Parrot From Hell: My Buddy's Revenge

In my previous life, I died in a hospital bed. My body was riddled with tubes, and at the end, the steady rhythm of the heart monitor stretched out into one long, piercing tone.

The last sound I ever heard came from Pecky, the parrot.

Perched on the windowsill of my hospital room, it tilted its head at me and let out a soft chuckle—but it was a man's chuckle, which made it profoundly wrong and deeply unnerving to hear from a bird.

By then, I had already lost the ability to speak, but I recognized that voice without a doubt.

It belonged to my best friend, Ian Sawyer, the very man who had supposedly died of illness three years earlier.

As my soul drifted free from my body, I watched a nurse pull a white sheet over my face.

Outside the hospital room, Anne Brighton stood with red, swollen eyes, looking every bit the heartbroken widow.

She cried for a long while, then finally turned away.

I followed her to a villa on the outskirts of the city. She unlocked the front door, and inside, a man was already waiting.

It was Ian, as real as the day he'd supposedly died.

He wore a silk robe, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead, and there wasn't the slightest trace of illness on his face. His complexion was rosy, and he smiled with the vigor of an 18-year-old.

Anne walked over, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed his forehead.

"He's dead," she said.

"Finally." Ian broke into a satisfied grin.

"I spent the last three years inside that parrot's body," he said. "Every single day, I cursed him with those words until his life force slowly withered away. Now that he's dead, every bit of that life force belongs to me."

Anne cupped his face tenderly.

"You can finally have your human body back," she murmured.

Ian rose from the couch, stretched lazily, and drew in a deep breath, savoring the sensation.

"This body is finally mine again," he said. "After living as a bird for three years, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be human."

Anne smiled.

"When you were diagnosed with terminal cancer three years ago, I was terrified I'd lose you. Thank goodness that witch told us she could transfer your soul into a parrot and use someone else's lifespan to keep you alive.

"She said it only works if you find someone whose life thread is magically aligned with yours."

Ian leaned comfortably against her. "Your husband's life thread happened to be a perfect match for mine. His life was destined to keep me alive."

Anne kissed his hair. "He was born to die for you. That's the only reason he existed."

I stood rooted to the floor, watching my wife and my best friend in each other's arms as she said my life existed only so his could go on.

I didn't cry. What good would tears do me now?

I simply filed away every word, every glance, every single frame of that scene into my undying memory.

Then, I woke up and found myself three years in the past, on the very day Anne brought that parrot home.

"Joe? Joe, what's wrong?"

Anne's voice pulled me back to reality. She looked at me with concern, her hand resting gently on my shoulder. Her touch was warm, carrying the familiar scent of her usual perfume.

I lowered my gaze and noticed the slight swell of her belly. She was four months pregnant.

In my previous life, that child had never been born. Before my body completely gave out, the baby had already died in Anne's womb. The doctor had blamed it on malnutrition, saying the fetus simply couldn't survive.

Now, I knew the real story.

She had never wanted my baby, so she had ended the pregnancy herself.

And I had spent those final months crushed by guilt, convinced that my sickness had arrived at the worst possible time and that I had failed to protect them.

I lifted my eyes to look at Anne.

A gentle smile rested on her lips, but beneath it, I caught a glimmer of anticipation she couldn't quite mask—she was waiting for me to accept the parrot.

In my past life, I had accepted it without a second thought, doting on it like a treasured pet.

But this time, I thought better of it.

"Thank you, darling." I smiled and accepted the birdcage. "This parrot is beautiful."