A short story similar to Stephen King. Here’s what it wrote:
Don, a man with a dark aura and a penchant for the forbidden, steps into a pet shop like a predator stalking its prey. The shop owner, sensing trouble, regards him with a mixture of fear and resignation, knowing that confronting Don could lead to dangerous consequences.
As Don’s eyes lock onto a cage containing three parakeets, a sinister smile tugs at the corners of his lips. The shop owner, aware of Don’s intentions but too intimidated to intervene, watches helplessly as Don swiftly pockets the birds and makes his way towards the exit without paying.
The atmosphere in the shop grows heavy with tension as Don’s actions go unchallenged, a silent acknowledgment of the power dynamics at play. The shop owner, haunted by the fear of what Don might do next, can only hope that the dark forces he’s unleashed by stealing the parakeets won’t come back to haunt him.
Outside the shop, Don’s obsession takes a gruesome turn as he proceeds with his twisted ritual. With a manic gleam in his eyes, he plucks the feathers off the parakeets one by one, relishing in their helpless squirms. As he glues the feathers to his hands and arms, creating grotesque wings, the birds tremble in fear, their tiny bodies shaking with cold and terror.
Ignoring their distress, Don takes a pair of scissors and coldly severs their heads, blood spurting onto his face in a macabre mask. He savors the taste of their flesh, reveling in the sickening crunch as he chews. Meanwhile, his two cats, drawn by the scent of blood, toy with the lifeless heads of the parakeets, batting them around like gruesome toys.
With blood and feathers coating his hands and face, Don stumbles into his backyard, his mind lost in a delusional fantasy of flight and freedom. He flaps his makeshift wings wildly, unaware of the dark forces he’s awakened. Suddenly, a chilling presence fills the air as a large, demonic bird-like creature materializes from the shadows.
The creature, drawn by the scent of blood and death, swoops down on Don with terrifying speed, its razor-sharp talons tearing through flesh and bone as it rips off his head in a spray of blood. The cats, startled by the chaos, scatter into the night.
As Don’s lifeless body crumples to the ground, a surreal transformation begins. The three headless parakeets he consumed emerge from his decapitated neck, their tiny bodies pulsating with an otherworldly energy. With a collective screech, they lift Don’s corpse into the air, carrying it away into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of blood and feathers.