The knife was stuck between decomposed ribs of a late man. It's guard and handle were tangled up in a mess of torn fabric and tendons. It came loose, and the wind started to howl as it broke against the isles edge. I wrapped my hand around the dagger. The blade was obviously sharp, but was dark and dulled by the mud that clung to it like soot. It was a double sided dagger that missed a handle and was made of thick, short metal. Its guard was long and thin, with a ring on the flat side of the blade.
The wind suddenly tore loose, swatting away at the island and pushing me to its edge. Bones, even portions of bodies went flying as it raged, and I barely clung onto the mud. The fog turned into a stream of red mist that fought to push me off. I held on with both my hands and shoved the dagger into the ground. My left hand felt weak and cold, but I dug its nails into the soil as my body hung off the edge.
I heard screeching of birds on the pushing wind. A dark cloud appeared above me. The wet dust blew into my eyes but I could see the shapes and shadows of birds, clinging to the caverns underneath the island above me. Some embraced and hid into the crevices and stalactites, some were blown off them and descended down. Their eyes shone in the darkness. Their shapes blurred into black fluttering wings as they desperately tried to fly in the fraying wind.
In their fall, some began to close toward me, though I was at that point almost completely hanging off the island and only clinging on the dagger stuck to it, so they were not my biggest concern.
Their shadows have grown larger and larger as they galloped toward me in complete frenzy, and their desperate screams became more insatiable. Most of the corpses that laid on the island were blown off by the wind, and a few pattered me with mud and bones, some almost pushed me off with them as they departed. I closed my eyes and pushed my face into the mud, somehow trying to hide from the storm of bodies and wind.
When I opened my eyes again, the birds have gotten closer. They were gigantic, frayed crows. Their wings barely held onto any feathers, and they were the size of a building. Four shapes surrounded me. Two shadows fluttered and blurred as their wings swung and missed the island. The third descended onto the isle, but it's jaw hit the side of the muddy rock and shattered into feathers and bone, before being swept off the isle. The fourth had better height and cleared the edge, landing onto the rock feet first and falling onto its side. It slid across the mud, spraying it into the wind, and its eyes locked onto me. They were amber and black at the edges. They were translucent, and behind them I could see their veins stretching like roots of a tree.
Its wing covered the ground completely, and swung me away into the darkness below.
The wind whistled around me as I fell down to the dark red pale. Everything was covered in milky fog, and I could barely breathe. The only sensation I felt was the cold metal in my right hand. The wind hit me hard, blew the muddy, disgusting air out of my lungs, and pushed me toward the bird.
Its talons bit into my coat, and cut across the chest. We spun in free fall, and its filed down beak barely missed my head. Its feet let me go, I flew through the air and they caught me again. Its maw opened, and I swung at it, denting its leg with my dagger. I tried to push it off, and its nostrils flared as my left hand shoved against its foot. The beak quickly slammed against my forearm and tore into it. The talons pushed into my torso until my arm let go of its hand. I tried to scream but the air blew too hard. The birds beak creaked and tattered in the wind, and it stared again at me, before we hit the ground.