From the files of Crow.

May 20—

Unique why do you shake, breathe deeply and not speak?
Did what to you? Where? What did they seek?

A little black ball of feathers turns red like the mist surrounding danger!

How dare he! How dare they!

Now you’re crying, and they’re lying, he’s lying to be precise. I will cut him; I will pierce him, I will chop him up and make meaty ice!

Fuck K!
Fuck K!
There’s no ‘K’ in Crow.
Fuck his title!
Fuck his life; K will breathe no more.

It makes me angry!
I will get revenge.
For you, Unique, vengeance will lead to a glorious end.


For three whole days, Crow flew, and he flew. He located the ‘K’ and extracted a bloody dew. Drop by drop he drank and her cursed. ‘Bad behaviour around Unique, blesses the cunt with a curse. Apologies K, I’m King Crow. I’ll start with your left eye and then tear your baby toes.’

He did as he spoke.
He drank, and he cackled.
He pecked, and he poked into holes he created.

He hopped onto the big toe and inscribed Crow deep within the ankle.

K pleaded and pleaded as his life slipped away. Unbalance Unique and Crow will ensure you pay.

Mr Smith

From the mind of Crow

Mr Smith

Mr Smith had a big house and a white picket fence.

Perched on a tree beside Mr Smiths bathroom window, Crow thought about ways to help Mr Smith.

The next day Mr Smith screamed in horror, at the discovery of a giant dead rat.

     It was both the large size and that its head was now hanging from the hot tap in the bath, that caused Mr Smith to faint.

Upon waking up, he found the head of the rat, glued onto his own head. Teeth embedded into his left eyebrow. Tail pushed into his bleeding right thigh.

Beyond the screams of pain, Crow can be heard singing his most beautiful song yet.