Christine Falcone
Christine Falcone (she/her) is an aspiring writer working on her first fantasy novel Bathed in Blood and Light, which she hopes to publish in the near future. However, her aspirations don't end there. As a fan of multimedia storytelling, Christine also has plans to create an original webcomic. In her spare time, she enjoys watching anime and practicing embroidery.
“How was something as powerful as you captured? Did they bait you with gifts? Earn your trust through kindness and pretty words?”
Harpy's Song
Harpy's Song
Christine Falcone
Two eggs simmer in the pan below her, their edges wiggling and popping from the hot oil. The yolks stare up at her like two odd yellow eyes and she is inexplicably unnerved. Robin waits another minute and then grips the pan handle, flicking her wrist out and up to flip the eggs. She is relieved the yolks are covered and unbroken—Julian always yells at her if she tears the yolks. She only leaves the eggs to cook for a bit longer before she kills the heat and slides them onto a pale green plate. She is about to start on her own eggs, scrambled, when she hears footsteps on the stairs.
She glances over her shoulder and sees Julian enter the kitchen. He’s fresh and fully dressed for the day, brown hair precisely styled. He glances at the eggs and then at her. She holds her breath, unsure if this will be a good or bad morning. Julian walks over and wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck.
“Morning, babe,” he says against her skin.
“Morning. Sleep well?” she asks.
“Better than yesterday.”
Julian goes to eat his breakfast but pauses after taking a bite. His eyes narrow and flick over her appearance, as if just noticing something.
“Why aren’t you dressed yet? You know we need to leave soon.”
Robin looks down at her faded purple shirt and grey flannel pajama pants. Another landmine she foolishly stepped on.
“I came down as soon as I woke up. I wanted to make breakfast first,” she explains.
“Then you should have gotten up earlier. You know the lineup is going to be long if we get there after opening,” Julian says.
“I’ll dress quickly, don’t worry.” Robin sees Julian’s jaw clench and knows she’ll have to forego the scrambled eggs. She reaches for her mug nervously.
“Go up now. You take forever to do your makeup.”
Robin tries not to hide behind her mug. She gathers her nerve.
“After I finish my coffee.”
“Now, Robin.”
Robin places her half-empty mug on the counter and goes upstairs obediently.
***
Robin stands in front of their floor-length mirror, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sleeves. Stuck to the frame of the mirror with blue tack are pictures of her and Julian. He’s crowding her in most of them, a possessive hand always placed on her shoulder or waist. She tries not to look at her expressions. She doesn’t like to see her discontent and anxiety displayed before her like a mocking reminder of her weakness.
She’d examined the photos once before, on a desperate, lonely night when Julian was out drinking with his friends. She’d focused on each one, trying to pinpoint the moment where it had all gone wrong. What had she said or done to enable such a drastic shift in their relationship? What signal had she unconsciously given Julian that let him know he could control her—hit her—without consequence? At what point did she stop fighting for herself? Somewhere along the line, without her noticing, Julian had managed to cage her.
“Hurry up, Robin!” Julian yells from the depths of the house.
Robin flinches and rushes to obey, hating herself more with every step she takes towards the man she once trusted. She finds Julian waiting by the front door, shoes on and expression impatient. She stops a few feet away as he takes in her outfit. He’s sent her back upstairs to change a handful of times in the past, but today he nods in approval.
“You’re driving. I’ll meet you in the car.”
Julian leaves and Robin scrambles to throw on her shoes. The last thing she wants is to keep him waiting. The car keys rest in a glass bowl on a small table in the narrow hall. She reaches for them, but her fingers freeze before they touch the faded metal. The memory intrudes so quickly that Robin has no time to brace herself.
She was standing in the parking lot of Julian’s favourite bar, struggling to support him as he leaned on her. He was drunk and groping her, trying to put his mouth places he shouldn’t while they were in public. Robin’s attention was split between trying to push him away and patting his pockets.
“Julian, where are the keys?” she asked, breathless from the strain.
“To the left, baby,” Julian said in a pathetic attempt to get her to touch his crotch.
“Come on. Get off so I can—ugh, stop,” she hissed as he bit her lip. His breath reeked of alcohol, and Robin had to swallow her nausea.
“Why are you being so bitchy?” he snapped. “I can’t fucking kiss you now?”
“I’m not going to do shit with you in the middle of a parking lot,” Robin said, voice rising.
“Fine,” Julian growled. He pushed her away hard enough that she nearly lost her balance on her heels. Julian yanked the keys out of his back pocket and unlocked the car. He ripped the back door open, then turned to whip the keys at her. Robin was too slow raising her hands, and the keys clipped her right on her cheekbone. She cried out, but Julian was already in the backseat, car door shut tightly.
Robin kicked her heels off, legs shaking. She didn’t know if the warm liquid on her face was blood or tears until she gingerly touched her cheek. Her fingers were spotted with red. Mutely, she picked up the keys and got in the car. Julian was asleep across the backseat after five minutes, leaving Robin’s reflection in the rear-view mirror the only witness to her breakdown.
