Little Moth Story

There was once a cute little moth...

He loved to go outside and explore the night, jumping from light to light...

His mother told him that the light was kind and loving...

That the light was his friend...

But no. The light was not friendly.

The light brought with it horrible beasts...

The eyes...

It was the eyes that crept out of the darkness.

The moth saw it... the eyes...

He spoke to them gently: "Please stop it. Stop looking at me. Stop looking at me, please"

But they kept looking. Watching. Observing.

"What is it you're looking at? My wings? My face?

The pressure kept growing, it overwhelmed the moth.

"Stop! Stop it please! STOP!"

The eyes hovered towards the little moth, towering over him like icons of eldritch fear.

The moth's little hear raced, his blood ran cold.

"STOP LOOKING AT ME!"

The moth curled into itself.

He used his little hands to grip his wings...

Pulling on them, he ripped them out of their sockets, blood seeping from down to his breast.

The knuckled wings drifted to the ground.

And then there was silence.