Beast staggers backward. "I hate maggots!" My brothers and sisters follow him as he backpedals away.
The other maggots trail after him until his boots leave the plain, climbing up a kind of staggered hillside. "I'll be back, you bastards! "
His boots crash up the hillside, thundering into the heights: BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. And then, he's gone. We're alone.
Safe f or now.
I hear his boots clomping overhead, pounding into the distance. Heavy weights fall far away, and things rattle and clang.
I turn to what's left of my family. Less than a hundred of us now, str ewn across the gray flats in a state of shock. Some still and silent, some weaving between the pale smears of our siblings' crushed bodies, weeping openly.
Welcome to the war zone.
I feel wobbly as I wriggle across the devastation. How is this possible? We were so happy ...and now this.
The clatter from above continues, growing louder. It fills me with new purpose. I know the Beast will be back. Somehow, I have to save the rest of my family from his wrath.
Calling out to the others, I tell them to gather near. I tell them the Beast will return, and we have to work together to survi ve.
Slowly, they come around. Shake themselves out of their shellshock and drift toward me.
Soon, I'm in the middle of a circle. My remaining family, nearly a hundred strong, fans out around me, listening to what I say.
I tell them we must find good hiding places far from the Beast and hole up until his rampage ends . There's no reason we can't survive this as long as we play it smart .
The tiniest maggot squirms out of the crowd to face me. Her chirping whistle surges with newfound courage. Shouldn't we try to stop him? she asks. How can we let this savage monster roam free? How many more of our kind will he slaughter in times to come?
In answer to her question, I sing the first verse of our secret song. The one I can't tell you about. It reminds her of who we are and what we believe. It convinces her to see the sense in hiding instead of fighting the great Beast .
We all join together for the second verse, our voices rising in perfect harmony. Our spirits soar.
Then, suddenly, we hear the boots approaching overhead--BOOM BOOM BOOM--and we stop singing. Something crashes at the top of the staggered hills ide, slamming open ...and the Beast descends.
We need to move instantly, but the sound of the murderous monster freezes us in place for precious seconds. We gape at the hillside, waiting for the horror, the one who massacred our beloved brothers and sisters, as if we're waiting for a storm or the end of the world.
T hen, he appears. He lumbers down the hillside, weighed down by what he's carrying out in front of him: a huge pot, billowing with steam. He carries it with both hands hidden away inside bulky brown mitts.
Whatever he's got there, it won't be good news for us maggots. That much, I know.
Leaping into action, I bark orders to the crowd, snapping them out of their trancelike state. I tell them to run as fast as they can for the farthest, deepest holes they can find. Run and hide and don't come out until I give the word .
I thump my tail on the cold, gray plain, and the others scatter at the signal. The ring of maggots around me bolts off in all directions, seeking shelter from the not-dead Beast .
Only the tiniest maggot remains at my side. She says she'll never let me out of her sight again.
BOOM BOOM BOOM. Just then, the Beast stomps down the final levels of the hillside and onto the gray plain. He is here.
Death has come for us again.
"Time to die, maggots!" The Beast laughs, his monstrous voice cutting to the core of me. "Time to drown in boiling water! "
I don't understand the sounds he makes, but the menace in his voice is clear. I start backing away , and the tiniest maggot moves with me.
The Beast places one mitt-covered hand under the pot, grips the rim with the other, and slowly tips it. Steaming water pours out in a sparkling stream,
The other maggots trail after him until his boots leave the plain, climbing up a kind of staggered hillside. "I'll be back, you bastards! "
His boots crash up the hillside, thundering into the heights: BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. And then, he's gone. We're alone.
Safe f or now.
I hear his boots clomping overhead, pounding into the distance. Heavy weights fall far away, and things rattle and clang.
I turn to what's left of my family. Less than a hundred of us now, str ewn across the gray flats in a state of shock. Some still and silent, some weaving between the pale smears of our siblings' crushed bodies, weeping openly.
Welcome to the war zone.
I feel wobbly as I wriggle across the devastation. How is this possible? We were so happy ...and now this.
The clatter from above continues, growing louder. It fills me with new purpose. I know the Beast will be back. Somehow, I have to save the rest of my family from his wrath.
Calling out to the others, I tell them to gather near. I tell them the Beast will return, and we have to work together to survi ve.
Slowly, they come around. Shake themselves out of their shellshock and drift toward me.
Soon, I'm in the middle of a circle. My remaining family, nearly a hundred strong, fans out around me, listening to what I say.
I tell them we must find good hiding places far from the Beast and hole up until his rampage ends . There's no reason we can't survive this as long as we play it smart .
The tiniest maggot squirms out of the crowd to face me. Her chirping whistle surges with newfound courage. Shouldn't we try to stop him? she asks. How can we let this savage monster roam free? How many more of our kind will he slaughter in times to come?
In answer to her question, I sing the first verse of our secret song. The one I can't tell you about. It reminds her of who we are and what we believe. It convinces her to see the sense in hiding instead of fighting the great Beast .
We all join together for the second verse, our voices rising in perfect harmony. Our spirits soar.
Then, suddenly, we hear the boots approaching overhead--BOOM BOOM BOOM--and we stop singing. Something crashes at the top of the staggered hills ide, slamming open ...and the Beast descends.
We need to move instantly, but the sound of the murderous monster freezes us in place for precious seconds. We gape at the hillside, waiting for the horror, the one who massacred our beloved brothers and sisters, as if we're waiting for a storm or the end of the world.
T hen, he appears. He lumbers down the hillside, weighed down by what he's carrying out in front of him: a huge pot, billowing with steam. He carries it with both hands hidden away inside bulky brown mitts.
Whatever he's got there, it won't be good news for us maggots. That much, I know.
Leaping into action, I bark orders to the crowd, snapping them out of their trancelike state. I tell them to run as fast as they can for the farthest, deepest holes they can find. Run and hide and don't come out until I give the word .
I thump my tail on the cold, gray plain, and the others scatter at the signal. The ring of maggots around me bolts off in all directions, seeking shelter from the not-dead Beast .
Only the tiniest maggot remains at my side. She says she'll never let me out of her sight again.
BOOM BOOM BOOM. Just then, the Beast stomps down the final levels of the hillside and onto the gray plain. He is here.
Death has come for us again.
"Time to die, maggots!" The Beast laughs, his monstrous voice cutting to the core of me. "Time to drown in boiling water! "
I don't understand the sounds he makes, but the menace in his voice is clear. I start backing away , and the tiniest maggot moves with me.
The Beast places one mitt-covered hand under the pot, grips the rim with the other, and slowly tips it. Steaming water pours out in a sparkling stream,
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