A horror fan since childhood, a geek by nature, and a jokester by heart, Ian believes entertainment, no matter what form it takes, combined with laughter, is the best medicine to combat life's challenges.
His favourite movies amongst many others are Aliens, The Thing, LOTR, and Star Wars.
He is a father and is currently living in Melbourne, Australia with his partner, son, two stepdaughters and 4 cats, which is enough of a horror story on its own.
You can follow his exploits on Facebook at Ian Gielen - Author
WINGED SHADOWS
by
Ian Gielen
“Moths, why’s it gotta be goddamn moths?” Detective Mark Jones muttered in disgust as he eyed the corpse at his feet.
His partner, Robert, chuckled with amusement as he bent down and used a pair of tweezers to pluck one that had fallen beside the body before them.
“What do you have against moths?” he said, waving it before Mark’s face with a grin.
“God, get that damn thing away from me,” Mark said, pushing Robert’s arm away, his face ashen as he eyed the body.
Mark and Robert had received a call to investigate a suspected murder at an abandoned house on the outskirts of Philadelphia. A drunkard passing by the nearby alley overheard screams and choking sounds and immediately reported it to the police. The police called in the detectives after discovering the condition of the body lying in the second-floor bedroom.
It wasn’t hard to see why. Jammed into the bedroom corner, the man’s body lay as if he had sought refuge within the walls themselves. His face showed pure terror with his wide, vacant blue eyes locked onto a spot in the room’s center. His skin had a pale waxy sheen to it, but it was his mouth which was open impossibly wide and the contents it held that turned Mark’s stomach.
A mesh of mottled brown bodies spilled from his mouth. The soft, powdery forms filled every inch, with stick-like legs splayed out in every direction and small bulbous heads featuring large black beady eyes and long antennae. Piles of them lined the corpse on either side, some of them laying on the chest, the mouth unable to contain the pure volume of them all.
Besides the moths, there were no other visible wounds on the body.
Mark stepped aside as the M.E. took over to analyse the cause of death as Robert called to him from the window overlooking the street.
“Looks like we have a fan,” he said, waving his hand at the man watching them from behind a large tree on the opposite side of the street.
The man seemed like a vagrant with a filthy overcoat and dirty jeans. However, it was what he held that caught Mark’s attention.
“Is he holding a moth?”
“It definitely seems to have wings. I’ll go check it out.”
Mark nodded.
“I’ll stay here and see what the doc says.”
Robert left the house and ran over to the man who hadn’t shifted from his position as Mark approached the M.E.
“Found anything doc?”
“It looks to be exactly as it appears. The cause of death is suffocation from what I can tell, but we’ll know more once the autopsy is done.”
Mark nodded as Robert returned.
“Any luck?”
“The man’s name is Jake; he is a vagrant who lives on the streets around the area. He claims to have seen a shadow that looked like a giant moth at the window in this room before the incident. Can you imagine? He laughed.
“He said it looked like this, the same moth as the ones in this poor sucker’s mouth, only much bigger,” he held out his hand containing the moth, the same type as the ones near the body.
With a sigh, Mark shook his head.
“Well, that’s a dead end then. Let’s head back and get the paperwork done.”
Casting a final glance out the window, he observed the vagrant’s fearful expression, his eyes locked on Robert. Frowning, he thought no more of it.
After completing their work at the house, they proceeded to the office to file their reports.
It was nearing midnight when he had wrapped up the report and headed home when Mark’s phone lit up as he was preparing for bed.
The autopsy findings showed that not only was the mouth filled with moths, but the stomach was also completely packed with them, suggesting they were forcefully ingested. Upon analysis, it was discovered that all the moths were of the same type - the common brown house moth.
Putting down the phone, Mark felt his gorge rise, and he ran to the bathroom, emptying his stomach.
Mark had always had a fear of moths, and this case was getting to him. He retired to bed. The sound of fluttering wings beating filled his head as his imagination shifted into overdrive.
“Great, I’m clearly not getting much sleep tonight,” he groaned to himself, shifting positions uncomfortably.
The sound continued, and he suddenly realised it wasn’t his imagination. He sat bolt upright and stared in the direction of the fluttering, his eyes widening with fear.
There at the doorway was a large, moth-like shape. Hundreds of flittering moths, their wings beating in agitation, surrounded it, their large mass parting as a figure stepped through the swarm toward Mark.
“Robert?” Mark said in confusion as he recognised his partner’s grinning face ambling toward him.
Robert approached him in ungainly strides, an unnatural stiffness in the movement of his limbs. Something was very wrong with him and soon it became clear what it was.
Two black, bulbous masses now occupied the space where his eyes used to be, extending outwards from his face. A shimmering, velvety sheen of light brown fur covered his exposed skin, lit by the pale moonlight through the window.
The giant fluttering shape of a moth formed above his head as he stepped aside to reveal the gigantic form he had seen before, bowing to it submissively as it beat its wings and hovered at the foot of Mark’s bed.
Mark screamed in horror at the sight of the creature, the utter alienness of its appearance sending his mind into madness. His mind shutdown, unable to cope with the immense fear that consumed him as his slack open mouth filled with the soft, skittering forms of moths, forcing their way down his throat into his stomach.