Insects

September 8, 2017
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The campfire cast an orange-red glow on its party, contrasting with the pitch-black darkness of the surrounding wilderness. It was as if it was them and only them, floating amid nothingness.


   “You think this is smart?” The beetle turned to his comrade. “The smoke will alert them to our presence.”
   The fly just flicked his translucent wings. “I do not fear the enemy. Let them come.” The large compound eyes turned to look at a smaller set. “They would never expect us to fight back, they think we are all craven. But we will, won’t we?”


  Pondering this for a moment, the beetle responded. “We’ve been running for so long, I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.” The fly shook his head at that.


  “There is no sleep for us now. Sooner or later, we must deal with the inevitable,” he watched the smoke rise into the night sky.


   The beetle shuddered, “And what is the inevitable?”


   “Death, of course. We don’t know how and we don’t when, but we know he’s coming,” the fly laughed, “Well, we know how and when now, don’t we? What a way to spit in Death’s face!”


  This confounded the beetle. “I certainly don’t know.”


  The fly never responded, and so they sat in silence. The firewood crackled. Antennae twitched. A gunshot rang out. The fly’s head was now nothing but splattered green goo. A human came into the light, reloading his shotgun.


  “Damn pests!” Before he could do much else, the beetle tackled him and bit his mandibles deep into the human’s neck. Blood gushed and the screams were loud. It all happened so fast the beetle hardly processed when multiple other humans entered the clearing, saying nothing as they all aimed their weapons. The beetle spit some blood in their direction before being gunned down. The humans quickly extinguished the fire and then the darkness engulfed everything.






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