A Crow in a Choir of Doves

Kodiak stood awkwardly on the frosted over doorstep of the apartment before him, his leather jacket creaking in protest as he shifted from foot to foot to stay warm.

The carol sheet he’d been presented with felt foreign in his hands, and might as well have been written in an ancient demonic tongue, with the look of distain he seemed to be giving it.

"Come on, shithead, you promised," whispered Jackal, his longtime friend— if they could call each other that —elbowing him in the ribs paired with a pointed glare, stirring him out of his sulking demeanor. The rest of the choir, succubun and cherubun alike, looked at him expectantly, whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones. All he could do was sigh.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, he'd been screaming into a microphone at a small bar on the other side of the city, his band's signature sound of guitars and killer drum beats bringing down the metaphorical house to a crowd of punks and metalheads. Now here he was, about to sing the every holy "Silent Night" with a group of complete strangers on a strange new holiday.

Aside from the occasional set struck up at a local venue or a practice session at one of his band member’s flats, you would never catch Kodiak dead showing off his ability to sing. Well. Maybe besides the steaming retreat of a hot shower. Jackal, being the tough nut to crack as it were, was ready to challenge that today.

It was starting to become somewhat of a bad habit for him to get wound up in her plans after Dove entered her life, the envy bun suddenly having reason to cash in on an almost unending list of IOUs stacked up against him. He made a mental note to stop pestering her for drugs next time he ran low. Feeling is ass freezing off in the snow, it was becoming more and more clear that it just wasn’t worth the outcome each and every time.

The door to the building opened, revealing a group of bleary eyes cherubuns bundled up in warm sweaters for the winter months, their eyes widening with surprise and a hint of recognition at the sight before them.

"Ready everyone?" Dove chirped from nearby, leading the charge as they stepped forward in front of the choir with lyric sheet in hand. Nodding their head to a cherubun holding what looked to be a harp that stood on the edge of the group. "A one, two, three..."

Kodiak opened his mouth, his practiced rock growl transforming into something unexpectedly melodious. Months of vocal training in the back of a dingy garage kicked in, and to everyone's surprise— especially his own —his baritone voice carried the harmony with an endearing level of skill.

The cherubun's faces lit up, and Kodiak felt something unfamiliar stirring in his chest. It wasn't the usual thrill of commanding a mosh pit, but something warmer, gentler. The feeling made him physically cringe away from the spectacle, luckily stationed in the back due to his size, and away from the direct view of the audience.

His breath hitched in his throat as the choir continued, the harmonies of the other singers weaving together with his own voice in a way that made even his cold heart skip a beat, even with his apparent disgust.

Despite his best efforts to maintain his tough exterior, there was something undeniably magical about this moment, something that reminded him of simpler times, back in the care of Murmur. The realization made his sick to his stomach, thanking the demons themselves that the song came to an end only moments later.

"That was beautiful!" one of the buns exclaimed, stepping forward onto the snowy porch to drop some carats into their collection tin, eyes alight with glee, completely unaware of the mental turmoil plaguing one of the singers.

As the choir began to talk among themselves about the performance, Kodiak took the split second of disarray to split from the group for a moment, producing a lighter from his jacket to light up a cigarette, taking a long drag to steady his nerves. The nicotine helped calm the unwanted feelings stirring in his chest, though the thick taste of tobacco did little to mask the lingering, sickly sweetness of cherubmas carols on his tongue. He never was a fan of sweets.

After a while of standing on the outskirts, he noticed the group starting to form back together, signaling their departure. Exhaling a breath of smoke that dissipated into the foggy, cold air of the city, he flicked his spent cigarette butt into the snowy gutter of the street, dragging his feet as he made his way back over to join them.

As they walked to the next house, Jackal grinned smugly at him, clearly having taken note of his voice during the performance. "Damn, for someone that swears they’re just a metal singer, you have some pretty melodic pipes on you. Ever considered ditching your role in the band to start up on broadway, princess?"

Kodiak’s scowl worsened at the comment, his mouth twinging at the corners into something akin to a prideful sneer, eyes just about rolling into the back of his head. "Fuck off, antlers." he muttered as he began scanning the next song verse on his sheet, refusing to look up and give her the time of day. "Like I’d give anyone the chance to hear me doing any more of this, especially after this shit. I’m never gonna hear the end of it from you as it is, let alone after a stint on some prissy stage."

Jackal could only stifle a snort at the response.

Hells below was he fun to tease.