The Caterpillarian

Chapter 2

Whatever it was, its face was shielded by a round, straw hat. The source of the sloshing water sound was made clear—a steel tub filled to the brim with murky, brown water was strapped to its back like a backpack. Its clothing was odd but familiar. Wasn't it the same attire that samurais wore? That was when I spotted a scabbard on its hip, and that's when my heart rate began to go haywire. It finally looked up, its face slowly revealed as the hat fell back. It had no eyes, its sockets an empty blackness. And that's because it was a skeleton. A walking skeleton in samurai attire with a sword.

I'd never moved so quickly in my life. Unfortunately, the only place to go was my bedroom.

"I must quench the thirst of the dehydrated!"

I'd barely heard what it had said, my ears thumping. I waited for Alison and Jasper to join me before slamming the door shut.

"Help me with this!" I shouted, lifting the bed at the side. We shifted it over to the door, hopefully stopping it from gaining access.

"What the flip is that thing?" Jasper asked, his eyes wide.

I couldn't speak, my throat too dry. My eyes combed my room again, looking for a weapon. I grabbed my television remote. Dumb in retrospect but I wasn't able to think straight.

The sloshing and rattling sounds were growing nearer and nearer. It was coming for us. In only a matter of seconds, its sword would easily pierce through the door and slice us into pieces.

My eyes left the door to look at the window. Climbing through was out of the question as it was too small. And who knows if we'd have been able to get through anyway, what with this unknown force keeping us from leaving the house. And what about the fall? We'd break our legs if we were lucky. And there was no one outside to whom I could get the attention. If there was, maybe they could rescue us. But there was no one. It was just us three and the skeleton.

And a moth.

Another had slipped through the window. Compared to the creature lurking outside the room, the moth may as well have been a beautiful butterfly.

Its next few actions were quite surreal. Well, in comparison to everything else that was going on. One of its many legs slipped behind its back. Like a cartoon character, it pulled something from nothing: a miniature piano and an equally as small stool. It sat down and began to play. The melody was soothing but what was the point?

The sloshing and rattling from behind the door had stopped.

"Yes, that is the sound of home. Before dehydration."

That muffled voice had come from outside the bedroom. The skeleton?

The familiar sounds picked up again but they were moving further and further away from the bedroom. Was it going back downstairs? Hopefully, it wouldn't stop there and would leave the house.

My heart chilled out a bit. I glanced down at the creature that had saved our lives. What do you even say to a piano-playing moth?

"Thanks."

"What the flip!" Jasper said as he often did. "What is this? What was that?"

I wish I could answer. I looked at the dead moth on the floor and the message. And then I walked behind the piano playing moth and wasn't surprised to see another message.

My attempt at reading it out loud was a failure. My throat was just too dry for words right now. I gulped down the tin of lemonade that had been sitting on my shelf and pulled a face. It was flat. But it did the trick and cleansed the dryness.