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9
A bunny.
A fucking bunny.
Of all of the things my butterfly could have dressed up as for Halloween, she chose one of the most basic bitch outfits. I'm not sure if I'm more annoyed that she's flapping around campus with her fucking tits and ass hanging out, showing off what is mine for the entire male population to see, or of her lack of creativity and imagination. Adjusting my top hat, I scan the crowd from my spot on the bench, eyes landing on my Thecla betulae as she chugs from a keg, her bunny ears flopping over her eyes when she stands back up. It's definitely the lack of brain cells that bothers me most. Unlike her, I actually put thought into my outfit. I have to admit, I've certainty outdone myself this year with my vintage-inspired Jack the Ripper ensemble.
Lucky for my butterfly, the holiday has put me in a rather good mood. It has been my favorite for as long as I can remember. It's the one time of the year that I can be me without all the dramatics; no one is ugly crying or screaming for someone to call the police. The holiday makes people wet with desire to see wicked things. They laugh and party and drink, all while watching someone die right in front of their faces thinking it's a part of the show. The ugly crying doesn't come until well after I've disappeared.
Tonight, I have something exciting planned for Thecla betulae. Something I've been daydreaming about since the idea popped into my head last Halloween. I catch myself smiling whenever I think about it, heart thumping behind my ribs with anticipation. I have a feeling this will be my favorite collection to date and not because of my butterfly. My eyes find my butterfly once more, watching her grab the fluffy bunny tail on her naked ass to make sure it's still there. Where the fuck else would it be? I've really let my standards slip for this one, I'll admit. She was more of a convenience pick, not like all of my perfect beauties I already have pinned in my shadow box. I'm not sure if spending time with a certain weirdo has something to do with that or if I was more focused on my actual plan to really care who my prize would be.
It hardly matters though, my butterfly will look just as stunning as the rest.
Just as perfect.
Pulling out my phone, I look at the time. Pretty soon, my butterfly and her group of friends should be heading to the haunted house on the edge of campus. I stand, adjusting my vest before walking in the opposite direction of my butterfly and her obnoxious costume. I need to get to the house before she does if I want this plan to work. If she doesn't show up like planned, I'll just have to find a substitution. I've waited way too fucking long for this to just not do it. That would seriously piss me off, though, so my butterfly's fluffy ass just better be there.
It's about a fifteen-minute walk to the haunted house, and I should get there a few minutes before they actually open up for people. If my butterfly leaves when she's supposed to, that'll give me eight to ten minutes to prepare for her. Well, probably longer if she fucks off in the line, which really is likely. Slipping around the back of the building, I bypass the gathering people outside of the front and open the back employee entrance. I'm not an employee, but I doubt anyone will stop me. I've found that more often than not if you act like you belong somewhere, people just believe you. People are so funny in that regard; everyone is always so trusting.
Grabbing an extra mask, I remove my hat and slip it on before making my way through the dark house. Thanks to visiting the place a few days ago, I already know where I need to go and how it's going to happen; everything is already in place for me. I also showed up for rehearsals last night to know where all the other people will be hiding for their own scares. Right here, on the second level that overlooks the entrance, is where my beautiful but stupid butterfly will make her grand entrance into my collection. My quick, excited breaths are loud inside my mask, and I feel myself smiling again.
I duck back, standing between some large curtains and neon cobwebs as the regular lights shut off, strobes, and red bulbs taking their place. Music blares through the strategically placed speakers throughout the house, ghastly howls, and screams that adds to the ambiance. People have to walk through several rooms of horror down below before they get to the upper level to explore the rooms. Besides a few zombie clowns that jump out near the bottom of the stairs, there is nothing but decorations from the stairs landing to the room on the far left of the upper walkway. I imagine it was a precautionary thing so that people wouldn't fall down the stairs or over the banister. Opening up an old servant’s hallway, I quickly move through the halls to the door at the bottom of the staircase.
