FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Rawk! Pretty bird! Pretty bird! Woohoo!” The cockatoo furled and folded his magnificent pink crest as he spoke. His owner cooed at him encouragingly and slipped him slices of freshly cut apple through the bars of his cage.

“If you keep that up, Caroline, that pretty bird is going to become a pretty dinner.” Her husband complained as he checked the security monitors.

“Oh shush, Tom.” Caroline chided. “They can't hear us in here.”

“Pretty bird! Pretty bird!” The cockatoo agreed with a flap of his unclipped wings before giving another raucous squawk.

“The deaf could hear that damn parrot! Shut him up, already!” He swung his chair around, taking his attention from the monitors to glare as his wife.

Caroline rolled her eyes and pursed her lips at the cockatoo, making several kissing noises before sliding him one more slice of apple. “Fine, I'll throw the blanket over him. But he's feeling restless. He used to be able to get out and play, but he's been cooped up in his little cage for over a week now.” Caroline pouted as she began to cover the cage with the heavy cover, waving with her fingertips before blocking the bird entirely from view.

“Pretty bird go night night!” The cockatoo said from under the heavy blanket.

“I warned you not to bring him here in the first place.” Tom said. “We're just as cooped up and there's no telling how long we'll be stuck here before the government can get everything back under control.”

“Pretty bird! Woohoo! Pretty bird go night night!” The cockatoo repeated happily.

“Pretty bird needs to shut up already before I-”

“Tom! Stop that!” Caroline snapped. “I told you I will not leave my precious boy behind. He's only talking because he still hears us. Poor baby is probably bored to tears.”

“Who's a pretty bird?” The cockatoo squawked and whistled. “Pretty bird uh oh!”

The sound of shattering glass made the couple freeze in place before Tom hurriedly turned his attention back to the monitors. “Dear god, somehow they've heard us!”

“Pretty bird go night night! Squawk!””

“I said, shut that damn thing up!” Tom yelled.

“Pretty bird! Pretty bird!” The cockatoo replied.

Caroline frantically threw back the blanket and offered another slice of apple. “Shhhh, it's time to hush, pretty bird.” She spoke softly, hoping the shakiness of her voice did not further excite the animal.

More breaking glass and heavy thumps filtered down from above, causing the cockatoo to bob up and down while flapping his wings. “Pretty bird! Who's a pretty bird? Woohoo!”

“Shut it up right now or I'll do it myself, for christ's sake!” Tom screamed, spittle beginning to coat his bottom lip. He stared with increasing horror at the monitors. “There's so damn many of them. That fucking bird of yours must be drawing every zombie in the state!”

“Stop it, Tom! You're just exciting him even more!” She replied before turning back to the noisy parrot. Her shushing noises did little to quiet him down. “Well, at least they can't get in.” She offered placatingly.

Suddenly, everything went black as the power cut out.

“Pretty bird go night night.” Cried the cockatoo.

“Pretty bird! Pretty bird!” The cockatoo screeched. Below him, a mass of humans surrounded the tree, all of them with hands reaching for him. Occasionally they would emit strange gurgling howls or moans. “Pretty bird! Woohoo! Who's a pretty bird. You are!”

One of the groaning shufflers below managed to somehow reach his branch and a fingertip landed on the cockatoo's toe. His sharp beak snipped at the offending digit, but the zombie only tightened his grip. Parched, cracked lips peeled back from rotting teeth as the undead ghoul sensed his prize was at hand.

“Who's a pretty bird.” The cockatoo called at the group below. “You are. You are.” When another warning nip did not have the desired effect, the cockatoo bit the entire fingertip off and grabbed it in one grasping foot.

The disappointed zombie seemed confused when its grip suddenly failed and it toppled over, to be trod upon by its equally hungry fellows.

“Hello pretty bird!” The cockatoo continued to screech down at his enchanted audience. He had no idea what any of his fancy words meant. They'd never meant anything to him except a way to receive treats and attention from his adoring owner.

The cockatoo tilted his head, looking down at his once loving owner in the crowd below him. One of her arms was missing, only black dangling cords of dead muscle covering the otherwise bare socket. Her face was covered in bite marks and her once beautiful silk gown was reduced to filthy tatters.

“Hello, pretty bird. Woohoo!” The cockatoo called down to her, hoping for a tasty treat. He tried nibbling on the tip of severed finger in his grasp, but it tasted terrible. He discarded it and unfurled his brilliant crest while flapping his wings.

Despite his best efforts, none of the greedy grabbers below bother to offer any tasty tidbits or fun toys. Even the cockatoo's owner fails to make any of the happy noises that indicate her pleasure in his antics.

“Pretty bird go night night.” Growing bored, the cockatoo let out a loud scream and jumped off the branch. Somewhere there was food and someone willing to give it to him. He just had to find them.