Every morning, I would see the same crow perched on the same bench outside my window. It was easy to recognize it - it had a distinctive scratch on its wing. I would silently watch as it looked around before eventually flying off into the distance. There was something eerie about that crow, something almost supernatural.

One night, as I lay in bed, I heard faint giggles coming from outside my window. Curiosity got the best of me, and I peaked outside to see a man wearing a green and black shirt staring back at me. His gaze felt like it was piercing into my soul, sending shivers down my spine. Before I could react, he let out a loud, ear-piercing screech that sounded oddly familiar - it was the same screech that the crow made, only this time it sounded demonic.

Terrified, I ran to my bed and hid under the covers until dawn broke. When I finally mustered the courage to go downstairs, I was met with a horrifying sight. The entire room was covered in blood, and crows were perched on every surface, their eyes filled with malice.