File 04

Fuck. I hate long road trips. Which is what I got today. Turns out we were somewhere near Lake Champlain in Vermont. Sylvia and I followed the Convocation in the Car. They didn’t stop until they reached the Bleak Shore, or what seems to be it. Turns out it’s on the shoreline about 2 miles east of Cutler, Maine, which is odd, cause there’s like, military stuff there.

          That was Nine hours of driving without stopping, sometimes far above the speed limit to keep up with the Flock. She’s asleep as I’m writing this back in the proximity of a house in Cutler with unprotected Wi-fi. The scary thing is….I’ve been here before, long ago. The Bleak Shore, that is. I fucking SWAM here. And I kept noticing the “odd little birdies.” That were eyeing me suspiciously. I was six at the time. As I swam, my parents got progressively more and more nervous and worried-looking, and they eventually decided that it was time to go and took me back to the motel in Machias.

          Anyways, there are no roads at the Bleak Shore, but it is a beach, albeit an unused one. So Sylvia waited in the car and snoozed while I went with my notebook and pen to see what I could find about the Convocation.

There were…….millions of them. It’s May, yet all the trees are bare. There’s very little sand, much less than I remember, the bare rock jutting up from the ocean. Truly, this shore has become fitting of it’s name. I can see why it’s unused now. I sat down on a rock and began writing.

File 04: The Convocation

Alternate Names: PRE13, Fossil-Type LARKS, Subject Charlie Ontario, The Morphs, The Storm, The Flock, Thunderbirds, Ziz, Collectors, The Yatagarasu

Attitude Toward Humans: Hostile, though necessary for survival

Control Over: Storms, Lightning, Possibly All Birds

The Convocation is intriguing to look at. As a flock, they look like a giant purple mass, spotted with red eyes and yellow beaks. When they’re flying, they look more like a flock or Robins or Crows than something to be feared. As a matter of principle, they seem to hate humans with a passion, though they realize they’re necessary for survival. They peck out your face or chest and eat your internal organs, then lay their eggs within you. You lay comatose for a little while, until the eggs hatch, and the chicks are then inside you. You regain conciousness, with no pain, and you are now a servant to them. The Birds allow you to use lightning and it’s reported that some servants can fly, but this is not confirmed. In return, however, Nests, the servants to the Birds, have to do their bidding, which is usually told to them via telepathy.

Now, something that strikes me personally as interesting is their droppings. Unlike normal bird scat, which is white, this is an odd indigo color. Poking it with a stick, I see it’s far more dense than most. Now, for their cry….it’s horrible. Loud, obnoxious squawking.

After that, I decided to leave. Upon getting back to the car, I found several Nests standing around the car, and Sylvia against a tree, a Nest trying to get her to have sex with him. All I had on me was my combat knife. That was all I needed. I rushed up to him and stabbed him in the shoulder, grabbed Sylvia, and ran to the car. I had to leave my knife buried in him, and the other nests ran over to help him, completely forgetting about us. We got in the car and drove out of there as fast as we could. Now we’re here, tomorrow we’ll be going back to the Empty City.

~Thompson out.