(TWWM) [Origins] Kiran

The house had been abandoned decades ago.

It was little more than crumbling stone walls and broken panes of glass now.

It was constructed from concrete, but it wasn’t very strong, wasn’t ever meant to be. Parts of the walls crumbled to dust where it had once stood proudly, the corners built up high and arching down low. Wooden window frames were barely even connected to walls at all, some had fallen off a couple days prior and deteriorated a decade or so back, damp, shattered wood laid about a soaking wet floor.

The floor was made of concrete too, but the poor ceiling had been constructed out of wood. The frame was barely intact, much less the shingles or the cover underneath. Gigantic holes shined moonbeams down into the dilapidated shelter, if one could even call it that. But it also let hell and high water inside - soaking the wood and the concrete, leaving puddles on the ground where it had worn away at the sediment into divots for it to rest.

Shattered glass from animals diving in or perhaps a human trying to break in laid about the floor. Neither animal nor human would find what they were looking for - it wasn’t an appropriate place to hide, or seek warmth, and there were no valuables left inside. Just memories long forgotten from a time unknown.

Not even bugs would find solace in this lonely house on rolling hills of forlorn land. Spiders had infested every nook and cranny of the home, even the peeled leather couch was overrun with the creatures. The beams of light streaming in through the roof would attract almost any bug, especially nocturnal ones, and it was only a matter of time before one landed in the dozens of webs, trapping them. It was the most perfect situation… if you were the spider.

The other side of the coin was a vicious cycle of the hunted being caught by the hunter. And tonight was no different. Though this kind of moth usually didn’t have an issue getting out of a web’s snare, this spider had its eyes on them for a long while, and had prepared nearly as long.

Fluffy scruff and feather-like antenna were ensnared by a sticky web, which pulled and pulled but never let go. The moth’s wings stretched out, revealing a smattering of blueish grey fading to white and and four dark brown “eyes” surrounded by jagged lines. The moth was hoping to scare off the predator before anything regrettable happened by making itself as large as it could, and as menacing as it could.

It didn’t work - it wouldn’t work. It never would have.

Moonlight streamed in from the rooftops. The moth’s most beloved friend, and now their most treacherous betrayer. The moon is what had led them to this fate, and it was at the moon’s will and under its gaze where it would die.

The hungry predator crawled from its hiding place higher up within the webs, ready for the meal that it had been waiting on for days now.

The moth panicked, struggling, trying to break free from the webs as the spider lurched closer, and closer…

When the Little Moth opened his eyes for the first time, they couldn’t recall anything. Which was perhaps the best thing about this situation. The only problem with not remembering anything at all, is you couldn’t explain why certain things were so off putting that they made you want to simply… disappear. To stop existing.

Everything about the house made the Little Moth feel like that. The crumbling walls, the damp floor, the moonlight itself felt like a bane to their very soul.

But the worst part - the worst part was the spiderwebs.

The webs were everywhere. Every corner had them, sometimes the spaces in between the walls had them despite it being several feet wide. And the spiders were everywhere.

The Little Moth was much larger now, but that didn’t negate the fear. No, just looking at one of the webs brought visions of being ensnared, of being coiled up in silk, left to suffocate or maybe even just eaten alive. Their fur raised on end with every glance.

The bright sun shone down in beams from the leaves of the one above them. “It’s alright, little one. They can’t hurt you now. Very little can.”

Their soft but firm voice settled the shivers running through them, but it couldn’t settle the other thing - the pit of nausea that pooled in their abdomen, the feeling of weakness that sank into every inch of fur, it made their limbs shaky and it barely allowed them to stand.

Given a second shot at life - with barely any life to give it.

“It probably hurts.” Their voice spoke softly again. “Please, give it time. Don’t force yourself.”

“I-I need to leave.” The Little Moth breathed with no lungs to fill, the musky air tainted everything around them, and it was all they could do to ask to leave. “Please, I can’t stay in here.”

“Alright. I can bring you out.”

The shining one helped them limp out of the premises of the old house, but as soon as they crept down the steps from the door and onto the grass, they collapsed in a heap onto the ground, unable to move any farther.

Their grey fur shimmered in the moonlight, the thin layers of dust and dampness coated them and made them look like they belonged to the moon itself. The large white “eye” that patterned their shoulder was so dusty that it was almost the same colour as the rest of their fur.

“Little Moth, are you alright?” The shining one’s voice elevated to a slight panic as their creation collapsed onto the Earth, unable to move any farther, somehow feeling even weaker outside the house than they had inside. Before they could even respond, the shine of their beautiful eyes went dim, blacking out not even a half hour after being reborn.

The shining one brought them back inside.