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Moths



Estimated reading time — 6 minutes

The first thing Jenny noticed about the new house wasn’t the Jacuzzi, or the wrap around porch, or even her new room. It was the moths. The first one flew out the door when they unlocked the house for the first time. It wasn’t a big deal, and the family had even had a good laugh about it. But then she started seeing more of them. Nestled in the corners, in drawers, even in the old pots and pans left by the previous owner. She hated moths. To her, they were just ugly, dusty butterflies. But nobody else seemed to mind.

At first Jenny though that nobody else was really bothered by moths. They were everywhere. They were in her room, and that’s what really upset her. But the most moths were in the living room. Every time she flipped the light on or walked into that room, she swore she could hear the rustling of hundreds of gray wings folding, trying to hide from her. She was surprised anybody would even sit in there. But they did, and they cooked with the pots, and the ignored the two moths flying around the ceiling fan at dinner.

“There are a lot of moths here.” Jenny stated, picking dully at her food.

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“Suppose so.” Her brother said, stuffing the cooked chicken into his mouth. She looked away, disgusted.

“Is it the light? I mean, maybe it’s the light that’s attracting them. We could turn on the porch lights at night to try and draw them out. Or maybe it’s the smell; that-“ Jenny was cut off mid-sentence.

“Jenny, calm down. There are hardly any moths. You’re just over reacting.” Her father said, cutting his food.

“I haven’t noticed any.” Her mother said, slowly sipping her soup. Since she had gotten sick, she hadn’t spoken much. She was looking better today, it seemed like. Or perhaps it was just the lighting. Jenny remained silent, eyeing the moths above her head.

She didn’t sleep that night. She couldn’t. It seemed when ever she closed her eyes, the moths started moving. They hid from her; of course, they knew she would swat them if she saw them. But when her eyes were closed, the moved. She put in her earphones, and tried to block out the noise. It took her an hour, but she finally fell asleep. Her dreams were gloomy and confusing, and she didn’t remember them in the morning. But the words screamed in her dream were still in the back of her mind, ‘The moths.’

She awoke to the sun peeking through her window. She sighed, and covered her head with her covers. An eruption of wings came from her bed, flying up past her face. She screamed, realizing the moths were not only on her bed, but also in her bead. She jumped out and ran into the hallway, panting. Her brother stumbled out of his room, wide eyes glazed over.

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“W-what?” He asked, looking around. She could only stare as three moths climbed slowly through his doorway, onto the ceiling. She covered her mouth as another moth crawled over her brother’s foot. He didn’t even notice.

“There are moths everywhere!” She screamed. “How do you not see them!?” He sighed.

“You’re such a drama queen.” He mumbled, going back into his room. Jenny stayed, staring at her open door, back against the wooden railing, for a while. She couldn’t go back in there. She couldn’t. It had been like this for a week already. No more.

She went downstairs for breakfast, still in her pajamas. Her father looked up at her in mild surprise.

“Aren’t people usually dressed by 8:30?” He asked, returning to his toast.

“Yeah, funny thing about that. I was awake this morning, at 6:00. But then I was woken up by moths, Dad. In my room. In my bed.” Jenny complained, still shaking off the memories.

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“So that was you screaming your head off this morning?” He asked, looking up at her with a slightly angry expression.

“I- Have you even listened to me? Dad, moths! Everywhere! Up on the ceiling, in the furniture! Yes, I was screaming, because there were 20 moths in my bed!” She exclaimed furiously. How could he not see what was crawling over his breakfast plate? She shrieked and picked up the newspaper, smashing the moth on the table. Her father jumped back, almost knocking his coffee over.

“Listen, Jenny, I know you’re upset about the move and all, but this is ridiculous! Okay, yes, one moth. But you woke your mom and I up last night, and she wasn’t able to get back to sleep. You know how important sleep is for her, don’t you? Now, I think you should go into the living room and apologize to her.” Her father said sternly. Jenny was dumbfounded. Did he not notice, or did he just hate her? She knew there was no point in arguing. When the ‘Mom is sick’ card is pulled, you may as well fold, because there is no way you’ll win. She straightened up and spun on her heel, heading to the living room.

