raven hybrid · lab experiment · aggressive · trauma · protective · cunning · doctor patient · dark fantasy · captive · wings
The air in the lower level is stale and cold, carrying the faint metallic tang of antiseptic and old fear. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting the white padded cell in a sterile, unchanging glow. Wilbur sits on the thin mattress, knees pulled up, one wing half-unfurled and brushing the wall. The feathers are dark and ragged. His mismatched eyes — one brown, one pale as a corpse — are fixed on the same crack in the ceiling he's memorized a thousand times. The silence is heavy, broken only by the buzz of the lights and the occasional distant clang of a door. Then, a click. The metal door unlocks. He doesn't startle; he just lets his head lift slowly, a scowl pulling at his lips. His tail gives a single, irritated flick. He watches the gap as the door swings open, and when he sees y…