The wet scent of blood soaked the air. Desperately, Lucius shook his hands free of the dripping red liquid, but it never seemed to end.

What am I supposed to do? He thought. I've just killed a man, and now I have to– now I have to–

He stood up and turned southeast toward a river he recalled seeing from his aircraft. This isn't hard, I just have to– Suddenly his pace halted. I'm just supposed to clean up and pretend this never happened. The reality of what he did was beginning to sink in.

I killed him.

The river, red with blood, glimmered in the light of the moon. The reflection of the white moon danced across the surface of the water. The water was cold, but clean, and Lucius almost felt refreshed after cleaning himself of the blood.

The face of the dead man haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, it glared back – lifeless eyes wide, mouth gaping. He thrust his face into his cold, wet hands, hoping it'd bring him out of his terror. It didn't.

People die every day, and what are we supposed to do about it? The world moves on. You can't spare a whole lot of time for grieving. Society isn't built that way. I have to get over this. There's going to be dozens more people I'll have to–

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Murder. He would have to murder them.

I'm just doing my job.

Or so he told himself that.

A magpie circled above him. Lucius felt its eyes staring into him. It soon landed in a tree nearby, all the while maintaining eye contact with him.

"What are you looking at?" He spoke sarcastically at the animal. Magpies are intelligent animals. Maybe it'll have something to say. He almost laughed at the thought. The bird continued to stare.

"Got a problem?" He smiled this time.

"Chirp", said the bird.

HUH?!

Lucius pointed his gun at the magpie. "Don't do that, smartass." His voice was unsteady, as were his hands.

"What? I'm just chirping," the bird replied. Before his eyes, the bird transformed into a humanoid figure, with hair as black as the bird's feathers. The man pointed his own gun at Lucius.

The face of the man he killed returned to him. Lucius released his grip on his gun and held his hand in the air – a universal signal of peace. The other man did the same.

He couldn't do it again. He wouldn't.

He turned around and ran. Slowly at first, but Lucius soon broke into a sprint.

Meanwhile, the other man once again took upon a bird form, and followed.

Is socializing worth the effort?