She almost left him that night. But the next morning, Julian apologized and promised he wouldn’t drink so much anymore. He held her gently, kissed her bruised cheek and applied numbing cream to soothe the pain. He was attentive and kind, like he’d been when they first met. Instead of taking the keys and gunning it out of town, she put them back in the glass bowl in the hall and let Julian comfort her.
Now, she picks up the keys and gets behind the wheel again. This time Julian is beside her, giving her directions to their surprise date spot. It turns out Julian is taking her to the zoo. She tries to be optimistic. One of their first dates had been the zoo because she and Julian both liked animals. She wonders if he’s trying to be sentimental by bringing her here again. She never told him she hated the first date because seeing all of the confined animals made her sad.
They park and get out of the car. Julian reaches for her hand, and she lets him take it. They walk through the gathering crowd to the entrance of the zoo where a massive sign with bright yellow letters reads Step Into A World of Wonder With Our New Mystical Creatures Exhibit!
Mystical creatures are wild, fantastical beings that in no way belong in an exhibit for human entertainment. Though this particular zoo is known for its species conservation efforts, multiple zoology studies have shown that mystical creatures do not survive in captivity despite attempts to aid them. But people love a spectacle so the exhibits, though rare, still pop up every few years.
Julian buys passes from a saleswoman wearing a unicorn hat. She smiles cheerfully at them as she hands them their wristbands.
“Enjoy the Mystical Creatures Exhibit! Don't forget to enter the draw to win a pygmy mermaid!” she says.
Julian leads Robin into the exhibit excitedly. It’s crowded; children and adults roam between cages and glass enclosures to marvel at the species most people could only ever dream of seeing up close. Between the moving bodies, Robin catches sight of gleaming scales and clawed hands and plumes of bright feathers. Julian brings her to the closest display, and they manage to squeeze through the crowd to look at the animal kept in a large golden cage. At first, Robin thinks it’s just a normal cat, but then it turns its head in her direction and she gasps at the third eye on its forehead.
“Whoa, that’s freaky!” Julian says. “Kind of boring compared to some of these other creatures, though.”
Robin disagrees.
“Come on, let’s keep looking around.” He grabs her wrist and pulls her in another direction. Julian doesn’t notice her wince at his too-tight grip.
Robin and Julian spend hours exploring the exhibit. They go into an aquarium room and watch mermaids chase fish and tear into their white flesh with razor-sharp teeth. They walk through an artificial forest enclosure where pixies dart between tree leaves and avoid the hands that grab at their tiny bodies. Julian spends nearly twenty minutes watching a video about dragon egg incubation. Then they manage to sit in on a unicorn show. Robin watches as zookeepers make the gorgeous, gentle creature run in circles and pop balloons with its horn. She pretends not to recognize the blank gaze in its eyes while it mindlessly performs tricks for the audience’s satisfaction and amusement.
After the performance, Julian asks her how she liked it.
“I can’t believe we just saw an actual unicorn,” she says neutrally.
“It was kind of a letdown. Pretty much just a regular horse with a horn. Nothing special.”
Robin is baffled at how Julian can come face to face with a creature from myth and conclude that it is ordinary. Hours ago, he was entranced by the exhibit, yet now he seems uninterested. It appears the magic has worn off.
Julian goes off to the bathroom shortly after, leaving Robin to wander the nearby rooms alone. A trio of children run past her.
“Did you see its wings? They were huge! And its talons were at least as long as my finger!”
“I know! Harpies are the coolest!”
Robin’s eyes widen. There’s a harpy in the exhibit? Interested, and guilty for being interested, Robin goes in the direction the children came from. There is a set of doors with the words Harpy’s Nest above them. Robin looks around for Julian, but he is nowhere in sight. She makes her way inside.
The room is large and circular, and empty of visitors. The ceiling is a glass dome, and the sunlight shines down on the lone display in the room: a large, twenty-foot-high enclosure filled with thick tree branches and climbing ivy. Sitting on one of the branches is the harpy. She is dressed in rags that barely cover her body; her hair is long and matted. The harpy's calves and feet are that of a bird, and her four toes end in deadly talons. From her bent back, the harpy's wings grow full and powerful. Her face is beautiful and sharp, her golden eyes wide and unblinking.
She is terrifying and magnificent.
Robin steps closer, as if drawn by the creature’s gaze. The harpy doesn't react to her approach. Robin places a shaking hand to the enclosure's glass. When nothing happens, Robin moves away to read the harpy facts on a nearby wooden stand.
“It says here you're as fast as lightning while in flight. ‘Harpies are ruthless hunters and notoriously furious at the world.’” Robin laughs harshly. “I can see that last part.”
The harpy's eyes narrow slightly.
