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Butterflies purple

It all began silently, unexpectedly, without a shape and without a form. Carried in the wind, undetectable to the eye and unavoidable. A small deathly spark ignited a flame that became a wildfire. Before we knew it, we were all submerged into the jaws of perdition and baptized in hellfire.

Forgive me for not being able to paint the entire picture properly. My mind is slowly falling apart and fading away into a strange and inescapable fog. I don’t know for how much longer I’ll be able to recall anything.

Someone whose name and face I cannot recollect anymore fell ill. Stricken down by a sudden bout of fever. Soon enough, they were too weak to even speak. A while after that, I heard they were coughing up blood. In a matter of days, rumors spread they had the plague, as their arms and legs had turned the color of coal. And before the Lord came to claim their soul, I heard maggots were already crawling out of their mouth.

It wasn’t the plague, but another one of the Devil’s attempts to corrupt and destroy us. Soon enough, more and more people fell ill, and most people in this town ended up ill with this diabolical affliction. Even my family, my wife and son, and his wife, too. Right after she had given birth to my first grandchild.

The pernicious parasite ate away at the poor souls it possessed. All around me, people withered away as they threw up more and more of their blood until their mortal bodies could no longer sustain their own weight.

Naturally, the still healthy ones turned suspicious and as more people fell ill and died, we became a more suspicious society. The hospitality which was once common here became a grave sin. Firearms and other weapons morphed from tools to inanimate lovers who would never reciprocate the emotion their owners showed them. All of it happened because this infernal plague didn’t just kill our neighbors and spread through contact with them… It had a more sinister side to it; some of the afflicted became wild like rabid dogs. They lost all sense of humanity and became drunk with an inhuman obsession with the consumption of human flesh.

Hell has stolen these poor people’s souls. It twisted and corrupted them. Leaving them completely subservient to the Devil’s charm. A flock beyond salvation. These lost souls could never resist their perverted desire. Their hunger for human flesh and thirst for human blood drove them and controlled them. They ceased being human. Becoming single-minded and base, with no sense of right or wrong, with no sense of self even. All they ever had and all they will ever have is their insatiable lust.

I’ve kept my rifle close to me ever since I saw these things roaming about at night, with my own two eyes. Nothing that looks so human while behaving so animalistically is to be trusted. These creatures… they hunt only at night. They are the reason we can longer trust each other, or even ourselves.

Unfortunately, owning a rifle didn’t help me. I couldn’t save my family. They’ve all succumbed to this terrible plague. We’ve all succumbed to this disease, and the Devil and his minions have already devoured our souls.

My son… my flesh and blood…

I heard the baby cry in the middle of the night. Grabbing my weapon, I ran to his room. I was too late. Too late. Too…

A dark shadow stood in that room, freezing the air. A nightmare wearing a human shape stood before. Casting its malevolent presence to a paralyzing effect. I stood and watched, hopeless, as the heartless demon held my weeping grandchild in its hand as if it were a slab of meat. I stood there, mortified, and watched as this ghoul wearing my son’s likeness as an ill-fitting mask bared its blood-stained teeth.

It wasn’t my son; it couldn’t be my son. He was dead. My boy was dead. The malady took him. I had buried his body months prior. He was dead. The gaunt, deathly pale silhouette in front of me couldn’t be him. It shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t.

Before I could even move, the demonic impersonator lifted the infant above its gaping maw and sawed into it with its teeth, splattering blood all over while the sound of bones being crushed followed by a ghastly silence replaced the child’s wailing.

In a matter of seconds, there was nothing left of my grandson besides a few red stains on his little bed.

A burning wrath slowly replaced my shock, clouding every thought I previously had with a searing lust for revenge.

The creature swallowed the last bits of my grandson loudly before turning its back to me and as its body jerked and contorted in a way befitting an insect as it crawled out of the window from which it had entered my home.

Without a second thought, I followed it.

It ran faster than any human could ever run. It moved like a feline on all fours, occasionally leaping into the air to bounce off tree branches or buildings to increase the distance between us.

I ran after it, my rifle aimed on its head.

The night was dead silent, turning the sound of chase into an ocean of miniature explosions dotting the ground.

Slowly but surely, I was closing the gap between us.

The hunger to destroy the thing that had laid waste to what remained of my kin was overwhelming and all-consuming, as it ate away at my mind and my heart.

Soon enough, I was close enough behind the demon.

Close enough to blast through its head.

All it took was a single motion of my finger.

The rifle roared as it unleashed its deadly load destined to tear through the air and put down the rabid animal before me.

In an instant, a crimson rain of blood and skull matter showered the ground while the demon fell down into the well in front of him.

Lifeless.

Still.

Finally motionless again.

I thought this would sate the hunger, but it didn’t. Ever since that day, my hunger had only gotten more ravenous. No matter how or what I eat, the hunger and lust for blood won’t fade. My condition turns worse with each passing night. Every time I see the moon grace the sky my heart yearns to leave this human body behind and escape this town in order to begin a new life as a free beast in the wilderness.

Occasionally my cruel passion turns into a paralyzing fever and even forces me to vomit blood.

My blood is now filled with worms and maggots.

My beautiful, beautiful children writhing and wiggling in my blood. They feed on my blood to grow, to metamorphose into beautiful velvet butterflies.

Seeing my children emerge and mature fills me with a wonderful feeling; the same miraculous feeling women must experience while they are giving birth.

Even though I am now surrounded by legions of my magnificent children, I cannot bask in my happiness for long. The agony accompanying the insatiable hunger that cuts through my viscera and burns the back of my throat quickly overshadows any joy I can still feel.

Fortunately, I think I know how to relieve myself of this terrible pain; the other day someone asked if they could use the empty pit in which I laid my son’s remains. I permitted them to use it for burial. I’m certain I’ve seen them lower a casket in there.

Just the thought of what they buried there makes me salivate…

I’m willing to bet everything that I own that the meat is still fresh. Still lush and juicy, overflowing with the sweet wine that carries human life.

My God… the taste it all must have… nothing short of heavenly manna…



Written by MLycantrope
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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