Chained

Private heard the sound of leaves rushing in a strong wind. He felt it on his face. The wind went violently under his feathers and made him shiver.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. Then he recognized the trees as those of the Central Park. They were bending and creaking in the force of the wind. Dark clouds scudded in shreds over the sky.

Private lay in the cold grass.

He felt dizzy and he wondered how he got here. He realized a pain in his flippers. The more he got aware of it the more it hurt. Private looked down on them and he felt like his heart stopped.

A metal rod was shot right through his wings. On both sides it was hold by chains, so that it wasn't possible to pull it out. One chain went over his body, the other one under it. Both were hit and anchored into a rock behind him.

Two more chains were positioned in the rock, leading to his feet where they were connected with shackles being closed tightly around his legs.

Private stared again at his flippers in shock. Blood was pouring them down. That was Skipper's work, he knew it, who else's? But why? Why?

The pain in his flippers increased. Whenever Private moved them a single bit, the metal stick send a merciless booming pain through his whole body. That effected the wounds he had from Skipper's sword to start hurting, too.

Private realized that his feathers of the side he was lying on, felt wet. He had first thought that it was just the grass being wet, but now he saw, that the grasses were blotched with a dark liquid. Private now realized that he lied on the side in which Skipper had drilled the blade. When he had dropped him here, he must had wallowed him around by chaining him, wiping his blood over the grass blades.

Every time, Private looked at his flippers, he got an horrible sting in his stomach. He couldn't believe what he saw. He didn't want believe what he saw. A desperate and hopeless feeling came up in him.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and hoped that when he opened them again, everything would be fine. But of course it wasn't.

Private felt the pain pulsing in his veins. Helpless, he turned his head so he could look behind him. The zoo's gates weren't far away – but nobody was in sight. Not even a pigeon.

When he moved, it was like Skipper was thrusting his sword in his body again.

Private screamed involuntarily.

"Help!" he cried into the wind, hoping that anybody would here him. "Please help!"