Noise Moths Escape Dorm, Ravage Vocal Cords

Moths from Butterfield Hall attack innocent people on Orchard Hill

William (Bill) Gumby,
Facilities Manager
Artist's depiction of these events by Elaine.

I told them this would happen. I told the Chancellor himself I wasn’t capable of managing a goddamned quarantine. But he didn’t listen, both he and those bureaucratic bozos. “You’re the facilities manager, Bill,” they said, “So, do your job. Manage the facilities.”

I tried my best. I thought my idea to use radios to contain the moths was pretty clever. But it’s all over now... I could control the bugs. Kids are worse: unstoppable. I knew kids were sneaking into Butterfield to look at the moths and maybe even chew on them a bit. I tried to scare ‘em off. I put up signs. I boarded doors and windows. They’d pull off my boards. They’d chop my padlocks with bolt cutters. Every morning I’d go to Butterfield first things first to fortify, but it wasn’t enough, especially with The Society of The Loud, those rambunctious bastards, hosting an event on campus.

When I laid eyes on the massive swarm over Orchard Hill, I knew instantly what terror would follow... The sun was going down. People were relaxing. I hoped that by some miracle everyone would stay perfectly quiet. But, I couldn’t tell them to be quiet without being loud myself and getting myself swarmed.

It wound up being a basketball bounce that kicked off the massacre. The moths swarmed the kid who was dribbling. He screamed for help. The moths dove into his mouth as he yelled and tore him apart from the inside. His friends yelled and ran as the swarm chased them. The screams caused a chain reaction of the moths devouring people's vocal cords, witnesses screaming, and moths chasing the screamers, continuing the cycle. They got nearly everyone on the hill that day except for the few who managed to stay quiet during their escape. I personally acted in the only way I could imagine. I left my van where it was and quietly tiptoed back to my apartment.

The things destroyed everything that made a sound, biting the shit out of everyone from the inside-out. I watched students get eaten alive. I couldn’t do a thing about it. They’re still out there now, the moths, just flying around blindly in swarms, following sound. Stay quiet and keep your eyes up is all I can tell you. That, and I quit. I’m out of here. You’re on your own. Subbaswamy asked me to lock up Butterfield, but I haven’t been there since and don’t intend to return, ever. I am getting my ass out of town ASAP.

For more articles by William (Bill) Gumby, click here. To get in touch with this writer, email gumby.bill@surrealtimes.net.

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