Semua Bab Parrot From Hell: My Buddy's Revenge: Bab 1 - Bab 9

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 ins

That evening, I put together a simple dinner of three dishes and a soup. Anne ate quietly and barely said a word.Halfway through the meal, the parrot in the living room suddenly cried out, "Go to hell."She put her fork down and looked at me. "Don't take it personally. It's just a bird.""I wasn't."She nodded and continued eating as if nothing had happened. After dinner, while I was clearing the table, Anne went into the living room. I could hear her talking to the parrot in a soft, gentle voice. "Come on, Pecky. Be good. Say something nice."The parrot refused to cooperate."Go on. Say something.""So ugly," the parrot answered.Anne laughed. "Oh, you're a crude one, aren't you?"I stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her tease the bird. In my previous life, she had been just the same. That parrot received more gentleness from her than I ever did. Back then, I had chalked it up to a love for animals. I had even respected her for it. But I knew better this time

During the few days Anne was away on her business trip, the training center sent me a progress video every day.On the first day, the parrot was placed inside a mirrored cage. Mirrors surrounded it on all sides, reflecting countless versions of itself. It flapped frantically, screeched without stopping, and repeatedly slammed its head against the walls. The trainer, Barron Davis, left a voice message. "The stress response is fairly intense, which is exactly what we'd expect. It means the correction program is taking effect."By the second day, it had stopped struggling. It curled into a corner and hid its head beneath its wings. Barron told me that starting that day, they would be looping positive reinforcement phrases, such as "I'm a good bird" and "I love you", three thousand times in total.On the third day, the video showed the trainer standing before the cage with a clicker. He pressed it, and the parrot slowly opened its beak. "Good day," the bird said. Another click,

The following afternoon, Anne came home with exactly the person I had been expecting. The woman wore a long black skirt and a silver pentagram pendant around her neck. Her whole appearance screamed "witch" more than anything else."Joe, this is Sabrina Piper," Anne said. "She practices folk magic. She was in the area, so I asked her to stop by."Sabrina looked at me for a couple of seconds, then turned her attention to the birdcage on the balcony. A faint shift crossed her face, but I caught it."Make yourself at home," I offered. "Can I get you anything?""No need to trouble yourself. I'm only staying for a moment."She settled onto the couch and chatted idly with Anne about the weather, the housing market, and whatever else came to mind.Still, I noticed her stealing glances at the parrot on the balcony.I followed her gaze to the parrot.The parrot stayed still, curled in the corner of its cage. But the moment Sabrina had stepped through the door, its feathers had puffed

A week later, I returned to the training center to pick up the parrot. When Barron carried out the cage, the bird stood calmly in the center of its perch, its feathers neat and well-groomed, its eyes tranquil. It no longer cowered in the corner or trembled in fear."The results are excellent," Barron said. He clicked the clicker, and the parrot recited "I'm a good bird", then "I love my owner", and then "I don't bite".With a different signal, it said, "I'm sorry." It repeated the words softly but clearly, without any trace of reluctance."It has mastered exactly what you requested," Barron explained. "Now, it says 'I'm sorry' voluntarily more than 20 times a day without any prompting."I studied the parrot, and it met my gaze with empty gray eyes—no anger and no bitterness, just the hollow stillness of a bird that had been fully conditioned."Thank you, Barron.""My pleasure," Barron said. "However, I should mention that if the positive reinforcement is discontinued entire