The smell of burnt wood, no doubt from a nice, warm campfire, beckoned from a mile away. I got to the camp late, one heavy step at a time. One camp to another. Great.

In the near darkness, three campervans nestled in front of the primitive campsite. Unlike the campervans, I crept up to camp as an outsider who didn't quite fit in. I stalled next to the back tire of the closest camper, ready to collapse there. There were no street lights in sight to highlight my dirty appearance. The creepy, all-surrounding bristling of leaves got me up again.

I eyed the barely visible grey hand pump as I walked to it, knowing that operating it would tap my already drained energy. I slowly and painfully pumped water from the squeaky pump and grabbed mouthfuls of freezing water. I’m so hungry. It splashed at my shoes and I wiped the mud off the sides. The cold water chilled me to my core.

The chills sent me closer to the nearest fire as I could dare. Some blissfully unaware kids were eating marshmallows. I gulped down some air. A young kid no older than ten was awake past his bedtime and came out of one tent to join them. No one was watching the tent so I crawled in it for warmth.

I laid halfway in his black sleeping bag with my legs sticking out. I didn’t want to take off my shoes, readying myself to bolt at any time. In this position, I looked around for anything I could use. His clothes were too small but I took his flashlight and water bottle and put it in my bag. Knowing he would eventually come back, I crawled out with his sleeping bag on me, looking silly.

If the kid got cold, he could just wear multiple layers.

I walked further along and laid my new warmest acquisition under the bench furthest away from all the camps. I would rather risk being seen by campers for the reassuring cover of the bench. The closest thing to a roof over my head. I removed my shoes and slipped back into my cocoon to recover from exhaustion.

--

I slept well, dreaming that every time the staff pulsed, I bathed in warm, soft bubbles, and it eased my hunger pangs.

Some light streaked in between the boards of the table. I woke up to multiple bug bites on my face and the insane urge to scratch them all at the same time. I stretched in the early sun.

I was half-asleep until I looked up. Black crows covered every available treetop and branch. The other campers were slowly and quietly packing up their belongings, glancing up anxiously. The crows were abuzz with gossip. Their beady eyes and caws were unnerving.

A young mother packed hurriedly, carrying twin backpacks into the campervan. When she came out, she deliberately placed some leftover hot dog buns on the table. One at a time, she went into the tent and grabbed one of her toddlers, still sound asleep, and put each kid back into their getaway vehicle. She was busy disassembling the tent but I had waited long enough. I went straight for the buns. I would fight the crows for them if I had to.

One of the bigger crows came to the furthest edge of the table, turned its neck back and forth, scrutinizing me from all angles. When the campervans left and I choked down the last bit of bread, the crows grew quiet.

The crow stood on the edge of the table, shuffling its feet, ruffling feathers. But wait… there was something different about the feet. The sharp claws were starting to grow bulbous and long, like tubers and roots in the ground. They started to resemble human feet. The body also started to stretch but remained covered in feathers. The body stood taller with a human torso to match the human feet. Then, the human-sized crow’s head started to change. The beak appeared as a clear oxygen mask, shrinking until the last of it disappeared on the tip of his sharp nose.

I gazed in horrible fascination as the transformation of the crow was complete.

I had heard the rumors like everybody else. But that was that, just baseless rumors. Some of the people back at the prison talked about creatures that emerged, flying from the holes which appeared in the Malvaos fields. Human-like creatures that were very different from us.

Almost everybody considered this to be the ravings of some crazy lunatics. Every once in a while, though, I would see the looks of recognition in the eyes of the guards in reaction to those rumors. Maybe there was more to the rumors than just some ramblings of demented old farmers.

He stood upright, high in stature above me, commanding attention. His chin was up and his eyes stared down at me. I shifted uncomfortably. Some crows flew from further branches to the trees nearby. I fanned myself nervously while looking around for an escape.

The crows crowded closer again. A group of crows was called a murder. An apt choice of words as I felt murderous intent. They were just waiting on the order to kill.