Barn Owl

I am every small mammal’s worst fear. I am a raptor of the night, watching all nocturnal creatures from a distance. My beauty is deceiving. Soft, white, fringed feathers allow silence while I hunt. I hear and see all, picking up the faintest of sounds from high and low. No rodent is able to escape my deadly black eyes once they are fixated.
The bottom of my legs house razor-like talons which I use to snatch my innocent victims from the ground. Upon my round dish-like face sits a notoriously sharp beak, known to shred their bodies to pieces. I show them no mercy.
When the hunt of the night is over I return to my resting place. An eerie spot, in a dark corner of a barn is where I balance on high beams out of sight. I fear nothing. I am the hunter not the hunted. My outstretched wings are my last action before I repose and drift into dream.
My dreams are filled with views of open air above and dense green forests below. I soar through ancient trees, landing in a field of rodents. They cower and scurry in my regal presence. I clasp one in my steely grip. Its deafening shrieks are turned into sudden silence. Its heart beat once rapid, now fades as my talon tightens around its warm body. Life ebbs slowly from it like a tide returning to sea. As I devour the rodent, its crimson nectar, temporarily satiates my never-ending thirst.
After my fill, I fly back to my favourite place. I awake the next night in the barn I call home, where I am king and sleep above all who bow below me in fear. I set off on another nights hunt. I fear nothing as I am the hunter not the hunted.

By B Cran