Moth Wings

Scarlet red light of the rising sun seeped in through the blinds, casting the room in a bloody glow. Emily blinked her dull blue eyes open slowly, quickly shutting them once they met the harsh light. She brought one hand out from under the protection of her blanket and rubbed her neck, which was painfully sore for some peculiar reason. Her whole body felt cold and ached dully as if she had fallen out of bed during the night. Perhaps she had fallen out of bed in her sleep and then subconsciously climbed back in, or maybe she had slept in an odd position?

The young girl sat up and stretched her aching muscles, rays of sunlight glowed like stripes on her skin and bed as they filtered through the closed blind. She closed her eyes and sat there for a moment, basking in the sunlight, though its warmth just would not soak into her skin as it usually did in the morning. She blinked her eyes open and noticed that the door to her bedroom, which she faced in her sitting up position, was slightly ajar. Emily had taken to locking her bedroom door at night, believing it was a rite of passage once you became a teenager.

She slowly drew the covers off herself and slipped her feet into her slippers. Since the sun was rising Emily knew that her parents wouldn't be awake yet and although their bedroom was down the hall closest to the stairs, she still wanted to be quiet. Both her mother and her father slept like rocks, but like locking her door at night, being quiet around the house had become another habit she had obtained when she had become a teenager, sneaking downstairs at odd hours of the night to get a snack.
She shuffled tiredly to the door and yawned as she placed one hand on the door knob and the other on her hurting neck. She opened the door inward and looked lazily into the hallway.

Emily suddenly jumped back, the sound of her gasp muffled by her palm which had jumped from the door knob to her lips. There, standing right in front of the door frame in the hallway was a man. Before she could muster a scream, she blinked and the man was gone. Though Emily had only seen him for a mere heartbeat and whether he was a figment of her drowsy mind or not, his image was burned into her memory.

He had been wearing a neat black suit, along with a dark dress shirt underneath with a white tie. He had stood there as if posed as a body guard, his legs spread apart to keep his stance and his hands clasped firmly behind his back. It reminded Emily of those expressionless men that television depicted FBI agents as. He had been a rather skinny man with smooth, dark brown skin and large lips that were a slightly lighter shade than his skin. They seemed to be out of proportion with his narrow face and nose. Almost like ones that can be found at a masquerade ball, on the upper half of his face he wore a mask. This mask had been unlike anything Emily had ever seen before.

The mask was a large moth that covered the top half of his face, the stout and fuzzy antennas reached to where his hair line began, moving back and forth slowly in an infinitesimal fashion. The brown and beautiful wings stretched wide across his face, twitching gently like the antennas. The hind wings, decorated with one bright orange ring on either wing, obscured his cheek bones from view. The abdomen of the moth ended at where his nose began, the tips of the hind legs placed gently on the bridge of his nose. The thick and fuzzy thorax was where the space between his eyes should be, though the forewings veiled his eyes from view.

It was grotesque, calming, beautiful, unique, dead but breathing, and exhilarating all at the same time. It caused an unfamiliar and indescribable feeling to bubble cautiously inside Emily as if it the feeling itself was unsure if it was supposed to be inside the body of such an ordinary creature like herself. But like the man, the feeling exited as quickly as it had come.

Emily closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. The hallway was still empty when she opened them again. Deciding she would get more sleep tonight, she turned left and made her way down to the far end of the hallway where the bathroom was. She still felt very cold, so a nice warm shower would do her good this morning.

She closed the bathroom door and locked it behind her; glancing back to make sure her towel was hanging on the hook attached to the door. She pulled her dark hair out of its messy bun, slightly relieved that the shower curtain was already drawn back so she wouldn't have to pull it back slowly and find the moth mask man behind it like in the scary movies. It wasn't like she was actually scared at all, though.

Emily turned the knob on the shower and undressed quickly, giving the water a moment to heat up. She stepped in the cascading droplets of water and gasped- the water was still very cold. She twisted the hot water knob again, but still the water did not get any warmer. Emily noted how the water was giving off steam, indicating that it was hot, but then why did it feel like ice against her skin? She looked down at her bare feet, and noticed another startling fact.

The steam swirled ominously around her feet, tendrils of vapor reaching out and caressing her skin though she still felt no heat. Though steam swirled around her, and she could feel the stinging coolness of the water droplets raining down her, no water was splashing and hitting the bottom of the shower. The beads of water faded and disappeared as they entered the cloud of steam at her feet. She skimmed her fingers across the shower curtain, which was devoid of water droplets as well.

Without bothering to wash up, Emily turned the shower off fiercely and reached for her towel on the bathroom door. She tied the towel around herself then pulled the shower curtain back, stepping out onto the cold tiled bathroom floor. She took a few steps forward and found herself staring into the mirror.

The mirror was covered in condensation from the steam, distorting the reflection of the bathroom. Something was off though, something was wrong with the reflection. How a reflection could be wrong though, Emily didn't know.

