House of Moths #100wordscream

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I scratched at the glass

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I scratched at the glass. Moist breath coated the walls. My nails scraped along the dampness. I parted my lips to scream but nothing came out.

Above, lights flickered. Cascades of bright orange flooded the chamber. Below me treetops vanished.

I buried my face in the glass, my breath was fading away. My lungs, I felt as though they would burst. Death wafted around me, the scent lingered like perfume.

'What are these things called?'

'Humans.'

I looked up as they screwed the lid tighter till there was nothing left in the jar but the sound of my final gasping.

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