decelerate. How could I know how far away this light was? Better to keep some speed and try to react. Which was exactly the moment I smacked into something my whole body curling up into a fetal position.

‘Ouch. That hurt.’

It did not feel like I broke anything, and the pain was quickly fading, but when I tried to unfold my wings they were blocked by some kind of wall. My head was pressed into my chest as well by a similar wall. I struggled. With all the force I could muster I pressed into the walls. Nothing. I was too weak. Why? Did I hate my life this much even in death I could not be free?

I struggled again. Something caught on a movement of my head. A small thump resonated through my body. I tried to open my eyes. They did not open. It was almost pitch black, only a slight orange-red tint glinted through my closed eyelids.

Where was I? What was going on? Did some god or devil imprison my soul for their sick experiment?

‘Someone please help me! Argh!’

I did not think anyone could hear my thoughts, so I moved my head again, trying to get the same response I felt before. After a bit of testing, I found my mouth hit something when I moved my head forward. Though, if I was still an owl, then this would be my beak hitting the wall, right? And so I pressed my head forward again and again. My feet and arms (wings?) gave me leverage pushing off the walls as well. Maybe I could break this shell.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Struggle

This was absolutely exhausting! I did not think moving could ever be this hard, and I was bedridden for years, probably! But I did notice some progress after a while. My beak seemed to have formed a small furrow in the walls. Struggling even more I turned a tiny bit and pressed my beak on the walls to widen the scratch. Everything shook with that one movement. Oh wow. Now I was kinda dizzy.

Suddenly my ears picked up a soft cooing. It seemed to come from outside the walls. The slight orange light completely disappeared for a moment. Then a thump sounded out louder than any I had produced since I had been trapped in here. More shaking.

‘Stop it! Whoever you are, this makes me feel sick! Urgh!’

The soft light came back. My tormentor seemed to have given me some space. So I kept struggling. And struggling. And struggling. For what felt like hours I turned and scratched and turned and scratched. And then I finished the furrow. With one last press: crack! Freedom! The shell ruptured along the furrow and I could move.

But I was exhausted and I just lay down, breathing hard. Wait, breathing? Did I breathe before now? The whole time, since I started gliding through that nothingness, did I ever take a single breath? I think I did not. Did that mean I was alive now? Did I get reborn like in one of those cringy Japanese web novels? But there was no goddess, granting me cheat-like powers? No Quest to save the races of light from the evil demon king?

Well… I did not know how I got here. But I certainly was alive. I could feel my breath slowing down a little. Something hard pressed into my sides. And a shadow fell over me. Oh no, was something trying to eat me? I was just born, please be nice, please be nice! Gentle cooing met my silent pleas. Now that the walls were no longer in the way, it was a lot clearer. This was hooting. An owl. And the walls, were those.. my egg? Was I an owl now? Did I have a status menu or something, to tell me what I was?

Species: Great Eagle Owl (young)

Age: 0

Name: -

Gender: female

Status: sapient, healthy

Level: 1

Class: -

Strength: 1

Constitution: 1

Dexterity: 2

Perception: 4

Intelligence: 12

Wisdom: 8

AP: 0

Skills: locked

‘Oh, you have to be kidding!’