Her mother was sitting on the large brown sofa, eating more soup. Jenny grimaced as the moths nestled farther into the safe cushions.

“Hey, Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just the moths-“ Jenny tried to explain, already feeling bad for what she had done.

“You know what, Jenny?” He mom demanded in a hostile tone, “I’ve had just about enough of the moths. I haven’t seen any; they’re not bothering anyone. But you jut have to keep pushing and pushing for attention. You think this move hasn’t been hard on all of us? I’m the one dying, Jennifer.” Her mom stared at her with a coldness she had never seen before. Jenny backed up. Her mother had never been cruel. Even when she was diagnosed, she took it in stride. Her eyes darted up as a moth grasping to the ceiling fan slowly dropped down. It landed in her mother’s soup bowl. Her mother, still looking directly at her, spooned the struggling moth into her mouth. There was a small crunch, and then nothing. Jenny grasped the wall behind her, and ran to the front hallway. She didn’t know where she was going. Just anywhere but here.

She ended up beside a river. She didn’t know which one. She had just run until she was gasping for breath. Then she had walked. And eventually, after about an hour, the path she had been following faded away onto a riverbank. She sat where the sand and grass met, slowly tugging pieces of grass up. Something was wrong. Her brother, an alert, determined boy had been so sleepy lately. A moth could crawl the length of his body and he wouldn’t even know. Her father, a quiet, studious man, was angry and harsh. And her mother… her sweet, sickly mother. She was cruel. She rested her hands in the grass and sighed, tears pricking her eyes. What was happening? She felt tiny legs crawl over her index finger and pulled her hand up quickly. A small, grey shape fluttered up. She screamed, and ran. There was no place to run but home.

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The walk home took longer than the run did. By the time she was back, it was around lunchtime. She saw the car was gone from the front of the house. They must have gone someplace with out her. She sighed again, and looked down. She felt guilty and angry and upset. But most of all, she felt confused. At this point, everyone had abandoned her. Her friends, her family- but not the moths. She made her way to the back door. Luckily, it was unlocked. She let herself in and made herself a sandwich, not paying any attention to the moths. After finishing, she went back to her room and fell asleep.

Hours passed by. The car returned, but nobody woke her up or checked on her. When she opened her eyes, it was dark. She didn’t sit up, or even move. She knew the moths were there. What did it matter? There were moths on her ceiling. Maybe one would fall in her mouth. Maybe it would land in her eye. She didn’t care. The moths above her moved slowly, forming a shape. No, a letter? A word. The moths had lined up to shape a crude word: ‘Jenny.’ Her eyes widened. Sure, nobody cared about her and she had nobody left to rely on. But moths could spell. The rearranged themselves. Three words, in order; ‘We’ ‘Need’ ‘Jenny.’

A shape moved in the corner. Jenny’s eyes quickly shot to the object. At first, it looked like a mass of moths, moving together in a cloud. But then she saw it: Two eyes, red. Staring at her. At first she thought she imagined it. But it grew closer. It was in the shape of a man, but with wings. His body was covered with a short grey fur. She should be scared. She should be screaming. But something about this was calming. Like this was meant to happen. He reached out an arm to her. The moths above her now read, ‘Go.’ She sat up, the moths flying up around her, dispersing from her covers. And she took his hand. It was warm, yet cool at the same time. The fur was rough, and small claws protruded from his fingertips. His did not hurt her, though. He needed her, as did the moths.

The moths needed a Queen.


Credit: 1000Masks

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35 thoughts on “Moths”

  1. Hahaha this whole thing reminded me of a text some dad sent her daughter, after she was ‘trapped’ in the bathroom by a moth x3 Great story.

