Killing Butterflies ( Inspired by Lewis Blisset)

Whispers in the Dark

"Brother ?" Aylin's words were swallowed completely by the storm. His heart thudded in his chest as the Butterflies closeted around him, a living , breathing wall, teeming with movements.

Little one...we recognize you...

They spoke to him, the words humming in his mind long after they stopped speaking. The words, "Get away!", probably already lost their meaning. He had to lie, or trick them somehow.

The Butterflies were trying to take over his mind, trying make him a mindless puppet. Aylin could feel them throwing themselves against the barriers of his mind. Some were getting braver, snapping their fangs at him. Aylin hissed in pain when a stinging pain spread through his right wrist, rendering it useless. Their potent acid, eating into his skin. Aylin clutched his arm tightly, the waves of pain hitting him. The Butterfly swarm converged around him, as if mocking him, but after a moment he realized that they were concerned.

Not for you, for the Butterfly residing in you, they whispered. You could give in, and survive. 

Aylin's breath came in ragged gasps, the oppressive heat of the swarm closing in around him. His mind felt foggy, their words coiling through his thoughts like a living thing. The Butterflies didn't speak as humans did—their voices were less sound and more sensation, a thousand whispers threading through his consciousness, tugging at his willpower. Little one... we recognize you...

The words burrowed into him, sticking like burrs in his mind. He wanted to scream, to shout for his brother, but the sound would only dissolve into the storm, swallowed by the buzzing wings and the oppressive wall of their bodies. He tried to push them out, tried to force his thoughts to remain his own, but they were persistent, hammering against his defenses. Each thought he had, each sense of self, felt like it was being dissected, pulled apart and examined.

A voice hissed, clearer than the others. You don't belong here... but something inside you does. The pain in his wrist flared, sharp and searing, and he looked down to see the skin bubbling where the acid had struck him. He cradled his arm to his chest, biting back a cry of agony. The flesh beneath was raw, already eaten away in parts, and the damage spread with each passing second.

Survive, the voice insisted. Give in, and the pain will stop.

Aylin's stomach churned. He could feel the desperation of the swarm—they weren't worried about him, they didn't care whether he lived or died. They were concerned for something else, something they sensed within him. The Butterfly... but how? He didn't understand what they meant, didn't understand why they were so focused on him. He had never been like them, never wanted to be.

"Get away!" Aylin shouted, his voice cracking under the strain. But the words felt hollow, meaningless against the immense presence of the swarm. His body trembled, the poison coursing through his veins making his vision blur. He couldn't fight them off forever, not like this.

The whispers returned, more insistent now. Let us in... You'll survive. The pain will stop. We protect our own...

A shudder wracked his body. His thoughts were becoming muddled, each passing second more clouded. He could feel them pressing harder, trying to worm their way into his mind. Some were already slipping through the cracks, gnawing at his memories, feeding on his fear. He could sense them testing him, trying to find a foothold.

"No..." he muttered, shaking his head. He had to stay strong, had to fight them off. But it was so hard—so hard. His wrist throbbed, sending fresh waves of pain through him, and his legs trembled, barely able to keep him upright.

They swirled closer, the sound of their wings a deafening roar. You carry one of us, they whispered, we know you...

"What...?" Aylin's voice was barely a whisper. His vision swam, the storm and the swarm melding into a chaotic blur. He stumbled back, his feet finding no purchase on the uneven, cracking ground.