The Swarm

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There are things in this world that people cannot explain, things that, because of their unexplainable nature make people scared. The people who come in contact with these things are changed forever and the people that hear of these things seem equally impacted. One of the many things humanity has yet to explain, though try it might, is a story my father told me once when I was younger. He told me about the time he met a demon. It was a warm summer day and my father had finished his tasks for the day, so like any child his age at that time, he went to swim in the lake. The particular lake he went to swim in was about 4 miles from his home. Not caring my father packed a lunch to eat and began his walk. Things started to become strange half a mile in. He had noticed an unusual amount of insects had begun to appear. He kept walking however and the number of bugs grew until the road had a thick blanket of black covering it. My father was horrified sense bugs like this ment a bad news for the small farming community. However another thing soon caught his attention; a figure was hovering above the swarm. It had wings that were beating so fast they looked like a blur, and black smoke curled around it. He stood there starring at this creature for what seemed like an eternity, frozen by fear. Finally the thing moved, slow at first like it didn't want to scare him. It drew its hand up and beckoned my father closer. He stepped back and the things was in front of him, grabbing his arm. He could clearly see the scales that covered its body and its eyes. My father had shuddered when he told me about them. How the iris swirled and churned like purple flames, and how he could see hands pounding on the inside. The creature howled with the screams of thousands and the swarm of insects that had once been sitting on the ground quietly rose in a cacophony of buzzing and flight. They hit my father causing bruises and cuts to form almost immediately. With all of his energy my father yanked against the creature and ran for his house. The thing laughed and ran after him for a couple of yards gaining quickly but just before it grabbed him it stopped but he continued to run. As he ran the swarm grew thinner and thinner until there wasn't any bugs at all. He kept running though, not stopping until he was at his front door, swinging it open and slamming it shut once he was safely inside. My grandmother rushed over to her son calming his rambling down enough to tell her what happened. Ahe shook her head and dismissed the story telling him he must have fallen asleep when he sat down to rest. He insisted that it was not a dream but when he raised his arms to show her the cuts and bruises they were gone. My father swears that to this day, when he is listening to the wind, he can hear the wigs of that horrific creature beating and he is once again reminded of the swarm. Many people have heard the story and many have given elaborate explanations for what had actually happened but I believe my father. So now I must ask a question, do you hear the buzzing of the swarms wings?

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 28, 2018 ⏰

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