Instinct

When you see a butterfly, what's your first reaction? Do you cower in fear? Do you run and hide? Chances are you don't. Unless you have some kind of butterfly phobia that causes you to have an irrational fear of those particular insects. If memory serves, it's called lepidopterophobia. But that's really not important right now. If everyone was exposed to the butterflies in this story, we'd all be lepidopterophobes.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. The boys and girls in the lab were just doing what they knew they could do. Looking back, it seems that just because they could do something doesn't necessarily mean they should. They absolutely shouldn't have done this.

When they began their work, the powers that be could have given a number of great reasons why it was important to genetically alter ordinary butterflies. Whatever their reasons, however noble they may have been, it all ended in tragedy.

After breeding several generations of altered butterflies, the insects evolved into something the lab techs could no longer control. The first sign of danger came when the wings became as hard as a diamond. Being as thin as they were, it was as if the butterflies were floating around with razor blades attached to their bodies. Anything they came into physical contact with got shredded.

Next came the change in the butterflies' appetites. No longer were they satisfied with the nectar from flowers. These bugs became bloodthirsty. Their wings gave them easy access to all the blood they could ever desire. There seemed to be no preference for the type of blood they fed on. These new butterflies descended upon animals in the wild, livestock, domesticated pets and, tragically, people.

It was something out of a nightmare. We once lived in a world where butterflies acted skittish and instinctively flew away at the sign of danger. Now the butterflies were predatory in nature. Their only instinct was to attack. And feed.