The Holder of the Sparrow

I've always enjoyed the birds.

In the Northern United States, on a dark December night around eleven o'clock, walk down a residential street. The only lights you may see are those of the coming holiday, Christmas. They shine brightly and are gorgeously placed all over the homes that celebrate this wondrous holiday.

Their curiosity, knowledge, and strength inspire me.

Some of the lights may be colorful, others, plainly white, and some may stick with a theme, possible semi-automatic reindeer or inflatable Santa Clauses or wooden elves or freshly made snowmen. Choose a house of which to knock on. Hopefully, only a few people live there.

I've always envied the birds.

You must murder the inhabitants of the house at the given time you enter, save one. Do not harm the animals in the home. It matters not who is spared. Do nothing with the dead, but take the spared one outside into the cold. Embrace the feeling of warm blood mixed with the chilling breeze.

Their flight, and protectiveness, angers me.

Ask the survivor of your massacre, "Where are the birds?" He or she may be too shaken to answer. Kneel this person down in the snow. Walk away. Don't heed to the cries behind you. This person may also try to hurt you. Take the abuse; you deserve it.

The birds, I'm sure, can outlive us all.

Walk to the end of the street and call out, "Holder, show yourself!" The dark of the night will not even match the darkness you are now engulfed in. The cold is replaced with humid air. The noise you hear now is of the birds. Every single diverse type. Hopefully, you know quite a bit about them.

The birds are the only friends I have.

The lights will slowly turn on and you will see all in this massive room. You will see me in all my glory, a simple scarecrow. The fear I once struck in all birds alike, is now replaced with everlasting love for them. Approach me slowly; just don't frighten the birds.

On one of my arms hangs the only caged bird throughout the whole room: a sparrow. That is the Object you now seek. And believe me, many have succeeded in taking him from me. From the birds, though, that's another story. They'd hate for their comrade to leave their eternal home.

If you do succeed in leaving with my sparrow, stay gone from the street where you committed the murder(s). The police are looking for you.

Good luck, Seeker; you've just made new enemies: the birds.

The caged sparrow is Object 463 of 2538. The birds are angry and vow their revenge.