The Spider and the Butterfly

Chapter Eleven

Mist was laughing so hard he nearly fell down. So what if that dumb spider ran off with the butterfly? Or that his little scientist was dead? He already got what he wanted.

After Daisy and the gang were chased away, the clouds above the village had only gotten darker. The wind had picked up to such a substantial amount that Mist was impressed that his troops could fly at all. Until it started raining, that is. Then the wasps were nearly knocked out of the air by the water droplets.

"We lost them," the captain said to Mist. "The spider took her. They're gone."

The mantis only grinned. "She doesn't matter now! We did it! Nobody can stop me!" He stared out of the tree, and down at the village with malice. Humans were screaming and running indoors. The wind roared, and the sound it made was deafening. All of Mist's troops gave each other uneasy looks.

Right in front of the village, a large vortex appeared. It picked up dirt and debris as it started to head toward where the people lived. A few huts had already tumbled to the ground just from the gusts coming off of the twister.

"There it is! It's finally happening!" Mist yelled. "Take that!"

"Uh, boss?" one wasp tried to speak up.

"Not now!" the mantis snapped.

What the wasp was trying to tell Mist was that the tornado had shifted ever so slightly in direction. Mist himself didn't seem to notice the change until it was beyond too late. The twister wasn't moving very fast, but there was nowhere to go. The wind was too strong outside to attempt flying away, and besides that, the rain would drown most of them before they got within a few feet.

Only now realizing how many variables were out of his control, Mist turned to his troops. "All of you, down to the base! Brace yourselves! We're about to be hit!"

They reached the bottom of the tree with just seconds to spare. Mist and the wasps furiously dug to the roots and hid themselves among them. The tornado slammed into the oak tree, blasting every last leaf off of it and tearing its bark to shreds. The tree was lifted into the air, taking the mantis and his subordinates with it. Mist screamed, clinging for dear life to the largest root he could find. Many of the smaller roots around him broke off, and any wasp clutching one of these was sucked away never to be seen again.

The oak itself was twirling around in a mad circle, its branches breaking with deafening force and flying off into the black horizon. Was this what you wanted? Mist thought angrily to himself. Did you really plan for something this stupid to happen? Suppose the butterfly was still here, flapping her dumb wings until she died from exhaustion? Suppose the Wind Machine was still working? Maybe the stupid twister wouldn't have hit your stupid tree then, stupid!

Mist swore to whatever higher power existed out there that if he ever found that butterfly again (if she was still alive somehow), he would kill her. If he survived this, of course. Fear turned to rage, as he glared at the destruction and carnage taking place around him.