His heart hammered in his chest as he ran. He bounded in long, quick strides, going as fast as he could. Jeff had to tell them. His breath came harder and hotter as he ran farther. His lungs ached and his right side had the worst stitch he had ever felt. Tears ran down Jeff’s cheeks from it.

But he had to tell them.

The long grass whipped past his legs and he stumbled on a rock, but somehow managed to keep his footing and his forward momentum. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose with a finger. He could see the shack now, barely standing out in the night’s darkness. He dove for the door handle as soon as he was within reach. He flung the door open and was knocked stumbling backward by a rough push against his entire body.

He raised his eyes and looked up into the doorway. A flood of magic butterflies spewed from the shack, their wings rustling against one another as they flew their way out. Thousands of the ghostly insects erupted into the night sky, their pale yellow color fading into the darkness like glimpses of a phantom.

Jeff tore his eyes away from the sky and stepped into the shack. His knees, weakened from running, failed him and he fell. His glasses slipped off his face and clattered on the floor.

“Ness? Paula? Poo?” He was in tears, “Somebody, say something! Tell me you’re here!” he raised to his knees and groped for his glasses, “I didn’t mean it! You’re more important than the research! TALK TO ME!”

His fingers clasped around the frame of his glasses and he slammed them onto his face. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he wished he hadn’t put them back on after all. Jeff gasped and lay his face in his hands, breaking into body-shaking sobs.

Magic butterflies were scattered across the room. They crawled over the floor. They fluttered wet wings as they trod on the Boogie Tent costume. Their probisci uncurled and flexed as they stood on the mounds candy strewn over the floor. They pranced delicately across the remains of Ness, Poo, and Paula.

The three lay at unnatural angles on the floor, limp and lifeless. A few slower butterflies crawled out of their hollowed heads. They slunk from their ears, their parted lips, and their empty eye sockets. They unfurled their blood-wet wings and softly opened and closed them, airing them out for flight.