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Stories and Poetry of the Past
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#993923 added September 22, 2020 at 9:02am
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The Butterfly
Writing.Com Item ID: #2173074
Title: The Butterfly
Item Type: Static Item
Brief: Metamorphosis
Last Modified: 10-27-2018 @ 10:46am
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The Butterfly

Marcus stood under the streetlight waiting for his ride. The rural road was dark and empty. The air held a fine mist that hinted at future rains, with the moisture adding a chill to the night. Marcus snuggled into himself for warmth. His hands were stuffed deep into his jean pockets and his shoulders were hunched against the wind. His jacket hood was pulled tight around his face with only his cheeks and nose illuminated by the light. He cast a lonely shadow. From the tree above his head dangled a single thread, much like the fiber tossed out by the spider to use as an exit from the web. Floating freely in the breeze, the thread unraveled from its home in the trees. Marcus failed to notice the iridescent thread descending on him.

He turned only at the rustling sound of movement behind him. Standing as a solitary figure in his shadow was a woman. Shadows failed to hide the softness of her curves and the fetching appeal of her shape. Her wavy long hair glistened in the light. There was a grace to her stance, a beauty that appeared from nowhere in the dark of the night. It was as if the Gods had placed a gift upon an empty road for the man. Marcus licked his lips eager to partake of the meal placed in his path.

She moved toward him slowly, like a fluttering butterfly. He was mesmerized by her elegance. Any thoughts of the ride he had waited for had long since drifted from his head.

"Hello," he offered, unsure of any other words to bestow.

"I am Gina," she said with an enticing lilt to her voice.

"I'm ...Marcus," he stuttered.

"Yes, I know."

Like a lure on the end of a fishing pole reeling him in, he was propelled forward. She touched his shoulder gently, leaving behind a single thread. She moved backward slowly away from the man. Romantic was the dance, they shared in the moonlight. Their tango of steps entwined was shortlived. The fiber wrapped gracefully around Marcus encasing him in a shiny web of Gina's making. Fangs, white and gleaming, extended from her mouth severing her connection to the man. He could feel the grip of tightening ribbons squeezing. Crushing like a powerful vise, he was helpless to fight. Filaments, strong and clinging, held him in place. The air from his lungs was expelled in a violent gust. Like a tornado, the wind swirled from the swaddling that Gina had placed him. Marcus suffocated in her cocoon

Marcus and his shell ascended into the tree. Gina stood to wait for her next victim.

The silver Subaru piloted by Jerrod inched up to the curb. He looked around for his friend but found only Gina. He waited a moment to see if Marcus would appear. He was captivated by the woman standing alone in the night. Jerrod and Marcus had planned to see a movie in the city. Jerrod was unopposed to a change in plans, especially if it somehow involved the gorgeous woman. Rolling down the passenger's window to the halfway mark, he called out to Gina.

"I'm supposed to pick up a friend. Have you seen anyone else standing here?'

"No, it is just me and my friends here," she said as she waved her hand toward the tree overhead.

He tilted his head in a quizzical manner, just as the strand of silk flew from her hand. It entered the window's opening attaching itself to Jerrod's arm. At first, the feeling was as warm as a hug and as intimate as the act of lovemaking. It caressed him and bathed him in a tender embrace. Jerrod melted into the welcoming threads of silk. All at once it was violent and terrifying, as the filament wrapped a clenching grip around him. With the flick of her wrist, the strand recoiled toward her. Like a yo-yo, Jerrod was pulled through the glass that shattered as Gina rewound her thread. He was wrapped in the mummified silk casing that sucked the life from him.

"Welcome, Jerrod. I want you to be my friend too, "she whispered. Jerrod woven tightly in his cocoon floated, like a child's bubble, to the nearest tree branch as she directed, with the pointing of her finger.

With her job completed for the night, Gina was gone as quickly and as silently as she had appeared. She returned to the branches of her tree to feed on the fresh catches of the night. Metamorphosis required sustenance. It took large stores of protein to create a butterfly, such as Gina. Marcus and Jerrod would satiate her hunger for the night.

Tomorrow, she would prowl again for her prey.

Word count 787


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