Oct 3, 2026 · 19 min · 8 segments
Day 3 of 31 Days of Halloween 2026 TT6003: TWO BIRDS // Recently Released from The Tiny Terrors Archives **Do you wish for divine prophecy?** I bet you don't. Today's Tiny Terror is a story about…
They were there ever since I could remember.
As a child, I would awaken to the soft chirping of birds filling my room.
I would rustle in my blanket until I was falling in and out of sleep to the two that sang to me, perched on the windowsill.
I'd lay in bed until their song was over and I was able to start my day.
But their song carried more than just a pretty tune.
They brought me predictions.
Its beautiful snow white feathers caught the light of the sun so gracefully.
Its bright blue eyes, deeper than any ocean, would observe me as I listened to its song.
The dove always sang first and within its song would be the prediction of something good that would happen in my life.
The birds didn't actually say anything, but when their song reached my eardrums, the predictions acted like memories.
I could recall things that happened that day, even though they hadn't happened yet.
The other bird was a raven.
Its ruffled feathers were darker than the spaces between the stars and seemed to soak up the sun.
It had beady red eyes that reminded me of the blood moon.
After the dove was done, the raven would sing.
When its song reached me, I would have a memory of something bad that was going to happen that day.
I would try to call my parents into the room as they were singing, but my parents never saw them, even if they were in the room at the same time.
So my parents started referring to them as imaginary friends.
The birds would continue to visit me like clockwork and tell their tales.
Their predictions always came to pass.
When I was younger, the predictions were simple and generally innocent, like when the dove sang that the school would be serving pizza for lunch and the raven retorted that I would get a paper cut in math class.
Sure enough, I would walk to school and at lunch I'd be given two slices of pizza.
They were there ever since I could remember.
As a child, I would awaken to the soft chirping of birds filling my room.
I would rustle in my blanket until I was falling in and out of sleep to the two that sang to me, perched on the windowsill.
I'd lay in bed until their song was over and I was able to start my day.
But their song carried more than just a pretty tune.
They brought me predictions.
Its beautiful snow white feathers caught the light of the sun so gracefully.
Its bright blue eyes, deeper than any ocean, would observe me as I listened to its song.
The dove always sang first and within its song would be the prediction of something good that would happen in my life.
The birds didn't actually say anything, but when their song reached my eardrums, the predictions acted like memories.
I could recall things that happened that day, even though they hadn't happened yet.
The other bird was a raven.
Its ruffled feathers were darker than the spaces between the stars and seemed to soak up the sun.
It had beady red eyes that reminded me of the blood moon.
After the dove was done, the raven would sing.
When its song reached me, I would have a memory of something bad that was going to happen that day.
I would try to call my parents into the room as they were singing, but my parents never saw them, even if they were in the room at the same time.
So my parents started referring to them as imaginary friends.
The birds would continue to visit me like clockwork and tell their tales.
Their predictions always came to pass.
When I was younger, the predictions were simple and generally innocent, like when the dove sang that the school would be serving pizza for lunch and the raven retorted that I would get a paper cut in math class.
Sure enough, I would walk to school and at lunch I'd be given two slices of pizza.
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