Acre
Acre sat in his chair brooding. A few birds had landed nearby and he pulled a pouch of seeds from his pocket. "Well my friends, how do you kill?" He scattered the seeds in front of him and waited for the birds to come and feast. He sat and thought about his life thus far, about his luck, and most importantly, about his future. "You don't kill for food, seeds are all you need." He said to the hungry birds. "And only humans kill for sport. Suddenly, all the birds took off in a quick motion. "Where are you going friends?" Acre called as he stood, reaching for his binoculars. Looking high in the sky, he saw a dark threatening shape. "I know thee, sir falcon." He muttered under his breath. He reached for his book before realizing he had forgotten it. "I will record thee with my eyes and name you at another time."
He watched as, quick as lightning, the falcon shot down on the flock. Bursting through them with a small bird in it's talons. It spread it's wings and began fling away to enjoy it's meal when the flock began its revenge. "I've never seen a mobbing." Acre said as he adjusted his binoculars for a better view. The falcon was fighting a losing battle, there were too many of the little birds and it stubbornly clung to it's prey. Without it's talons, it could only beat at the other birds with its wings. Then the falcon fell. It spiraled downward with a screech, its final words before the passage into the next world. The small birds beat at it till a few dozen meters above the ground, then retreated as it hit the ground hard.
Acre jumped from the building, barely remembering to catch himself before he hit the ground, then sprinted over to the fallen falcon. It was dead, but it stubbornly clung to it's final catch, it's last victory. Examining it, he could see that it was starving, this smaller bird was it's final chance at survival. He looked up toward the smaller birds. They were landing back at the roof. "You can kill, you protect your own, and a kill was the single chance at a rescue." He smiled and knelt by the fallen falcon. "With your grace, my liege, I beg pardon for my actions." He plucked several large feathers from the bird, then, scooping out a hole with a mimed shovel, buried the bird with it's kill still in talons. "Rest in peace my lord." Acre smoothed out the ground to hide evidence of the burial site and slipped the feathers into the breast pocket of his coat. He looked into the sky and thought of his uncle.
Ten years back...
Seven year old Acre and his Uncle were out by a rocky cliff near the raging waters. It was long past midnight, and his Uncle was carrying a large bundle over one shoulder and was dragging Acre along with the free hand.
"You failed me boy. I told you to blow the deck win I was going to lose. You cost me near thirty pounds. You daft little bastard. No wonder your father ran off. In either case, I got me money back." His Uncle dropped the sack and unrolled a dead body. The cloth was stained with blood from the head wound. Acre pulled away, though the wet rain did it's best to conceal the tears, his crying could still be heard. "Ah shut your useless hole." His Uncle smacked him across the face, knocking him to the ground. "Me sister was useless in life and she leaves me something doubly so in death. Don't know why I lug ya 'round. Should toss ya on the street." He picked up the body and threw it onto the rocks below. "The rocks give reason 'nuff and the tide should wash off the ev'dence. Get up you worthless trash." He kicked the fallen boy. "T'ain't nothin you won't see again." Acre climbed to his feet and scowled at his Uncle. "Take that look off your face afore I wipe it off myself. You'll see killin, and you'll be a killer too. Won't amount to nothin else, just like me sis, you're her son a'right."
"I won't be worthless like you." Acre said then cringed as his Uncle turned back to him.
"Well, bout time ye spoke up tonight. But you're wrong again. In every soul there's a deep dark pit where nothing good exists. You fall in that pit and you're gone forever. Your mother fell in, and she died, which saved the world a lot o' trouble. Saved it more if you'd died with her. But the rosy sun shines on happy acres." He laughed at his little joke. "You're far enough over the pit, and every soul is dark enough to kill. Soon you'll fall into it, and I'll be it who pushed ya." His Uncle turned laughing, walking back toward the path. Acre stared at him, bringing his hand to his mouth. The air grew thick, the grass flattened and began to become crushed in the massive force. Rain hit the force and bounced off, or became caught in floating puddles, unable to travel closer to the ground. Then it all stopped. The pressure was gone and rain fell again. Acre looked at his knuckles, he had nearly chewed to the bone. Then he followed the path his Uncle had taken, back towards the road.
