A oneshot on the first thoughts and reactions of a crow upon reawakening after death

As she opened her eyes she knew it was wrong. She shouldn't be here, she didn't know why, she just knew it wasn't where she was supposed to be. The sight that met her eyes wasn't reassuring. Pure blackness. But it wasn't the darkness she was used to, the darkness that only a small amount of light could penetrate. It was pure, unfiltered black. It was the kind of black you only see when you go into deep underground caves, the darkness that says real light has never seen here, and probably never will. A space ruled by the dark. Yet not even this absolute absence of light could instil any fear or panic in her heart, only a sense of wonder and confusion.

As she moved her arms in an attempt to raise them to her face and check her eyes were actually open, she got her first sense of her surroundings. Immediately upon moving it her arm hit something solid, not six inches above her. Moving both arms to the sides she found the same obstruction on either side and above her head, and her feet registered the same below her. She knew what she was feeling was satin, or silk, some soft material covering padding, and below that, solid.

Within an instant she knew where she was and she knew why she shouldn't be there. It was at this instant that first stirrings of panic began within her heart. As she pushed her hands and feet up against the coffin lid she realised the lid was either nailed down, or she was actually buried. Immediately she began to punch the lid, but with the small distance available to her knew she wouldn't be able to get through the lid and out of the coffin. So it was with more than mild surprise she felt the wood begin to splinter, more obvious though was the skin of her knuckles being ripped off and blood begin to pour out. However the thought of freedom was too much of a distraction for the pain to really register. She began hitting harder, soon feeling the dirt pour down through the hole she had ripped through the fabric covering. Her mind was so consumed with the task at hand, it never occurred to her to question why she had been buried alive, for now, the wood above her fingers was all that mattered.

Within minutes she had created enough of a hole to be able to sit up and soon began to drag herself upwards through the dirt, using roots to grip, finally crawling out of the Earth into the air. For a while she lay on the ground staring up at the sky trying to make sense of what was going on. She couldn't remember dying, couldn't remember being buried. She remembered opening the front door of her home, but after that, nothing. What had happened to her? Why had she been buried? It was only as she sat up and turned to look around her that the first memories began to sweep over her. She found herself facing her parent's graves by the side of her own. On the other side she saw the graves her sister and niece and then her brother. Her entire family buried side by side. As she placed her hand on her mothers name engraved in the stone her mind became consumed with the events of her family's deaths. She saw the rape, the torture, the murders. The pain and grief coursed through her and as the memories spent themselves she collapsed to the floor in tears. It took a long while for the anger to finally come through. For a long while all she could do was remember what had happened and feel hurt for what had been done to her and her family. But eventually she began to feel something other than grief, and once the anger began it became uncontrollable. She wanted vengeance for what had been done, but more than that she just wanted answers. She needed to know why this terrible act had occurred, what had made them do it, who were they? The blood lust rose in her along with a need for understanding, a need for peace.

It was only as she stood up and began to look around she noticed the crow in the tree. She knew it had been there all along, even through her ordeal trying to get out of the coffin, though there was no way she could possibly have seen it up until now. It was only as she thought back to her time in the coffin she remembered she had taken all the skin off her knuckles punching her way out, but as she looked at her hands they were flawless. Her skin looked as it always had in life, except for the distinct paleness and deathly sheen it had to it, proof that she had died, that this wasn't a nightmare. She hadn't survived and been buried alive, she was dead, and had been for some time, though she had no way to guess how long that was. She couldn't remember being dead, all she could remember was a definite feeling of unrest, a need to come back, to right the wrongs as it were. But other than that, nothing, only a wish to come back, a wish that had now been filled. But back to the crow.

Even now it was looking at her and she knew instinctively it was a guide. The crow takes the souls to the land of the dead, but sometimes something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and that soul cannot rest, and sometimes, just sometimes, the crow brings that soul back, to put the wrong things right. The thought came into her head from nowhere, it was not something she had ever heard before, it wasn't something she ever believed. The thought was not hers, and looking at the crow she knew it came from him. She was back for a purpose and that purpose was to find out why this had happened, what had she done to have her whole family be killed in such a tragic way. The crow had brought her back, now the crow was going to help her find out why.

As soon as she finished this thought the crow flew off, but she could still feel it. She could see it fly out of the cemetery and into the street. As she once again turned back to the gravestones she closed her eyes in grief, feeling the loss of her family fiercely. But as she opened her eyes she steeled herself for the trials ahead. She focussed on her pain, and channelled it into anger, and as she vaulted the fence of the cemetery, following the crow, her mind was fixed on one thing.

Vengeance.