She took a tentative step forward, ignoring the fact that she felt water dripping off of her but heard not one single drop hit the floor. Emily placed a hand on the mirror, her heart pounding wildly, and then dragged her hand across it, revealing a non-distorted portion of the mirror.

Emily's eyes widened and goose bumps rose all along her flesh. Her reflection was not there. Why wasn't it there? Suddenly she noticed something. Her heart froze as cold and piercing terror grasped it with its disgusting claws. In the shower behind her stood the man with the moth mask, still in his official looking stance, the moth wings still moving the tiniest bit. This time his hands were clasped together in front of him and not behind his back, and Emily saw a glistening silver watch on his left wrist, the face of the watch reflecting harshly off the bathroom light.

She gasped as she felt something disgusting all over arms. Little insect feet, crawling all over her, bushy antennas brushing her skin gently, insect like wings flapping against her.

Without bothering to turn around and clarify whether the man was actually there or not, Emily heaved the bathroom door open and ran out, back to her bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. She dressed quickly, disregarding the fact that her hair was still dripping wet but still the room was lacking the sound of water droplets hitting the floor. Emily went over her plan in her mind as she pulled on pair of jeans.

Don't look behind me. I don't care if he's there. Get Mom and Dad, and then get out of here.

Now orange light filtered in through her bedroom window as Emily crouched down and reached under her bed, pulling out her metal soft ball bat. She stood in front of the door, one hand firmly gripping her bat, the other the door knob. She took in a deep breath and then pulled the door open. She exhaled loudly as she faced an empty hallway.

This time Emily turned right, walking quickly toward the staircase. Her parents' bedroom door was opposite of her own, their door a few feet away from the stairs. If they weren't awake yet then surely the sound of her heart pounding in her chest would wake them?

Emily busted into their room, her eyes wide and frantic.

"Mom, Dad, we have to get out of… the… house… "

Emily began urgently then trailed off as she saw that their bed was empty. More fear and worry began gnawing at her insides as she noticed how their bed was unmade. This was very out of the ordinary since her father was a very neat and meticulous man who had made it a priority to make the bed every morning.

Emily backed out of the room, both hands wringing fearfully around the handle of her softball bat. Where had they gone? Did the moth mask man get them? Her fear was so overwhelming it made Emily feel sick to her stomach.

The pain in her neck ever constant and the feeling of warmth still absent from her body, Emily stepped quickly toward the wooden stairs and stepped onto the first one. Her body tensed up as the scene taking place at the foot of the stairs unfolded before her eyes.

Her parents were down there, both still dressed in their pajamas, but they weren't alone. Emily's father's arms were wrapped protectively around her mother as she wept into his shoulder, her sobs echoing eerily and seemingly coming from a great distance, not a mere thirteen steps below her. He father's face was blank, as if he couldn't comprehend what was happening around him.

Beside them stood a man in a police uniform who bore a somber expression. In one hand he held a note book, in the other hand the pen he was holding hovered over the paper.

"I'm sorry for you loss Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, such a terrible thing to happen so suddenly. She must've tripped from the top step for a fall like this. From what the medics have said though, it happened quickly. She broke her neck on the first few stairs and didn't even feel the rest of the fall. "

Her father just nodded numbly at the officer's words, which sounded distant and echoed like her mother's sobs.

They were gathered around a peculiar mass lying limply and lifelessly at the base of the stairs. Emily narrowed her eyes and inspected the mass closer. The sounds of her mother's sobs faded away along with all other sounds as she realized what it was. Why, it was Emily herself! Except down there she was still in her pajamas. Her neck was twisted at a disgusting angle that seemed anything but natural, and her arms and legs were splayed at her sides like a rag dolls.

Suddenly the man with the moth mask was down there as well standing with all of them, though they seemed oblivious to his presence. His hands were in the pockets of his dress pants and he was looking down at her. Or the rag doll version of her, Emily supposed. He raised his left hand to his face and seemed to be looking at his watch, even though Emily knew that the moth wings were blocking his eyes.

He then turned to her, and Emily knew. She knew that there were eyes there. Why they were blocked she didn't know. Many explanations ran through her mind, but she settled on her favorite one. This man's eyes were just too beautiful to be seen, that was all. And as those too beautiful eyes she knew were there but couldn't see seared into her own dull blue eyes, she realized that her hands were empty, her soft ball bat gone.

"It's time to go, Emily," A quiet voice but kind, other worldly voice whispered in her ear.

Emily didn't take her eyes off the moth mask man, and he didn't turn away from her, and though they were still at opposite ends of the staircase, Emily knew that the voice belonged to him.

Emily just nodded, her eyes becoming hot with tears and her throat too tight to form words.

The moth mask man's hand reached up and touched her face; he was now standing on the stair below her. His skin was soft but cold as he wiped away the tears that were escaping- the tears were the first warmth she had felt for what seemed like the longest time.

"It's time to go, Emily," He repeated softly, the moth wings that concealed what Emily knew were his beautiful eyes flapped gently.