MicroHorror

My name is William Hazi and I’m sure these are the last words I will ever write. I am leaving this journal to anyone who finds it. I must tell what has happened here. I don’t know if there’s anyone left alive besides me. We thought they were harmless but we were wrong. We couldn’t have possibly known the peril. After all, who would expect a butterfly to be dangerous?

It has been a month since they swarmed into Wahoo, Nebraska but I remember it like it was yesterday. It’s strange, the little things you remember when you’re about to die. I was sitting in the local diner eating my breakfast, when I saw the first one. It landed on the bush next to the window. Everyone inside gasped and ran to the window. It was a Monarch butterfly, with a thirteen-inch body and a two-foot wingspan.

Soon another butterfly landed beside it. Then a shadow covered the sun as millions of them poured into our town, covering everything in sight. I felt a trickle of fear crawl up my spine. They disturbed me on a primeval level I couldn’t explain.

The first death happened within five minutes of their arrival. Mr. Beltran left Walgreen’s, headed for his car. He stepped gingerly between the resting butterflies. The moment of stillness was interrupted as the butterflies suddenly launched themselves into air. They latched onto him and began eating him. He screamed in terror as they tore him apart, one little bite at a time. They chewed his eyes from their sockets, greedily drinking the viscous fluid. Within fifteen minutes Mr. Beltran was completely stripped of his flesh.

I was numb with shock, barely hearing the dismayed screams of those occupying the diner. We watched in horror as a little girl became the next victim. She couldn’t have been more than five. She was chasing after a ball when they swarmed her, shredding her flesh to pieces. When they had finished, all that remained was a few wispy strands of hair upon her skull.

Chaos erupted inside the diner. People raced outside to their cars attempting to escape the inevitable. I waited a few moments before fear launched me into action. Luckily, my car was parked in front. I unlocked it using the keyless entry and waited for a distraction. While a young woman was being eaten I ran to my car, slamming the door shut on a butterfly. It was sheared in half, flopping and squirting green fluid onto my jeans. I couldn’t help but shudder in revulsion.

I drove as fast as I dared, smashing butterflies with my window. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people being consumed everywhere. People I had known my whole life soon ceased to exist. A man ran in circles, screaming and slapping at his face in attempt to remove the butterfly from inside his nose.

I reached my home shortly and gasped in horror. They were all over the roof. They seemed to be watching me, waiting for my next move. Suddenly the beating of their wings filled the air as they took flight after my neighbor. With my heart hammering in my chest, I ran into my home. Unfortunately, they realized I had escaped and butterflies soon began flinging themselves against the windows. I took refuge in my laundry room, the most secure room I could find.

Now, I am waiting for death to come. It has been a month and they are still searching for a way to acquire me. They have broken into my house and are fluttering outside the door. I have water, but my food source is depleted. The last thing I had to eat was some stored sugar. I only wish I had something to kill them, but they are too many. Please, if anyone finds this journal tell people what has happened to our small town.

Oh God, they are in the vents…