The Pupae

It hung there like a bat encased in its wings. It was warm, with a soft sheen, and when she put her cheek to the surface she could feel its life force pulsing from within. It was large, almost as large as her, and aside from the spraying and the temperature control, she felt the best thing she could do for it was to put her arms around it and breathe softly, sometimes humming, occasionally whispering words of encouragement. For years, a lifetime, she had nurtured it, fed it and kept it warm, loving it, watching it grow and gradually change shape. But of course it is not the chrysalis that truly changes shape, it is the creature it envelopes. For a little over two decades she had grown with it, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. They had grown and changed together and it was all she knew. For a few years now she had longed for a crack to appear in the outer skin, to peer in at it, see for certain that it was alright. But she knew that the very act of checking its progress would ensure its death. And so she waited. She continued to keep it warm and spray it, and go about her work every day to bring it to where it needed to be if it was to fly.
One morning, tired from the previous night’s celebrations and feeling thoroughly pleased with herself, she went to it, in its warm room. She closed the door behind her, picked up the sprayer and began to spray, for what was to be the last time. For there it was; when she looked closely she could see a thin line forming in the outer membrane. She smiled to repress a laugh. Mustn’t get too excited yet; it wasn’t finished. So she waited patiently, staying close by. Soon the membrane was coming loose and she helped it drop from the sticky body emerging from within. She opened the windows to help it dry out its wings.
Yet when the membrane had completely fallen away, and the creature she had nurtured with her heart for her whole life, finally spread its wings out for the first time, she saw not the beautiful colours and slender body she had expected. Instead there hung a hideous figure of furry bulk, bulging white eyes, pus coloured skin, short, fat legs, and wings of grey and yellow white. She could not suppress a scream of anger, terror and hatred – No! She fled from the room, into the street, running, running, as fast as she could until she reached the park. She slammed her back into a tree, cried out, scaring birds flying away from the branches, and sunk down to the ground where she sobbed until night fall.
An owl lighted on one of the lower branches and hooted at the stars through bare boughs. She shivered and awoke, remembering where she was for a moment, before getting up and walking, arms wrapped around herself, slowly back to whence she had fled. Up the stairs and through the creaking door, she lit a candle and made her way to the room where it lived.
Along the way home she managed to convince herself that it had all been a bad dream, a terror haunting her in the night – nothing more. But she pushed the door slowly and there it was; breathing, pulsating and waving its legs in greeting. The wings were dry and coated in a fine, grey powder. She hesitated, was about to slam the door and run away again, this time never to return. She closed the door gently and went to her bed. She was tired, so tired; drained from disbelief and despair. So she slept; she lay down on her familiar bed and fell into a deep sleep in which she dreamt of nothing, a nothingness that she was aware of. She felt as though she were looking into a black abyss, alone with nothing to hold on to, nowhere to go and no way of getting there.
She awoke to the dawn stealing in at her window and the soft rustling of wings behind the closed door. This time she could not run away. There was nowhere for her to go and nothing for her to do but open that door and meet the thing she had worked so hard to bring to life. There it stood, right in front of her, so close to what she had dreamed it would be, but corrupted and twisted. As she stepped closer to the colourless beast it waved its mouth parts to show its delight at seeing her finally. Its eyes, like glowing round globes, glinted in the early morning sun and followed her as she circled the fat, shining body. No longer did it hang upside down from the ceiling, but stood on the floor, its thick legs splayed to support its weight. She kept close to the walls, running her hands over the plaster to ensure she was as far away from the thing as possible. ‘Hello’ she said. It waved its antennae in response. It didn’t move as she circled it.When she was behind it and could no longer see its eyes she revealed the knife, leaped onto the monster’s back and tore into its soft flesh. No sound came from the beast but it bucked and writhed beneath the blade. Mournfully it folded its wings over its back, encasing its creator and destroyer, and laid them both down to die.