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The eleven year old boy awoke, all his limbs except his wings were bounded by thick rope. He couldn’t see anything so he called out into the coldness, “Hello? Is anyone there?” His soft voice echoed around the chamber. He tried flapping his wings but the rope threw off all his balance and all he accomplished was sending more cold gusts of air into the cold room.
he heard a soft chuckle,” Good morning pretty boy.” he heard soft footsteps click towards him and a rough, calloused hand gripped his chin and tilted his head up. After a few seconds, the captor grunted, “Why aren’t you scared?”
“Well I can’t see you sir, I’m blind.” The man backed away as if it were contagious and coughed, “I didn’t know that.”
The silence was so loud and after what felt like an eternity the man asked, “What is your name?”
“Milo.”
“Ah a pretty name for such a pretty boy.” The man cooed and Milo began feeling uncomfortable from all the compliments, “Why do you keep calling me pretty?”
The creepy man walked forward again and Milo shivered as he felt the man’s hand brush over his cheek, “Because you are pretty with these pretty little freckles and…” The man’s hand moved to caress his wings and their feathers, “…these lovely feathers.”
The man’s hand kept touching his wings and Milo began to feel salty tears form in his eyes, “Please stop.”
“Oh but how could I? I just love them so much I could just… take them for myself.” Milo’s breath hitched and the man moved away. Milo heard some metallic rustling and the footsteps came close again.
The hand gripped his hair roughly and Milo screamed he felt a sharp tip angled delicately break the skin on his cheek, “But first I’ll take these precious little freckles, as an appetizer y’know?” The man huffed excitedly.
“W-wait-…please!” Milo pleaded but as soon as the words left his mouth, the man jerk slashed a line across his face. Milo screamed and cried as he felt everything. He could feel the man’s dirty hand gripping his hear to keep him steady, he could feel the rope burns against his skin as he shifted, he felt all the hot blood pouring down his face and worst of all he could feel the blade under his epidermis, slowly shaving off more and more skin.
before he knew it, his consciousness has slipped away from him.
* * *
He awoke on the cold cement floor and felt a stabbing burning sensation all over his face and wings. he weakly lifted his hand up and brushed it against his boney wings. What met him made him start to cry again. All his feathers were gone, the creep had roughly hacked at the roots until their were none left, leaving him with nothing but the now empty structure of his wings.
he sobbed in pain and frustration of the damp floor, wet with his blood.
He heard a door creak open and he wanted to retreat but he was too weak so he just laid there limply.
“OH SHIT!” A voice called but it sounded more like two voices at once in perfect sync. He felt someone press to fingers to his neck, “GUYS HE HAS A PULSE! Listen bud, I’m Spige were going to help.” and thats all Milo heard before he faded out of consciousness.
* * *
“…and that’s why my feathers are so thin, they are still growing back!” Milo joked, he was 18 now and quite enjoyed working in the circus.
Casper and Courtney had approached him earlier about his feathers being thinner than other avians. They now looked at him in complete horror after he recapped his story… “What the fuck, Milo?”