Goodbye my songbird..

Songbirds live like anything in life—singing life’s tunes.

Memories flash all at once: a girl standing in front of a bus, kids playing with frogs.

These are my memories, my life, my songs.

The girl was my best friend—
A person who was my everything.

The kids were my childhood friends.
We used to play with frogs, pretending they were our pets.

Cut to a young boy taking a video of himself.
“My name is Quentin Jackson, and I’m 13,” the boy says with a wide smile.

“What are you doing, Quentin?”
The camera shifts to an older boy.
“Say hi, Carter!”
“Put that thing away,” Carter mutters, rolling his eyes.

Cut to a woman cooking in the kitchen.
“That looks tasty, Mom.”
“I know, right?” she says, turning to give a warm smile.

“I see you’ve got Dad’s old camera out,” Mom says, chuckling.
“Yeah! I wanna be a movie star.”
“A movie star, huh?” She laughs. “Well, my little movie star needs to put the camera away and get ready to eat.”

Cut to a man sitting in a chair.
“So, what are you watching, Dad?”
“Do you really always gotta record?”
“Yes! Now what are you watching?”
“Pulp Flicktion. And anyway, you’re not even supposed to be in the living room—this movie’s too graphic.”
“Awww…” Quentin groans.

Cut to Quentin standing in front of the camera again. He looks a bit older now.
“I am Quentin Jackson, and I’m 15,” he says, turning the camera toward his brother.

“That’s my annoying brother,” Quentin said, turning the camera back toward himself with a cheeky grin.

The scene cut to a shaky close-up of a rabbit on a table. Its small body lay still as Quentin’s voice narrated behind the lens.

“This is Mr. Muffins,” he explained matter-of-factly. “He died not too long ago, and I was curious to see what’s inside.”

The camera zoomed in slowly, focusing on the rabbit’s opened stomach.

—

Present Day, 2025

“Babeeee! Babeeee!” a girl’s voice shouted from a distance.

“Oh, hey, Loko,” an older Quentin said, turning toward her with a casual smile.

“I was calling your phone for hours and you didn’t pick up. I was getting worried,” Loko said, crossing her arms but smiling with relief.

“Sorry, my songbird,” Quentin replied with a grin.

“It’s okay… I love when you call me that,” she said, giggling softly.

“I know,” Quentin teased.

“Gosh, I know we’ve only been dating for like two weeks or whatever, but it feels like I’ve known you my whole life,” Loko said, her smile bright.

“It’s actually three weeks,” Quentin corrected, pulling out his phone just as a series of notifications went off.

“Who are you texting?” she asked, peeking curiously.

“Some of the guys,” he said.

“Oh! Tell them I said hi!” she chirped.

“I will,” Quentin replied, still smiling.

She stepped a little closer. “Do you wanna go back to my place for a bit and hang out? Since it’s been a few days.”

“Sure,” he said, “But first, I need to swing by my place for a bit.”

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I come along?”

“Not at all,” Quentin said warmly.

They started walking together down the street.

“But about what I was saying earlier,” Loko continued, her voice softer now. “Doesn’t it feel like it was meant to be? Like… right when I met you, I just knew you were the one. Before that, I was in such a dark place—with my mom being in the hospital and the bills piling through the roof—but it’s like it was fate for us to meet at that coffee shop.”

“Mhm,” Quentin muttered, eyes still glued to his phone as he typed.

“Loko, did you know a shoebill bird decapitates its prey with its massive beak?” Quentin said suddenly, not looking up. “It’s actually one of the most dangerous birds in the wild.”

“I… did not know that,” she replied awkwardly, forcing a small laugh. “Sounds cool, though.”

Cut to Quentin opening a door to his apartment

“Do you want me to wait outside?” Loko asked.

“No, you can come inside,” Quentin said, gesturing for her to follow.

She stepped in and made her way to the couch, sitting down comfortably while Quentin disappeared into another room.

Loko reached for the remote and tried turning on the TV, but nothing happened. She pressed the power button again—still nothing.

“Is something wrong with your TV?” she called out.

“I don’t use my TV unless it’s for VHS tapes,” Quentin shouted back from the other room. The sound of shuffling echoed faintly through the apartment.

“You still use VHS?” Loko asked, giggling a little.

No answer.

“I guess I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured to herself, pulling out her phone.

