A Crow's Business

He's dead.

He's dead?

He's dead.

I check for a pulse.

His neck is cold and thick like rubber.

I check again.

His wrist is rigid and heavy.

Again.

I raise his hand and let it fall, it rolls off his stomach and makes a thud on the stone floor.

Yeah, he's dead.

He's dead.

I wipe my sticky palms on the waist of my satin green dress and stand over the body of Mr. Zabardast. He's mangled at my feet. His tongue is pushing through his shining teeth and his eyes are bulging from his skull. I nudge his arm with the edge of my shoe.

He doesn't move.

Illuminated by the dim orange light, Mr. Zabardast almost looks like a mannequin.

Acidic red wine and devilled eggs resurface in the back of my throat. I turn my head and take a sharp breath.

"He's dead." Agony caws over my shoulder.

"You've mentioned." I cough.

I lean on the icy granite counter and take in the cool breeze of an open window. Rain is splashing on gravel outside. The silk curtains reach to me and carry petrichor to my jaw.

Agony is sitting on the windowsill, large black eyes flicking between me and the body.

"He's dead," Agony shakes her dripping black feathers.

I pull my gaze back to the kitchen and scan the vacant room.

The pantry door creaks with the breeze. Muffled voices travel through the rustic vents and land in the pit of my stomach. I swallow the wine back down.

"Who did it?" I croak.

"He's dead." Agony hops from the windowsill to the dish-filled sink, "He's dead."

"I know, you dumb thing." I snap, "did you see who did it?"

"He's dead." Agony lifts her wings as if to shrug.

Something crashes upstairs and ripples through the walls. I stifle a scream. Agony caws and launches herself into the air.

"He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead."

I snatch the crow as she swoops past my head.

"Shut up," I hiss.

The kitchen settles until the only noise left is a bubbling soup pot and a faint groan in the pantry. My spine tingles and I freeze.

"He's deeeeaaaadddd!" Agony chimes.

I shush Agony and creep towards the pantry.

"Please just be the wind," I whisper to myself.

The walnut pantry door opens wider. Agony caws and squirms in panic as my grip tightens against my control. The groaning gets louder.

With a burst of adrenaline, I jump in front of the pantry and flick the light on.

"Briar!" A voice slurs from the floor.

I shriek.

"Huzzah." The voice cries.

I steady my shaking body on the door frame. "Silas?"

Slumped in a pathetic, sopping ball, Silas trembles on the floor.

"What—" I stammer, "what the Hell are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to, you know," Silas hiccups, "I just wanted to sneak into the party and borrow a couple drinks, or a few, that's all."

Silas sniffles and chokes on a sob.

"What happened?" I glance at the kitchen door and listen for footsteps.

"Well, I was lurkin' around and sneakin' some drinks. Then I smelled somethin' real nice, so I followed my nose and found this beautiful soup. So here I'm lookin' for something to spoons my soups, and next thing I know I'm on the floor and there's this dead guy lookin' at me."

Silas lets out a wail and holds his head in his hands.

"I can't believe I killed someone over a soup."

I glance at the body of Mr. Zabardast. "You killed him? How?"

"No idea."

Agony caws in my arms and snaps at my hand. I yelp as fire soars through the back of my palm and Agony escapes to the counter.

"Silas—are you sure you killed him?" I rub my hand.

"I must've. Maybe we were fightin' over soups or somethin'."

Before I can respond, rapid footsteps storm towards the kitchen.

"Don't make a sound," I hiss and slam the pantry door.

"Ow." Silas groans.

The kitchen door bursts open and I jolt.

"Briar, thank goodness!" Etel and Panni fall through the door and shriek in unison.

Piano music seeps into the kitchen and dances around the pots and pans hanging in the middle of the room. Panni brushes off her large, puffy dress. Etel straightens the massive pink ribbon on her neck.

Both women freeze and stare at me a moment, wide-eyed and out of breath.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," Etel pants, "please, you have to help us. We accidentally killed—"

Panni lets out a loud scream and points at the body on the floor. "Oh my God. Oh my god, Etel! He moved! He moved! He's haunting us and he moved!"

I turn to the body and back to Etel and Panni.

"He's dead. He's dead." Agony begins flying around and cawing again.

"No Agony, please keep your voice down." Etel shrieks and begins jumping in the air to catch the wild crow.

Panni throws herself at me and grips my arms tight enough to turn them red. Mascara cascades down her face faster than the rain pours outside.

"Oh, Briar, this is horrible! We can't go to jail, Briar. We're too sweet and delicate. Don't you know how ugly I'll look in a jumpsuit, Briar? Please help us." Panni tightens her grip and shakes me.

