Butterfly, Watch Me Die

They chase me through my nightmares, tiny wings fluttering soundlessly with razor-sharp edges, ready to cut me to pieces.   I hear them, flapping outside my door.   I sit on the floor, clutching my net, waiting for them to find a way past my futile defenses.   Suddenly, I hear a fluttering above me.   I look up, and there it is, flapping against the light fixture, the designs on its wings staring like hideous glaring eyes, its proboscis curled in malice.   It is joined by another, then another, until finally they block the light in a huge terrible mass.   I swipe at them, trying to fend them off, but soon they are upon me.   My hand gropes through the air, my mouth open in a silent scream, but to no avail.   The last thing my eyes see before the blackness comes is a set of tiny, gossamer wings shining like glittering diamonds.