Killing Butterflies ( Inspired by Lewis Blisset)

Into the Gray

The horde was catching up to them, the hurricane of wings forcing his grip on his brother to loosen. Aylin was snatched away into the darkness. "Aylin, where are you ?" Nishant shouted, hands thrown up to protect his eyes from the flurry of dust stirred up by the storm. Just then, a rumble erupted from the earth, splitting the ground apart. The Butterflies. They were draining the ground. The world around him seemed such a dreary gray, sucked dry of its colors until the sky and the ground seemed the same shade, merging into one indistinguishable blob in the distance. He struggled futilely against the storm tearing him further and further away from his brother.

There was no answer to his question, no movements that he could see beyond the shadows . His heart sank, but it was no time to stop, no time to look back. The fissures spread quickly like cracks on broken glass. The match had burnt to his fingertips, the flame reduced to a single spark. Just then, a fresh hope revealed itself to him ; a stone hut, probably abandoned but strong and sturdy-looking.

The burning sensation worsened , the pain leaving him no choice but to drop the dying flame — his last hope of guiding Aylin back.

That's fine, he told himself. With one last step, he threw open the door and slammed it behind him.

...only to be faced with the stunned faces of about a dozen man and woman.

The Dancer had introduced herself as Vespera. Now, in the quiet that followed the chaos, Selene could see the intricate tattoos etched into her skin—two Butterflies in flight, their detailed swirls of purple shimmering faintly. Each delicate curve and shade hinted at Vespera's otherworldly nature, a connection to the very creatures they had just fled.

Selene struggled to keep pace as Vespera darted through the ruined streets with the grace of a cat, her movements fluid and precise despite the wound she'd suffered earlier. Selene had seen her bleeding—hadn't she?—yet now, she moved as though the injury had never existed.

The ground continued to crack beneath them, the fissures spreading like poisoned veins through the earth. But suddenly, as quickly as the swarm had descended, the dark shapes melted into the forest, vanishing among the rustling leaves. The eerie silence left in their wake was almost worse. They could return at any moment, and no one would be prepared.

"They were drawn by the chaos here." Selene hadn't even noticed Vespera had stopped until she spoke. Her gaze was distant, observing the shattered landscape with an unsettling calm.

"They know they don't have the numbers yet to take the country," Vespera continued. "But their nature compels them toward disruption. Once the bulk of the soldiers arrives, they'll leave. Pity."

Selene's stomach twisted. "You planned this? You caused enough chaos to attract them here? Do you know how much damage you've done? These people—you're not the one who will bear the consequences."

Vespera's lips twitched, a shadow crossing her face. "It's called equality. Now they know how it feels." Her voice was light, almost amused, but there was a warning in her eyes, sharp and unyielding. The kind of hatred that festered over years, not in a single day.

Selene could see the devastation all around them—people caught in the rebels' schemes, used and discarded like pawns in a cruel game. "Their lives aren't ours to take," she said, voice shaking but firm. "We can't pass judgment on them when all we see is the cover page of their story. You can't rip people apart based on that."

Vespera exhaled heavily, turning her gaze toward the horizon, where the last stragglers of the Butterflies hovered aimlessly in the distance. The clouds had begun to clear, and soon the sunlight would destroy whatever remnants of the swarm remained. The ground itself looked as if it had aged centuries in minutes, cracked and drained, unable to support even the memory of life. The trees, twisted and gnarled, seemed to sag under their own weight, their leaves gray and brittle. Flowers had wilted to pale, lifeless husks, stripped of their once-vibrant colors. Even a ladybird, caught in the storm, had turned a dull, ashen gray.

Everything the Butterflies touched decayed, their hunger for chaos insatiable.

Vespera's voice snapped Selene out of her reverie. "The streets will soon be crawling with soldiers. I assume you'd rather not be caught in another mess?" Her tone was sharp, brooking no argument. She didn't wait for an answer, turning on her heel with a fluid grace. "You don't have to agree with our methods. Just keep quiet and follow me, or you'll regret it."

Selene clenched her fists, her mind racing. The devastation, the manipulation—it all felt so wrong. But Vespera was right about one thing: she couldn't stay here.

Without another word, she followed.