Daybreak casts a beam of sunlight through your window to your bed, rousing you from your sleep. You blink your eyes open and stretch out, grumbling about having left your window open the previous night, before you turn to check the time.
Only for you to find something very wrong.
The clock on your bedside table looks like it's several meters away from you. Heck, the edge of the bed itself seems like it would be a trek to reach! And your clothes stretch out like fields of cloth atop another expanse of fabric, being your bedsheets.
It seems you've shrunk to about two inches tall!
Unsure of how this happened, you pull yourself to your feet, trying to figure out how you'll get down safely, and then wondering what your next course of action will be. But one thing at a time. First, you need to-
Caw!
A noise from your open window startles you, and you look over, spotting a large, black-feathered bird on the power line nearby. It seems to be looking right at you, its head tilting as though regarding what it's seeing.
You shrug and shake your head. You've got some fly screen in the way, so there's nothing to worry about.
You make your way to the pillow, climbing onto it to get a better look at your surroundings, hoping you'll see an easy way to-
Flutter flutter… Caw!
Looking back at the window, you find the bird has perched itself on your windowsill. From here, you can see it's a decent-sized crow, and it's once again looking right at you.
You make a gesture at it to try and shoo it away, but it just ignores you, pressing its head against the metal fly screen to no effect.
Shrugging, you look around again, then climb back down your pillow. It shouldn't be too difficult to climb down to the floor. Where to go after that, you're not sure, but-
Caw! Caw!
Casting an angry look toward the crow that's now trying to nip your fly screen open, you give it a rude gesture, scoffing as you find its persistence ridiculous. It won't be able to cut through the metal screen with its beak or claws – You specifically got a screen that's bird-proof.
The crow seems to realize this, the fine mesh too small for its beak or talons to grip.
You shake your head and resume walking toward the foot of your bed, only to freeze as you hear a scraping noise from your window.
Looking back, your heart drops as you see the bird nosing its beak beneath the screen, lifting it up slowly but surely! It's only now that you realize you never bothered to lock the screen down.
And it seems the crow is delighting in this knowledge as it pushes it up further until it's able to climb beneath and into your room!
Caw!
In a sudden panic, you run to the top of your bed, trying not to think about the fluttering of wings in the room. But before you can make it any further, you stumble as a weight lands on the bed in front of you.
The onyx-black bird looks down at you with deep brown eyes, regarding you with a tilt of its head. Its taloned feet take a step closer to you, the creature ruffling its feathers while staring at you.
Then, it lunges its head down, opening its beak widely! You don't even have a second to react before you're brought headfirst into its mouth in one smooth motion!
Wet darkness surrounds you as you find yourself held within the crow's beak, your nude form pinched in place by the keratinous protrusion. Its long, thin tongue drags against you, sampling your flavors – And it seems the bird rather likes what it's tasting, as the muscle starts slurping all over everything it can reach!
Its grip tightens as it lifts you off the bed, tilting its head skyward. You let out a yelp as it tosses its head back, sliding you deeper into its mouth with the aid of gravity! It catches you at your midsection, and you squirm (to no effect) as you're held firmly in place, entirely at the hungry crow's mercy.
The tongue slurps all along your chest and belly, much to the animal's apparent enjoyment, as you receive a thorough coating of avian saliva to your tiny body. It's an odd thought, knowing the crow is enjoying your taste, but you still try to wiggle away.
Unfortunately for you, the only direction you end up moving is deeper into the crow's mouth as it tosses its head back again, landing your face squarely against the top of its throat with a squish. You can feel the wet muscles rippling, trying to pull on you, as the bird tastes your waist now.
It's at this point that you realize what the crow figured out a while ago – There's no escaping for you. It's got you right where it wants you, and it isn't planning to let its tasty breakfast go anywhere other than down to its belly.
And down, you go, as it tosses its head back once more with a firm Glllck! The gullet stretches around your head and shoulders as you're crammed inside, and it repeats this motion to slide you deeper and deeper still. Your attempts to prevent your ingestion are for naught as you disappear into the avian, feeling your legs being slurped up, before one final toss sends you all the way into its esophagus!
You descend only a bit further before emerging into a slightly more open space, but you can tell right away that it isn't a stomach. Instead, it seems you've been crammed into the crow's crop for right now!
The slick flesh squeezes against you, holding you and cradling you in a warm embrace. You're trapped upside-down, and your disorientation only grows as you suddenly feel weightless. Presumably, the bird is taking flight, no doubt squeezing back through the window and heading off once more.
You curse that you didn't lock the screen down before bed, and you further curse the crow for being intelligent enough to figure its way into your room.
The squeezes of the bird's crop around you seem to help you relax, despite the situation you're in, and you find yourself no longer panicking or really struggling outside of some halfhearted wiggles. The flesh is quite soft, and it feels remarkable against your naked form. You know it isn't going to last, but while it does, it's surprisingly rather nice.
But all good things do come to an end, and soon enough, the walls around you begin to push you forward. A second later, a sphincter at the bottom of the crop spreads open, and you slide inside, almost like being swallowed again. You're too tired to try and fight it, or perhaps you know it'd be futile anyway, so you just hold still as you're squished into the tunnel ahead of you.
Wet flesh squishes against your ears as you're pulled deeper still into the crow, and you can hear the quick heartbeat nearby as well as the air whooshing in and out of its lungs while it flies. Ahead of you, you hear a grumble, and you know it's the bird's stomach, eagerly anticipating your arrival.
And it won't have long to wait.
Your face presses against the tight ring of the bird's cardia, which holds taut for a second before squeezing open to allow you entry into the waiting chamber. You slide through, slipping into a small pool of fluids in the long chamber, and you can hear the faint squish as the esophageal sphincter seals shut once you're all the way inside.
Immediately, you breathe a sigh of relief – It seems that, unlike the crushing and grinding of a typical avian's gizzard, this is more akin to a mammalian stomach. It's not entirely reassuring, but it is a nice mercy afforded to you to know you won't be painfully pulverized in your final moments.
The fluids soak into you, making you tingle softly, while the soft folds of flesh hold you in a cozy embrace, almost as though lulling you back to sleep. You were a mostly cooperative meal for the crow, and it almost seems like the crow's body is thanking you for it by making it as easy for you as it can.
A slow yawn escapes you, and you nuzzle against the soft rugae of the bird's stomach, deciding to give in and let the chamber claim you. You can already feel the tingling turning into a numbness, a sure sign that you're beginning to melt away.
Gently, you caress the walls around you, and you hear an appreciative Caw! from the crow in response.
You close your eyes and let yourself drift off, chuckling softly. You always enjoyed feeding the birds in the park – And it seems you got to feed one last one today.