“How did you end up here?” Robin asks, suddenly serious. “How was something as powerful as you captured? Did they bait you with gifts? Earn your trust through kindness and pretty words?”
Robin catches herself. Why is she suddenly interrogating a harpy? Why is she so worked up and on the brink of anger? Why does it matter so much that this gloriously wild and untameable creature before her is trapped and unhappy—and not a single person around seems to give a damn and see that she’s hurting?
She bangs a fist on the glass.
“Why weren't you smart enough to resist? Why couldn't you see through their lies before they trapped you?” she whispers.
The sleeve of Robin's sweater slips down her arm to reveal her wrist. There are bruises in the shape of fingers encircling it, purple and vivid against her skin.
The harpy’s golden eyes flick there, yet the creature shows no reaction still.
For a moment, Robin fears she might cry, but she manages to compose herself.
Stepping away, she chides herself. “What the hell am I doing?”
There is a bang as the doors open behind her. She whirls around to find Julian stomping towards her. She backs away until she hits the enclosure's glass. Unseen to Robin, the harpy's wings twitch.
“Where the fuck were you? I told you to wait for me!” Julian snaps.
“Julian, I—”
“You never listen. Do you like ignoring me?”
“It's not like that, I just got distracted!”
“So I'm not important enough to keep your attention? You're not allowed to wander off. I thought we fixed this problem a long time ago.”
“I'm sorry. I won't leave again. I promise. Please don't get mad,” Robin begs. She is both relieved and terrified by the lack of people around. She hates when Julian makes a scene, but without prying eyes, he is prone to more extreme actions against her.
Robin cowers under Julian's glare.
“Too late.”
Julian grabs Robin's wrist and attempts to drag her away. Robin violently resists him. Her wrist hurts and she’s afraid of what will happen once they leave the exhibit. She doesn’t want to be hurt anymore. She’s tired of being afraid and paranoid and abused. She hates Julian and she hates herself for allowing things to get this far. Why hadn’t she been stronger?
Banging on the glass startles them both and they turn to see the harpy flapping her wings furiously and slamming her body against the glass. The tiniest of fractures appears.
“What the hell is wrong with that thing?” Julian asks.
Robin takes advantage of Julian's distraction, and she manages to escape his grasp. Her eyes are wild. Her heart is pounding in her chest. The harpy continues to slam against the glass, her beautiful face contorted into a picture of bloodthirsty rage that echoes Robin’s own boiling emotions.
Sensing the danger they're in, Julian reaches for Robin again.
His hand is a chain, and Robin knows that if Julian manages to catch her, she’ll never be free of him. She turns away and runs to the wooden stand that displays the harpy information.
She doesn't want to be caged any more. She’s tired of being afraid of the next strike, the next set of keys to the face.
Robin’s nails tear into the wood as she lifts the stand and swings. She clips Julian in the ribs, but her aim is off. The brief hit does nothing but infuriate him more. He’s grabbing her in the next second, trying to pry the stand out of her hands. She grips it like a lifeline.
This is her only chance, her only goddamn chance to get away. She can’t, won’t allow it anymore.
She kicks Julian’s knee viciously and ignores his pained cry. Robin spins, arms heaving, and smashes the stand into the glass. She can see her reflection there, juxtaposed with the harpy’s face. They are both wild and screaming. The glass fractures but holds, so she swings again. And again and again—
Suddenly, she’s yanked backwards by her collar. Robin’s head cracks against the tile as she falls to the floor, her vision spotting with black.
“Have you gone fucking crazy?” Julian screams. Maybe she has. Maybe this is their inevitable conclusion. Julian, standing over her, his face red with rage like a devil out for blood. And her on the ground, half mad from her own desperation and hate, looking more harpy than woman. She tries to get away one last time, but she can’t move.
And then the world shatters. Glass explodes and an alarm goes off, the piercing wail drowned out by the harpy’s screech, shrill and chilling and promising retribution.
The harpy swoops forward and grabs Julian with both her clawed feet, whipping him halfway across the room. His eyes are wide with shock as he hits the wall, eight punctures dripping blood from his abdomen. The harpy stands above Robin with her wings fully spread. Her talons are bloody with triumph.
Then the harpy looks down at her and extends a deadly hand. Robin doesn’t hesitate. Already she hears footsteps rushing from down the hall. She takes the harpy’s hand and is pulled close. Her vision is full of massive feathers as they take off. The beat of the harpy’s wings is powerful enough to blow Robin’s hair back. The harpy smashes through the glass ceiling as security runs into the room. The world is mayhem, but Robin is blissfully out of reach. She catches one last look at Julian as someone rushes to help him. From her place in the sky, he looks so incredibly small.
Robin doesn’t know what will happen next or what she’ll do when the harpy finally sets her down. Right now, she couldn’t care less. She spreads her arms, lets the wind tear at her clothes and hair. She greets her freedom with a scream that is soon echoed by the harpy’s song.