End of the Crow: Death to the Villain's Sin
Prologue
Death is constant.
It begins the moment we’re born. When we start to live is also when we begin to die. It’s life and life is uncertain, if not completely erratic. Chaos is everywhere and there needs to be a balance – a scale if you will that harmonizes the universe equally of good and evil. Sometimes the scale tips and things need to be set right.
That’s where nature comes in; or more specifically, a crow.
You see, a crow is symbolic. It represents death, an ending cycle of one thing and a beginning of another.
That’s where this all starts.
It begins with death and ends in something most in our lifetime will never see – a reawakening of a soul passed. For how can an energy move on if their heart was heavily pained the moment of their untimely cessation?
I’m here to tell his story – the one he no longer remembers or is aware of. For his time here on earth is passed and he finally rests again beside a hollow tree, atop of a large hill with a memorial plaque in front of it with the silver of metal from the mark reflecting the light rays of sun that peaked across the burning horizon.
A black crow is perched docilely on the tree in the lowest branch, following your gaze with patient precision.
You’re curious now, aren’t you?
If you look down at the plaque you will see a mirrored image of fire skies atop a name with grass around freshly dug dirt over a grave. If you glance further, you will see it is the only resting place that has been put in this patch of land. The other fleshes lay further down the hill, his is the only one with a serene view over the dead; allowing him to sleep in eternal peace.
His name, you may wonder?
Look at the plaque and in the reflection of the sunrise you might see it.
Most only know him as the last crow; but before rebirth, he was a man – mortal like you and me.
Go on, gaze down and if you cannot quite see it clearly, then stare up into the crow’s soul and you will see the image that feeds your curiosity; because that’s human nature – the wanting and need to know.
Sometimes though, knowing something is the very thing that gets you killed. It’s what got him deprived of his existence and the very reason he now lays in silence under the cold dirt.
The vision is becoming clearer in the black abyss of the death bird’s orbs and soon becomes completely unclouded. You continuing glaring at the creature in full concentration and he simply peers back, because once you know his story, it will stay with you forever. Just as it had with the ones before.
Who are they exactly?
The damned.
Close your eyes and turn away now if you are easily frightened, because his tale is dark - perhaps the darkest you will ever see.
Are you sure you’re ready?
Alright.
Then continue to peer up and let the secrets of his past reveal themselves. Just remember – I warned you.
In the oculars reflect of the black bird, you can see the name clearly now – the name who this story begins and ends with, it’s written clearly in the black hells of his eyes:
HARRY EDWARD STYLES
Born: February 1st, 1994
Died: December 11th, 2018
Beloved friend, brother and son.
Now you know and it is at this point I leave you. My introduction is over, but I am not abandoning you completely. I am still going to tell you what happened…just in a slightly different way.
Follow the crow and he will guide you to a time before now, a time where the balance was still equal in the world of good and evil. Because that’s where this all truly begins.