The apartment was dead silent, aside from the occasional soft shuffling coming from the room Quentin was in. The quietness felt almost heavy, wrapping around her as she scrolled aimlessly through her screen.

It felt like hours had passed. Loko finally looked up from her phone—and froze.

Quentin was standing in the hallway, holding an axe.

“Quentin…?” she said softly, taken aback.

“You remember when we went on our first date?” Quentin asked, his voice oddly calm.

“Yeah…” she replied slowly.

“And I told you I love camping,” he continued, stepping a little closer. “I wanted to surprise you and say we’re going camping together.”

“Right now…?” she asked, uneasiness creeping into her tone.

“Sure, why not?” Quentin said with a smile, walking toward her.

“But I thought we were going to hang out at my place. And I don’t even have the right clothes or anything,” Loko said nervously.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Quentin replied cheerfully.

She swallowed. “Also… what were you doing in that room for so long?”

“Do you want to see? Go in there. Check it out,” Quentin said, still smiling.

“Hehe… I’m okay,” she answered, laughing nervously.

“I insist,” Quentin said in a casual tone. “Since you were wondering what I was doing in there for so long.”

“I–I don’t want to, Quentin. This all feels weird,” Loko stammered, her hands beginning to tremble.

“What’s so weird about this?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“What’s so weird? You come out with an axe and say we’re going camping. You were in that room for, I don’t know, an hour or so. And now you’re telling me to go look, even though I made it clear I don’t want to!” she said, her voice rising.

“Trust me, songbird,” Quentin said softly, smiling in a way that made her stomach twist. “Would I really do anything to you? After all, you’re the one for me.”

“I trust you babe”She says calm coming over her face

As she slowly stepped into the room, Quentin’s voice rang out behind her.

“So, what do you think?” he asked joyfully.

Loko’s eyes scanned the space. Her stomach twisted. All she could see were trash bags piled around the room—brown liquid slowly seeping out of them and pooling on the floor.

“It smells really bad in here… What is this?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she began to shake.

“It’s women’s body parts,” Quentin replied calmly, almost cheerfully.

“What…?” Loko froze, her blood running cold.

“Yeah, I know. It must sound scary,” Quentin continued in that same calm tone. “But it’s not all that bad once you get used to dead corpses.”

“D-dead corpses?” she stammered.

“Yeah,” he said casually, as if explaining something obvious. “Like, when someone’s dead, they’re considered a corpse. How do you not know this? Gosh—my little songbird is special as always.”

He lowered the axe to the floor with a soft clunk, still smiling.

“You know,” Quentin went on, “I always slice up the body when I’m done with them. But you… you remember I told you about that bird?”

“No… no…” Loko shook uncontrollably, frozen in terror.

“It wasn’t that long ago. Must’ve not been paying attention, songbird,” Quentin said lightly. “Well, shoebill birds decapitate their prey with their massive beaks. And I thought that was an interesting little conundrum. So I figured… why not try it out? Since everyone I kill is usually stabbed. All my little songbirds…”

He tilted his head slightly, smiling. “So… what do you think, songbird?”

Loko didn’t answer. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Cat got your tongue, I see,” Quentin murmured. His smile widened. “Well… goodbye, my little songbird.”

He raised the axe high above his head—
and brought it down.

Blood sprayed across the room as Loko was decapitated on the spot.

Cut to quentin chopping her body up in a dark room with a tarmac on the floor

You know… as I cut flesh, I can’t stop thinking about my first catch, Quentin thought to himself, bringing the blade down and severing the girl’s arm with a wet thud.

I was eighteen, he continued in his mind, and already friends with this girl. She was a little younger than me—sixteen, I think. And, well… as any animal does, it’s in their nature to stalk and kill.

Blood dripped steadily from the blade as he grabbed her other arm.

I don’t like to say I “kill” my victims. It’s more like… I’m dealing with hunger. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to sleep. But I have to.

He swung the blade again, cutting off the other arm cleanly.

And like an animal… sometimes I like to have my way with some of my prey, he mused darkly. This one, though—she was ugly. Not very cute.

As he sliced through her leg, Quentin let out a shaky laugh.

“And you guys never leave me… you love me,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder.

Behind him stood Loko and the others—his victims. All of their faces, except Loko’s, were scratched out beyond recognition, smeared and carved away.

“You all love me,” he whispered, a twisted smile spreading across his face. “Because you’re my songbirds.”