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Legion

27 Sep

Every fall an army is born. One that will strike without warning, without fear. They hide in the shadows, close to trees. They do what they can to not be seen. It is with this knowledge that I write to you, a simple man racked with unbound fear. For I have seen these creatures, these terrible monstrosities and I know what they are capable of.

Do not rake your leaves, as pushing these littered corpses together into one conglomerate only makes the beast that lurk in them stronger. This pile, the monument to your hard work of keeping a tidy yard, will soon become a home base to these monsters and you will inevitably become an accomplice to everything that they are capable of.

I myself fell victim to their trap. I was like you once, wanting to keep my yard pretty by having the leaves raked tightly together and ready to be picked up by the end of the week. I was proud of the work I did, as it took a full hour of manual labor to get it done. When I finished, like many have before me, I opened a fall brew and sat back and admired my work.

That admiration of my work continued through the fall because these monsters are a dormant beast. Yes, you heard me correctly. You musn’t let your guard down. As I felt victory through the fall and even all through the winter I was high on my accomplishment. I had kept my yard beautiful, with displays of decorations to celebrate the holidays as an added touch.

No, the legion struck in the spring. I was unprepared for when it happened. My foolishness was leaving leaves in the back as I felt the public eye couldn’t see them. That is where the problems happened. The monstrosities hid and laid as pupae in the dead leaves that had created a warm layer for them to thrive in the winter. When spring struck, their children were born and they attacked at me in a voracious way.

I had went to let the dog out and had turned on the outside light. It was a crisp spring evening and as I stood, now enjoying a spring ale from my favorite local brewery, they struck. An army of the brown heathens flew at me, or so I thought, with intense speed. I stumbled as best as I could into the house, yelling in terror for my dog to return. He did but at that point it was to late. The beasts were inside my house and swarming around their god. I swung at them and tried to smash as many as I could, but it was too late. My home was now theirs and I was a slave to their control. To this day their image haunts me, swarming and worshipping the lamp in my living room.

the moth

The legion of moths are now supreme.

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