Bodies Some Royals were lucky. All they got were strangely shaped pupils, or pointed ears, or fangs. But not me. Wherever I went, people always stared at me. Even other Royals. Black feathers covered my entire body, even my hair was soft downey feathers. A long, bone white beak protruded from my face, the end of it usually coloured with blood from my latest catch. My hands and feet were claws. But the most frightening feature was my red eyes. I usually wore dark glasses to cover them up. My glasses couldn't hold back the brightness from within the mall. The lights were bright, the decorations sparkling, and everything seemed to be lit by a cheery glow. I hated it. My first instinct was to tear these motherfuckers into submission, but I knew that if I did, I would be banned from the mall, and then how would I shop for presents? Urgh, Christmas time is such a mess. And since my Mom insisted I celebrate it, I am forced to sit through inane rituals that are mostly about the slaying of my kind. It wasn't even the fun kind of homicide. It's all "holy" and "good". Anyways, the mall was packed with human shoppers, all buying presents for their "loved" ones. I shuffled through the crowds, wincing whenever someone brushed against my feathers. Do they have any idea how much time it takes to groom those things each day?! But I managed to get to my destination fine, regardless of stupid humans. I hurriedly rushed into the bookstore, and set about trying to find a book that my Mom would like. Some sort of mystery book, one that she hadn't read yet. No, no, none of these books are right! I wanted one that would send a message. Something that told her that I actually spent time on this. A bold store worker bravely asked me if I would like any help. I explained that my mother loved murder mysteries, but I wasn't sure what to get her. The cashier had an idea. Why not put together a little mystery for her with the present at the end? I thought that that was a fantastic idea! A couple days later. I watched excitedly as my mother opened her gift. She read the card, muttering the words under her breath. She beamed at me happily. "I have to solve the mystery to find my present? What an inventive idea!" I blushed and told her where I got the idea from. We ran around the house together, her solving clues, and me watching her. Finally she got to the end. She opened the gift. "Oh, thank you sweetie! It's the best gift I've ever gotten." I blushed and mumbled 'you're welcome'. The gift was a fresh human heart, with inky black feathers covering it. It was still covered in sticky fresh blood. I had plucked out the heart myself, from a particularly annoying store patron who had gotten a bit uppity in my presence the day I went shopping. The feathers were my own, molted from my own body. For a while I worried that my Mom might get the wrong message with my gift and think that I was coming on to her, but she understood perfectly what it symbolized. My heart and body, given to you forever. In the end, everything worked out just fine, and I started to feel a bit more comfortable in my own body, knowing that my Mom loved me no matter what.