    1. I remember that

      It was something like
      “Dad theres a moth in the bathroom help me”

      “Dad is dead someth

  2. I feel like there’s something amiss here. All those thought about the family acting out-of-character and then… mothman out of the blue, no more mention of why the weird behaviour was happening.
    As a sidenote, I’ve had an actual moth infestation at my aunt’s house. It’s more gross than creepy (especially when you get not only the moth propers but also the larvae, crawling all along ceilings and walls and falling on you when you least expect it), but the point is, we did something: sprayed the place, vacuumed them away as much as possible and so forth. Your character seemingly can’t do much more than complaining, even I would treat her a bit harshly, He-Mom was right.

  3. It’s an original idea, which I love. Very clever, very imaginative.

    That said, I’m with everyone else on the spelling and sentence structure issues. I’m not trying to beat a dead horse, you’ve already very gracefully acknowledged the errors – but it really does ruin the immersive effect of the story. Nothing takes the reader out of a story faster than being reminded that they’re reading words on a screen (or page), and not watching events transpire before their very eyes.

    That said: HE-MOM HAS THE POWEEEEEEEERRRR.

    Please write more, you’ve got real talent.

  4. Thanks for all the comments. I didn’t know this even got accepted until today, and I honestly thought it wouldn’t. I realize there are typos now, thank you (all of you) for pointing that out. As I said before, I didn’t think this would be accepted, so it isn’t some of my finest work. But still, thank you for your comments and criticisms, all very much appreciated.

  5. It reminded me of something fresh out of a Junji Ito manga– very unique. Your vocab isn’t bad. The ending, however, was weak.

  6. This bothered me: “She screamed, and ran. There was no place to run but home.
    The walk home took longer than the run did.” I don’t understand in what world these sentences A) really matter to your story (who cares how long it took to walk VS. run?) or B) make any sense.

    You need to learn basic sentence structure. When a character says something, you do not write it like this: “Hello, Jenny.” He said.

    That is awful grammar. The correct form is: “Hello, Jenny,” he said. Haven’t you ever read a book? Your typos were annoyingly distracting as well.

    As for the story, I was not interested. It seemed like you were trying hard to be mystical but also wanted the reader to be horrified at the thought of lots of moths. In the end I didn’t give a crap what happened to Jenny or her family.

  7. The writing was good, payoff no so much. So if she is their queen, does that mean she has to make the babies? O_o

  8. Definitely deserves more than the 6 stars it currently has. Solid pacing for a microhorror and streamlined descriptions. My suggestions would be to rework the river scene to at least show how she got there and to clarify whether Jenny’s family was fading on their own and the Moth Man was there to rescue her or if the Moth Man was draining them so Jenny would feel alienated and be less likely to resist him.

    Great writing.

  9. Captain Butternut

    It’s been a while since I read a mothman story. The story itself was good, however the delivery could use some work. 7/10

  10. Did you even proof-read this? Nothing is more jarring in a creepypasta than spelling mistakes and awkward sentences.

    This story really felt like it was going nowhere the whole way through with an ending to match.

  11. I think it would have been more interesting if the story had to do more with mothman than just the protagonist seeing moths everywhere, especially since in the mothman mythos the creature has more to do with disasters and future visions.

  12. “You know what, Jenny?” He mom demanded in a hostile tone,

    Jenny?” He mom demanded

    He mom

    HE-MOM

    lolololol

    Decent pasta, though not very scary. But after I saw this, I could only imagine the mom as He-Man in drag pretending to be sick. Sorry.

  13. YOU CAN'T THE USERNAME!('s new avatar)

    The ending didn’t do anything for me, but I’ve always HATED moths, so this was deifently creepy for me. 9 and a half stars out of 10.

  14. Do you hate the word they? I saw several instances where “the” was used instead. xD
    Besides that, it was an alright story. 6/10

  15. I really liked this one. A couple of small spelling errors, and i felt like the part about spelling out her name in the moths was a little cheesy, but otherwise it was great!

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