He cried silently, the wet trails marking his grimed face with streaks of cleanliness. He wanted to curl up, but that would stretch the broken bones on his back. His expression was empty as the fading light in his dull blue eyes. The golden feathers scattered about were all that was left of his once great wingspan.
What better way to keep a bird from flying?
The purple eyes watched the bird lie on the cot limply, the broken wings allowed to fall where they lay. He had wanted the bird for its beauty. It was still beautiful of course... But there was something missing... It didn't react as he entered its cage, a lovely one he had built specifically for his beautiful little eagle. He frowned, worry eating at him as he turned the eagle on its back.
A screech of agony revealed that the eagle was alive, but the half-dazed expression informed him that the eagle had been asleep. He lifted it up into his arms, making it screech again as its wings were jarred painfully. Fresh tears fell from its face as he carried it to another room. The eagle had been punished enough... He would be treated. Maybe he would be able to fly again if he behaved.
The eagle paced anxiously, despite the bandages covering the gunshot wound on his side, his slightly crooked wings fluttering in anxiety. He had tried to get away again. And the other was angry... He screeched in pain as a hand on each wing grabbed his primaries and violently ripped them out.
But that wasn't all...
He was forced onto his stomach and felt the other bind him with chains. Spread-eagle... How ironic. He flapped the wounded appendages desperately, trying to knock his captor away before he could do more damage. It was useless and only splattered droplets of blood throughout the room. As the fourth and final click sounded, he went limp. His wings folding to cover his back... and to keep from bring damaged too much. The purple eyed man would have none of that, grasping the strong, yet delicate, feathered appendages and forcing one to open.
He extended it as far as it would go and reached over. His hand returned with a hammer and thick carpenters nails. He put his weight on the wing, uncaring if it would snap the brittle bones and picked the spot out. He aligned the nail and swung the hammer once.
The scream of agony was music to his ears as he felt the eagle beneath him tense and struggle, making the damage worse. He moved to repeat the action on the other wing, the eagle fighting with all his strength. A futile action, but his little eagle was strong and stubborn. He stood up and moved to examine the image he had left.
He had not given his little Eagle any dressings, so the little one was as bare as any other wild creature. He looked at its pale skin, covered with so many scars, but still beautiful in a strange way. He loved seeing it stretched out like a lewd mockery of an angel in flight. He loved running his hands over the wings, broken and reset so many times now. It was amazing the Eagle could still fly with that kind of damage. He applied pressure and looked at his eagle's proud face. His beautiful blue eyes were screwed shut in pain while tears rolled down those oddly clean paths and the purple-eyed man felt the burn coiling below his belt. His eagle was so beautiful when it was being broken.
The eagle lay on his back, chained up of course, unresponsive as he was punished by his owner. His blank eyes flickered slightly as the metal pipe brushed against something inside of him, but didn't screech like he once would have. A noise issued from where his tongue clicked against the sides of his teeth, but his voice was taken by the sickening grin etched on his neck like a tattoo. Punishment for trying to escape.
The metal exited his body with a squelch as something else entered. It was much thicker and sat inside strangely. Then the owner turned it on. He screamed soundlessly as it vibrated within him, surprised into fighting back. He thrashed and squirmed, tearing his wings around the nails as he rubbed his wrists and ankles raw in an attempt to escape the unpleasant and painful sensation.
The purple-eyed man grinned. It seemed his pet could be taught, even if it took a lot longer than he had expected it to... But now... He left the new toy in his little eagle and examine the agonized confusion in its face. A light blush covered its cheeks and the bridge of its nose, and he found that that flush was just as wonderful as all the other new expression he was forcing out of his little eagle.
The eagle couldn't whimper without vocal cords, but he wanted to. His eyes squeezed shut as that horrible tasting thing was thrust into his mouth repeatedly, and he gagged in an attempt to breathe. He clawed at his masters hips in a helpless attempt to get some attention before he passed out again. He was punished by being thrown on his back and something much thicker and hotter than the pipe was shoved into him violently, twisting his face into agony and making tears clean his cheeks. It was not gentle or slow. And once his master was done, he was left on the floor. A broken bloody mess once more... He wanted his freedom more than any thing else...
Purple eyes stared down at the eagle. Clouded eyes stared through a point over his shoulder as the head lolled, unnaturally loose. The eagle had tried to fly again... Even though he knew that that flight would be his last... The purple-eyed man stroked his eagle's head, feeling the soft strands and stroking the one feather that stood straight up like a crest. But the Eagle didn't respond. He wouldn't respond ever again...
"Wake up..." the man said childishly, shaking his bird like it was only sleeping. Ignoring the cold that had seeped into his warm little bird. There was no way he could have died. This was a joke. His little eagle loved him now. Even though his little eagle has stopped smiling... and stopped fighting... and started becoming so listless... He was happy here. So why wasn't he waking up?
"I'm a very bad boy..." he whispered softly, moving to caress the soft cheeks of his eagle. He broke his eagle... and he couldn't fix it now... Never... "I'm sorry I broke you my little one... wake up and I'll be nicer okay? Come now... wake up."
With the cold his eagle would never decay... He may never be able to play with his eagle anymore, but now he would always be able to see him. He had even frozen his eagle in a beautiful pose.
The corpse stood, poised on the edge of flight, one foot flat, while the other was raised to the pad. His wings were unfurling and his head tilted up towards an unseen sun. His eyes were half-closed and a soft Mona Lisa smile graced his face. Even in death... there was nothing more beautiful than his eagle