The hardest part of this whole thing will be grabbing my butterfly when her group gets scared by the clowns and pulling her back with me without anyone noticing. Theoretically, it shouldn't be that difficult. You can barely see anything, and her screams will get swallowed up with all the others. If by chance, I am caught grabbing her, I'll just play it off as part of the entertainment. Opening the door near the end of the staircase, I hide with the other decorations. My mask is getting hot with my adrenaline, my hands starting their tremble of excitement. I almost feel... giddy?
I stand and sweat in place far fucking longer than I anticipated waiting for my butterfly, my doubts that she might not even be coming starting to take over and ruin my mood just as she pops through the doorway. I can barely hear myself think through the pounding of my heart in my ears as I watch her scream over some fake spiders on the floor. I know she'll have to go through the other rooms before I can make my move, but just knowing she's here gets my blood pumping. In approximately twelve minutes, I'll be that much closer to getting my Thecla betulae.
Time ticks on so slowly when you're waiting with anticipation, and after what feels like an eternity in the dark, my butterfly flutters over toward the staircase. I've timed the zombie clowns with the other groups to know when I can grab her. I know that there are three clowns that come out in various positions. I will need to grab her just after the first so that the group will be too scared and distracted by the second to see my hauling her off. Lucky for me, she's still near the back of her group with an equally naked looking cat, their hands linked as they walk in my direction.
I almost feel sick with my excitement, my stomach nauseous as I wait for that first clown. She passes me by a foot, and my breath heats up my face as I resist the urge to grab her now. Like clockwork, the first clown jumps out, and I make my move. Springing forward, I grab my butterfly around her waist and yank her backward as her startled scream turns into one of true terror, breaking her hold on her friend. Her friend starts to look our way since her hand was tugged but is immediately distracted by the second clown, just like I hoped for. Fighting the wiggling woman in my arms, I slam the servant door closed. She's still screaming, her bunny headband falling to the ground as I drag her upstairs. Swinging her sideways, I smack her head on the wall to disorientate her a bit, getting her to stop fighting me as much.
Reaching the second floor, I slap a hand over her mouth as I wait at the doorway, listening for any new groups coming this way. Her group should have passed by now. Hearing the fake chainsaw sound from the kitchen, I know I have about three minutes before that group gets to the clowns below. That means I need to work quickly. Shoving my butterfly forward, I let her hit the floorboards, her arms giving out from under her when I step on her back. I grab the rope I'd laid out yesterday and yank my butterfly's head up enough to secure the noose around her neck. Pulling her up, I fight off her wild swings, letting her hit me a few times as I move her exactly where I want her to be; her back facing the banister. Pulling the paper butterfly from my pocket, I stick it down the front of her outfit. It won't be displayed nearly as pretty as the others, but it will be tucked away from them to find later. With one final look at my beautiful Thecla betulae, I shove her chest. Even in the dark, I see the terror written along her features, her arms wildly swinging to catch herself. And to her credit, she almost does, but I push her heeled foot to tip her even further.
And just like that, my butterfly flies.
And it's so unbelievably beautiful.
Screams sound out as the front entrance is opened at just the perfect time to watch her decent, her feet swinging just above their heads in the most theatrical display I've ever managed to create. I hadn't planned on a new group coming in, but fuck, it is everything. I can't help but laugh, my hands clapping at my own show. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, I sneak back into the servant’s hall and shut the door. Opening a door that takes me near the exit, I get rid of my mask and grab my top hat once more. Stepping into the cool fall air, I adjust my vest before leisurely walking away from the haunted house. Everyone here will just assume she's part of the show, a bit that was thrown in at the last minute. It won't be until tomorrow morning when they come to clean the place out that they will realize she's not fake. It will cause mass hysteria among the workers and all the participants who saw her dangling above their heads all night. She will be brought up every Halloween, never forgotten.
My butterfly will be forever memorialized, all because of me.
