Assassin Crow Evolution

Jimmy barged into the Chief’s home expecting a fight. He dragged his considerably heavy hammer along with him as if it didn’t weigh anything at all.

Luckily for him, he didn’t have to fight anyone, because the house was empty. Not only that, but all the candles had been put out across the home as well, which he indefinitely failed to notice, be it because of his altered state, or because of his heightened eyesight.

Jimmy realized that it was empty, once he devoured two apples. He had found them piled up in a basket, and helped himself.

"Where is this fucker?" He said, through a mouthful.

After the sweet nectar of the apples were broken down by his stomach acid, he realized just how insane his recent plan was. He could’ve been killed in multiple ways, if the Chief had been home.

Hunger really did make him dumber. Or at least, a big, desperate crow with a fuzzy mind had no sense of consequences. He leaned onto the latter, as he slowly slipped back into his normal self.

Regardless, for the time being, he saw the absence of the Chief as a good opportunity. Food was stashed across the house in abundance.

From cabbages to the durable potatoes, he had plenty of vegetables to choose from. Though, he eventually ignored them entirely.

"I’m not pecking through a damn cabbage," He said.

Fish meat was stored in bulk here, which at first seemed stupid, because fish tended to rot easily, but once he got a closer look, he noticed that the meat had been dried with salt.

"Fish jerky," He pecked off a piece, "That’s a new one. A little bit salty, but... it feels like heavy duty stuff."

The fish jerky was stashed away in the basement. He had flown down there, following a wooden staircase, because he had seen plenty of crates stacked on top of one another. He figured that the Chief stored food down in the basement, as it was cooler, and it could help in preventing rot. He was right, of course, as there were a lot of fruits and vegetables here too, things that couldn’t exactly be thrown in salt, but he had hit the jackpot already.

"Tastes dry," Virena said, as she nibbled on a comically large, and long piece of jerky. "Why is it so tough? I have to heat up my sickle just to slice a piece."

"Salt does that," He said, though he didn’t care to elaborate.

The jerky mocked him, in a way. It was lightweight, as all its juices were drained out of it from the salt.

𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

For reference, he could manage to eat a pound of fresh fish easily, bone and all, without even feeling full, but a pound of fish jerky was a different story. It was shy of two thousand calories, four times more calorie-dense!

It was too much, even for him, but the weight of it tricked him, and so he ate a whole pound of it.

Only then did it start weighing him down. He felt as if he was hit by a truck, and naturally, he couldn’t manage to tear through another pound.

Jimmy had to sit down, and let the food boil in his stomach acid for a little bit.

Vorin circled around him, concerned, as if he was inspecting a pregnant cow, though he did not say a thing, because through trial and error, he had learned that his brother didn’t always appreciate his input.

He couldn’t see in the dark, so if the brothers were to get attacked, he’d have to stand guard, and fight back in all directions, and this was something that he didn’t feel capable of doing. Nevertheless, he clenched the tail of his dagger as he walked, ready to fight.

He had forgotten that Virena was also here, though she couldn’t see in the dark either. Unsurprisingly, there was no candle lit in the basement.

Jimmy, after ten minutes, dropped a bomb that would’ve suffocated at least ten Dung Beetles. He shat out the raw fish meal that he had eaten hours ago.

Only then was he able to regain his composure, and focus.

"Why isn’t that hairless fucker here?" He asked himself, and then burped, mumbling, "He couldn’t have possibly snuck away, not right under my nose... uh, beak."

Jimmy stood up, and explored the house. He checked the Chief’s bed, hoping that he had somehow missed him earlier on.

"Nope, he’s not in the bed," He said, "What was I supposed to do even if he was in his bed? Peck him awake, and have him do something suspicious? My fuck, I’m not myself when I’m hungry. I should invest in a backpack."

"You’re big, but I don’t think you can carry anything heavy on your back, brother," Vorin added, concerned, and floating around in the dark, following the voice of his brother.

Jimmy ignored him. He was a firm believer that people, or in this case, crows, who spoke to themselves, shouldn’t be interrupted. Under any other circumstances, it would be risky, as it was the equivalent of provoking a crack-head. A tetanus exclusive.

Instead of engaging with his brother, he continued to explore the Chief’s home.

Within the depths of the darkness, he checked every nook and cranny. He sought out any hidden room that the Chief could hide in, and he went as far as looking up the chimney, even if that didn’t make any sense.

"Beardless Santa Claus’ not up there either," He burped.

At last, he went back to the basement.

Down there, by some crates, he noticed that a square imprint of dirt, splinters of wood, and filth was painted into the carved, stone ground.

It was a tiny detail that told a deeper story. The Chief had moved the crates recently, after what could’ve been months of leaving the crates just sitting there, leaving the imprint behind. It was odd.

Jimmy saw no practical reason for someone to move the biggest crate in the basement. It was big enough to be used as storage for multiple types of merchandise, without ever moving it.

The fact that it was empty, and the fact that the rest of the crates across the basement were untouched, was even more suspicious.

Sure enough, he started pushing the big thing with his bare shoulder. He wasn’t strong enough to move it by himself, so he had Vorin join, finally giving him a task he could participate in.

After a tiresome, bone straining five minutes, they managed to move the crate by four feet.

"Yup, I was right," He sighed in relief, "That’s a hatch. I bet this bastard is hiding below it."