Ravenous Butterflies Novels & Stories

I growl, stepping frantically forward, whipping my head around, trying to figure out which one was mine. “Oh no!” Laila gasps. “Can you just call up a new one?” I try it, but as soon as the bug alights from my hand twenty more butterflies again appear. “It’s this one!” Anton says, darting forward, his eyes fastened on one of them. “I’m sure of it!” Trusting him, we all dash after Anton down the street, doing our very best to follow the correct butterfly. But eventually it goes beyond us, and we’re left behind in the press of traffic.

( Name: Poisonous Bloodthirsty GU Age: 10 000 years of age Life Span left: 1 000 000 years Origin: Underground Sea Water Insects Species: Poisonous Insects Positive Effect: Sealed half of the Host power in a half of a half Negative Effects: Inheriting the bloodthirstiness of the poisonous blood thirsty GU Closing the Five Sense, including the warmth of love Cold all year around including spring Rarity: Rare Place (Usually born): Hidden depilated and nearly haunted apartments bathtubs Total: 5 Blood Thirsty GU’s Ratings/Meanings Butterfly Blood Thirsty GU – suck butterfly blood for supplement, will restore energy to 70%, will restore 20% if blood was used as its supplement and can weaken the

I finally look up, smiling to see thousands of butterflies of all different sizes and colors hovering around me. Some rest upon my work equipment, some found seating on my shoulders and head, while others flap their dainty wings to stay close to my perfume that oozed with a smell that I know is delectable to their kind. It is a pretty site in fact, but I know the next step would only be more wonderful. Still conscious of time, I only have a couple of minutes left. And whilst Raphael seems overly confident to begin with, he now doesn’t look so sure as to whether I’d lose.

When she was younger, she frequently went on outings with her mother, during which time she got to witness a variety of stunning butterflies. She could still remember like it was yesterday how, whenever her mother sang with her clear voice, silver butterflies would appear out of nowhere. The sight of them always made Miren incredibly happy. These butterflies are called by Miren's mother's beautiful voice, and when the butterflies appear there will be a large swarm.

I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies maybe more followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want.

He smiled, a genuine, unburdened expression, and reached out a tentative finger to touch a vibrant butterfly that had landed on a nearby flower. Its wings, a kaleidoscope of colors, shimmered in the sunlight, a fragile masterpiece of nature. Then, the idyllic scene shattered. The butterfly, a symbol of beauty and fleeting joy, morphed into a swarm of a million ants, their tiny bodies coalescing into a writhing, menacing mass. They descended upon him, an army of miniature terrors, crawling over his skin, their mandibles biting and stinging, inflicting a thousand tiny pinpricks of agony.

Her voice was small and barely a whisper – the temptation to close her eyes and start her slumber was like a siren’s call for her. Upon her command, a flock of black butterflies immerged from the darkness of her room. They heed their master’s command and from the accumulated shadow within the flock, a floating egg was seen. It was placed under their master’s arms as if she was curling around it – protecting it. With the command being delivered, the flock of Slaughter butterflies entered Cent’s shadow, waiting to be called again – the taste of angel flesh still lingering their predatory instincts.

Butterflies fluttered as I plucked a strand, and an unconscious smile formed on my lips. “Look, that golden butterfly looks so majestic when it flutters its wings.” Raven gushed. I nodded, “Yes, yes. But that does not answer the question.” “Ooh, what was the question again?” Raven asked, her eyes distracted by the butterfly. She reached out the tip of her finger for the butterfly but the butterfly didn't come to her, she pouted. My eyes gaped in exasperation, “Raven!” I called firmly. “Okay, sorry, sorry. The butterfly is just too beautiful.” She turned to me smiling sheepishly.

Her perfectly serene doll-like look was ruined however by the tired scowl which decorates her face. Rubisviel Fyaril, the Orchid Butterfly Witch of the Dark Forest wipes the sweat from her brow and huffed after completing a drawing of a Cthulhu symbol inside her circle. Thick black bags hang under her tired golden eyes and her face was paler than usual. Her head hurts like a battle-ax was splitting it open and her shoulders and legs are aching after prolonged hours of sitting on the ground and focusing on drawing the symbols.

He was here. The sun was up and in my eyes. The first thing I saw was a sheer curtain attempting to keep the morning light away. The wind blew, sending the curtains up to the ceiling. The few seconds that the window was left bare, I caught a glimpse of the flowers designed by mother nature blooming in bunches and shrubs. They were in a dozen poignant colours, the reds looked like it could bleed. And there were butterflies, two– no three fluttered in my vision. Their wings, quite small but painted like it could only be made for the museum or for Disneyland. The curtain closed and I saw the room more clearly.