In Trench I'm Not Alone

Things had been so fuzzy since Tyler had gotten his new room. He had almost no recollection of what made the Bishops move him from his perfectly fine apartment on the outskirts of the City to what was essentially a prison in the heart of Dema.

Where the heathens lived.

Why was he here? He wasn't one of them, was he? In this cold, dark room, furnished only by a bed, a wardrobe filled with gray clothes, and a dresser with nothing in it, save for a mirror on top.

Days passed, and Tyler felt himself start to slowly go insane, feeling trapped, isolated, in his lonely room, so high up off the ground.

The sun was setting, the hills its grave. The sky burned, and a bird flew out of the sky, settling neatly on the window sill.

A vulture, its head bare of feathers, cocked its head at him, looking strangely curious.

Tyler stared at it for a moment, the tiniest sense of dread starting to poke at his stomach. Did this mean he was going to die? Unlikely, though it was unsettling that a vulture, out of everything that could have landed on his windowsill, was the thing that was visiting him. But when it showed no signs of leaving, Tyler stood from his bed, moving to open the window. It wasn't like he had anything to lose, and maybe opening the window would scare it away.

When it continued to sit there, it's head tilted to look up at him with its beady eyes, Tyler did the only thing he could think of. "Um. Hello," he greeted awkwardly, unsure as to why he was trying to speak to a bird, but it only seemed right when the bird in question seemed so polite.

The vulture gave a little squawk, hopping past the sill and over to the bed, landing clumsily on it and opening its claws, letting a rolled up piece of paper fall onto the blanket.

Tyler blinked at the bird, his nose scrunching up in confusion. The bird nodded towards the paper, then hopped back over to the window, jumping out and taking flight, soaring up, up, up, then over the wall into Trench.

Tyler slowly closed the window, his actions slow with disbelief. Birds knew how to deliver letters? With the obvious exception of carrier pigeons, he had never heard of such a thing.

Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the mattress bending under his slight weight, and reached for the letter, unrolling it the best he could.

I could take the high road, but I know that I'm going low.

The note was written in neat all-caps, something about the handwriting felt mildly comforting, though the note itself was strange and meant nothing to Tyler. But still, the spot of dread grew in his stomach, making him feel almost sick.

Who was sending him letters? Was this a threat? Vultures were known throughout Dema as things that feed on pain, a symbol of death and decay, maybe the sending of that bird was an omen. Maybe whatever Tyler had done to earn himself this room was enough for someone to want to harm him.

He unrolled the note a bit more, hoping for something that would clue him in to what was happening, but the only other writing was words he had never heard nor seen before, inked into the paper with the same handwriting.

Sahlo Folina

Tyler stared at the yellowed paper longer than he realized, then rolled it back up and tucked it under his mattress. If this was a threat, the worst that could happen, realistically, would be him dying, and really, was that all that bad?

***

A day passed, the sun rising and setting before the vulture returned, kindly dropping off a second letter.