I try to urge Panni and Etel to calm down, but both are too hysterical to listen.

Etel sinks into the floor defeated as Agony continues to scream in the air. Panni grips me tighter and I grit my teeth.

Footsteps ensemble through the house and tense voices collect somewhere down the hall.

A small sob leaks through the pantry.

Panni wails about prison and nearly brings me tumbling down with her. I steady myself. Panni lays at my feet, incoherent and tugging at the hem of my dress.

"What's going on?" The Host comes rushing into the kitchen followed by Onyx and Mr. Lunger.

"My God," Mr. Lunger's face pales, "But how—"

Onyx drops a platter of cheese, letting it explode on the floor with a loud clang. The silver plate rolls over the dark stone and falls near the body of Mr. Zabardast.

"I didn't mean to," Onyx exclaims.

"It was an accident," Mr. Lunger overlaps Onyx's cries.

Panni and Etel chorus about jail and jumpsuits.

The pantry door thuds twice before finally smashing open and dropping Silas onto Panni. Panni shrieks and pushes Silas into a wall.

"Alright, it was me. I just wanted some soups and some cheeses. Maybe some drinks. Now you all know." Silas sobs.

The Host and I shift rapidly around the room, unsure where to direct our attention.

"He's dead." Agony repeats as she flies in circles over our heads.

Everyone continues stammering and explaining over each other. Panni uses my skirt to wipe her face and yelps when I push her away with my shoe.

"That's enough!" The Host shouts.

The frenzy drowns in the thrum of the rain and burning soup.

The Host steps over Silas and Panni and looms over the dead body. He raises a brow and crosses his arm, deep in thought. Everyone leans towards him.

"You couldn't have all killed him." I finally break the silence. "What happened?"

The frenzy returns.

"I swear I thought the oysters were supposed to look like that," Onyx says, "I wouldn't have served them if I had known. He had already eaten half the platter by the time Host stopped me."

"It wasn't you, Onyx." Etel finally stands and fixes her tousled hair. "Panni and I were trying to get him to agree to a date with one of us, but he was awfully rude. We both splashed our drinks on him. He slipped on a wire and got electrocuted!"

The Host squints at her.

"Was he what fell earlier?" The Host asks.

Panni shakes her head and interjects. "No, when he tripped a bookcase fell and crushed his body."

"And you're certain he died? Did you check his body?"

"Oh—touch a body? Of course not." Panni shivers, "But I am as certain as I am that a crooked tree would have a crooked shadow."

The corners of The Hosts lips begin to curve upwards. He clears his throat and recomposes himself. I open my mouth to speak but get overwhelmed by the other guests.

"That's impossible." Mr. Lunger booms. "We got into an... altercation. He hit his head on the fireplace in the living room and I dragged him outside. How the Hell did he end up in here?"

Everyone chimes back and forth. I stand in the centre of the chaos, too stunned to say a word.

The Host lets out a deep chuckle which turns into a maniacal laughter. Silence washes over the room once again.

I push my way towards The Host and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, "it's just—did any of you actually check the bodies?"

"What's gotten into you?" I ask.

"It's plastic!" The Host catches himself on the counter and continues laughing.

A slow clap erupts from behind us.

Mr. Zabardast emerges from the kitchen doorway with a sly grin plastered on his face. The Host gasps for breath and uses my arm to steady himself.

We all glance frantically between the body on the floor and Mr. Zabardast. I shake my head and sigh.

I should have known.

"Oh, you rotten bastard," Mr. Lunger shakes.

Mr. Zabardast chuckles. "Don't be completely mad at me, Lunger. This was The Host's idea."

The Host finally composes himself enough to stand on his own and wipe the tears from his cheeks. I whack his arm and he retracts, feigning a look of pain.

"I didn't think you would actually do it." The Host muses.

Agony rests on top of the fridge and caws. The other guests conduct a series of questions.

"Simple trick of the light and good acting, I'm afraid. You're all very easy to fool." Mr. Zabardast explains.

"And the mannequin?" I ask.

"A friend owed me a favour, I thought it would be funny to have a life-sized version of myself." Mr. Zabardast considers for a moment. "And I was right. This is very fun."

Everyone eventually settles and manages to find a couple laughs amongst themselves. The Host switches his attention between Silas and Agony.

"My turn to ask questions." The Host furrows his brow. "Silas, what are you doing in my house?"

Silas raises his arms and laughs. "Soups!"

Agony caws. "He's alive."

The Host groans and puts a hand on his forehead.

"And why is that thing in my kitchen?"

"Murder is a crows business," I pat The Hosts back. "You didn't expect her to miss out on all the fun, did you?"