Short Story: Damn Birds

A look at life if Pepes were master…

You serve the Pepes!
Yes, master!

I remember happier times, times when I didn’t suffer from brutal-bird torment. I still remember the day when those damn birds scaled the Orbis Tower. We had no reports of anything, as those speed freaks climbed twenty stories in less then an hour during the dead of night. They assembled outside of everyone’s house, and at the precise same time, as if commanded by a greater Pepe, they attacked fiercely, and took all of us pathetic humans as their slaves. They renamed us, giving us dull, unimaginative names.

I am Slave # 54

I trudged slowly towards my mining camp, where I work for the Pepe’s profit. Every boring, repetitive day, twelve hours a day. It was utterly painful. Every day would leave even the strongest completely drained. As I continued down the paved, snowy path, my mind wandered, as I thought…

Why would Orbis be warm and El Nath be cold? Isn’t Orbis at a higher altitude, and therefore there should be less oxygen and more ice particles? El Nath is closer to hell, the burning Caves of Trial…

Before I had completed my thought, I was suddenly knocked down by a gale force wind. I barred my teeth, shutting my eyes to the freezing cold. God damn those birds, I thought…

Suddenly, from behind, I heard the squeaky voice of a Pepe.

”Foolish mortal! Leave your brainless contemplation for those who are truly learned!”

“And what gives you the right to take the authority of a god?” I rebuked.

“Insolent pest!”

Without warning, the Pepe’s eyes suddenly glowed red, and it charged at me. I had no chance. With a great leap, it lodged its deadly sharp beak into my back. I howled with searing pain. As the Pepe removed its beak, warm blood gushed out of my wound.

“Get back to work now, before I drive another through you!”

Wordlessly, I continued my trek down the icy path, towards another monotonous day at work.

As I mindlessly hit my pickaxe against the rocks, looking for valuable minerals, my mind wandered again…

Why the freaking hell did god have to punish us this way? Its one thing to let them take us captive, but it gets to a whole new level when they give the damned birds the freaking authority to talk their freaking beaks off and peck us to half death! And those ghostly, eerie eyes…!

I just shuddered at the thought, and continued my most dreadful, meaningless work.

“Slaves, stand ready!”

We all stood with our back straight as the Pepes inspected our hands. They look for signs of how well you worked. If a miner had many minerals and or traces of valuables on their hands, which would mean that they’d get more rations at the next Mass Distribution. The Mass Distribution occurred every week, and the slaves were provided bare essentials for survival. The quantity and quality, however was slightly dependant on how well one worked, and proficient workers received more.

I had the poor luck to have the Pepe who assaulted me to be my inspector. I tried to stand without moving, but I had butterflies in my stomach, and before it even approached me, I was shaking all over.

“Slave # 54!”

“Yes, master Pepe?”

“What have you mined this past week?”

”Er, the caves have been hard on me, kind sir…” I began to stutter.

“We DON’T support lousy workers! Fool. You will either mine double this week, or suffer the-“

Before the Pepe had the chance to finish its sentence, I lunged at it with all my strength. I actually managed to knock the repulsive piece of lard down. Quickly brushing myself off, I ran towards the exit with all my strength…

To have a Pepe beak lodged in my back.

I howled in pain yet again.

How the hell do those damn birds run so fast?

The Pepes then dragged me to an isolated wing of the mining complex. I’ve never been there before, and rumours say that it was the Research and Development Laboratories that only Pepes had access to.

“Ignorant fool. You shall suffer the consequences!”, muttered a particularly evil looking Pepe.

“No. Its more of an honour than a consequence…”.

They dragged me until I was in front of a locked room. The label read:

”The Chambers of Discreation”

“NO! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO ME?”

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Credits

Name inspired by the game: Damn Birds. The picture was from Hidden Street. The content of the story inspired by the Undead race of Warcraft III, and my imagination running free

Damn Birds Picture.

I really enjoyed writing this story.

Questions, flames, comments etc. welcome.