Chapter - 2

The man opened his eyes and found himself on top of a raised square-shaped platform connected to a long arching white bridge. He got surrounded by the white mist, which obscured the path, making it difficult to gauge the distance. He gawked around, wondering about what had happened.

He remembered being in a dark room, opening a yellow door. He looked around the platform and couldn't find any door.

The square platform had only one way to go.

That was towards the arching bridge. The man had no choice but to move forward.

He climbed the bridge with his bare feet. He ignored the pain, ignored the cold winds of winter, strong piercing winds that made him desire the light of the fire. He climbed on and on.

As the time strolled by, every step was like a knife tearing into his weakening muscles. The walk had made the man wonder if his journey was ceaseless.

A crow flew above him, gazing at with those dark eyes. He felt rage burning in the crow's eyes.

He felt the air shift, coldness shifting to unbearable heat. He felt the burning vengeance of the crow.

"Murderer," it called out in the voice of a youthful woman.

He evaded the sharp claws of the crow and broke into a run as fast as he could, but shortly ten crows with distinct voices belonging to different genders of varying ages came at him.

Their claws grazed him, leaving a bloody scar on his right hand.

He cried out for help, but nobody was there to help him. He pushed himself to climb the never-ending bridge. They left scars on his body, attacking him, again and again, his blood spilt, his cries unheard.

The accusations made him close his ears and pray to god to make them disappear.

There was only one way to end it, jump in the water. He could die if he fell on the water from such a height.

In the end, his doubt had only caused more suffering. The crows grew more and more agitated. Several of their comrades had paid a visit to inflict pain upon the human who had done unforgivable crimes. The crimes, he couldn't remember.

The memories were sealed, shielded by the powerful walls of his own making. Soon the man's hope to outrun these vengeful beings declined.

He wanted to jump over the bridge to escape the pain. Dying in the water was more painless than becoming the feast for the crows.

"Break the walls to claim the key. Then you can escape this torment," A voice of a woman, the voice of the owl, but he couldn't distinguish where it came from as several birds were surrounding him.

He couldn't jump, and the injuries were so painful, robbing him of his ability to run. The crows attacked the weakened man.

The crows plucked his eyes, tore him apart with their beaks and claws, spat his meat as if it was rotten. He experienced terrible pain, cried for mercy, cried for god's help. But in the end, they killed him and everything went black.

. They plucked his eyes balls scared his body and slowly tore his entire skin.