The Butterflies

This is a parody of Hitchcock’s The Birds written for the Dead Pan Contest. Sookie follows Eric to Bodega Bay only to discover mysterious and unsettling behavior from butterflies. Just imagine the terror. Rated: M – Parody/Humor – Chapters: 1 – Words: 2,690 – Published: 6-14-10

Thank you to Thyra10 for being my wonderful beta.

Charlaine Harris owns the SVM characters. Somebody else owns The Birds.

The first time I saw Eric Northman I was in a little pet shop in San Francisco trying to buy some grub worms as a gift for my grandmother. Eric was tall and blond and extremely handsome. I was kind of a babe myself, but had a reputation for being trouble. I pretended like I was a sales girl and flirted shamelessly with him, but didn’t quite get the rise out him I’d hoped for. I was lost in those beautiful baby blue eyes and drawn to his perfectly muscled body like a magnet as I wondered vaguely what kind of annual income he earned. I rifled through the pet store’s paperwork to get more information on the new object of my desire. I found out he was a lawyer who spent weekends with his mother and sister in Bodega Bay, and made it my mission to learn more. Yeah, he was that cute.

So, I bought a pair of caterpillars in a little gilded cage and drove up to Bodega Bay to deliver them as a gift. What man could possibly resist a woman who comes bearing larvae? They were particularly cute caterpillars too—one was slimy and green and the other one brown and fuzzy. I knew Eric would be putty in my hands once he saw I was offering him my wooly bear.

I didn’t know the Northmans’ actual address, so I stopped at the local post office/ general store and asked for it. This was way before the word stalker had even been coined, so the guy didn’t even bat an eye when I asked for the address. He mentioned something about the “little Northman girl” and it being her birthday, and I said, “Great idea! I’ll pretend this is a gift for the little girl and get points for being sweet. Then once I have him all buttered up…”

“Exactly!” He told me he thought the little girl’s name was Cathy, but he wasn’t certain. I wanted to write her name on the card as part of my manipulative scheme to get Eric in the sack, so I asked who would know the girl’s name. He sent me up the road to the local school marm.

I went into the school and interrupted class because my needs were much more important than whatever the teacher was trying to teach those kids. The teacher was a gorgeous brunette named Felicia. She had one of those husky voices and a bod to die for with those pointy boobs that were popular in that decade and I wondered whether she might be my competition for Eric’s attentions. I lied and told her I was an old family friend bearing love worms but couldn’t remember how to spell Cathy’s name—with a C or a K. It turned out the girl’s name was Pam, so I was glad I asked.

I jumped into my little convertible and scooted down to the dock to rent a boat. Driving out to the house just seemed too simple and ordinary. I liked doing things with a certain flair. Me and my little cage of worms motor-boated over to the Northman house. I sneaked inside like a good little stealthy stalker and left the cage and the card for Pam. Then I high-tailed it out of there, started back across the water, and stopped and watched as Eric went inside and then ran out looking for me. I knew he’d spotted me when I saw him raise the binoculars to his eyes. I pretended like I was just stretching, but I unhooked my bra and flashed a nipple in his direction and then innocently continued my little boat trip back across the water, all the while watching Eric driving along the coast to meet me at the dock. Oh yeah, I definitely had his attention.

I was feeling pretty good about my little man trap and sitting up pretty in my little boat as he waited for me when suddenly a butterfly swooped down and started fluttering in my hair. It was crazy. I’d never seen anything like it. It batted its little paper-thin wings, messing up my hair-do. It dislodged a bobby pin that scratched my forehead, drawing blood, and then just like that—it flew away.

Eric and the boat guy witnessed it and helped me out of the boat as I docked, completely flustered from the attack. They said they’d never seen a butterfly attack a human like that before and didn’t know what to make of it.

I kind of liked playing the helpless female victim while Eric held my hand and looked all concerned. He took me to the local diner for badly needed medical attention (because there’s nowhere else you want to be with blood oozing from your head than in a restaurant full of people eating their lunch). Eric’s mother just happened to come in and she gave me the cold shoulder. I just ignored her as Eric invited me for dinner. I lied and told him I was staying with a friend and would love to join him for dinner. I picked up a granny gown and toothbrush from my buddy at the general store and invited myself to stay at Felicia’s. She confessed that she had been in love with Eric and I said, “Get in line, bitch.”

I drove back to Eric’s for dinner and met his little sister, Pam. I was pretty surprised to see that she seemed to be in her mid-twenties and was kind of a blonde bombshell, but I wasn’t in any position to judge.

After dinner, Eric walked me out to my car and we noticed a bunch of moths flying around the porch light and thought it just a little odd. I drove back to Felicia’s, uneasy about the whole insect thing that seemed to be brewing, but my mood lightened tremendously when Eric called and invited me to Pam’s birthday party the following day.

Just as Felicia and I were getting ready to turn in, we heard a loud thump at the door and looked out to find a large Monarch butterfly dead on the front porch. It was both mysterious and gruesome.

I showed up the next day at the birthday party in the same outfit and hoped no one would notice. Unfortunately, the general store didn’t have any party dresses in my size. The birthday party was full of little kids even though I counted at least two dozen candles on Pam’s cake. Felicia was helping Mama Northman with the kids while I mooned Eric, luring him up into the hills to steal a kiss or two when suddenly the party was attacked by a swarm of butterflies. We all scrambled to get the kids inside. Eric, Felicia, Mama Northman and I gathered the children together and tried to swat the evil insects away. I kept thinking that Pam should act her age and help us, but she continued to pretend she was a little girl and ran around in circles screaming like a lunatic.

We finally got the children to safety and called the sheriff. Once the kids were all gone and Felicia was out of my hair, I started playing little miss handy helper and pouring tea for Eric’s mom to calm her down. Eric invited me to stay for dinner before driving back to San Francisco. Just as my mood was improving, suddenly a huge swarm of butterflies came down the chimney and began fluttering and floating around in the living room, threatening our very lives. We fought them off as best we could but they were relentless, flapping their evil wings in our faces. Finally, Eric was able to shoo them all back outside, but we were all pretty shaken and I decided I’d better stay the night.

The next morning, Mama Northman took “little Pammy” to school and I thought—finally! I can get Eric alone and get a little action. But as soon as I started to show him what I’d learned in pole-dancing class, his mother drove up like a bat out of hell and stumbled out of her truck. She ran past me into the house and we followed her in, cursing under our breath that we wouldn’t get a chance to make out.

But then once she began to tell her tale, I felt kind of guilty. It turned out she went over to see her neighbor, old Bill Compton, and found his house in disarray with the windows all broken and smashed tea cups hanging from the hutch. She called out and went looking further into the house and that’s when she saw it—his disfigured body lying on the floor, eyes all hollowed out and bloody. She dropped her purse (indicating just how upsetting it really was) and flew home to call the sheriff.

Local law enforcement was trying to solve the mystery when I offered to fetch little Pam home from school (why she couldn’t just drive herself home was beyond me). Once I was at the school, I told Felicia what had happened and all about the neighbor who had died and the tragic loss of fine china. We noticed a suspicious gathering of butterflies on the playground equipment and started to discreetly escort the kids away from the school when suddenly, there was a vicious attack. The children were all running and screaming and in the chaos, I made it to the local diner as the attack subsided.

I explained to the townspeople what had happened, but no one believed me. There was one old woman who claimed to be a leading lepidopterologist. Eric showed up and backed my story up, but public opinion was already set in stone and no one would listen to him. The lepidopterologist kept pointing her finger, spitting wild-eyed accusations at me and swore up and down that butterflies were passive and harmless. I’d never known a lepidopterologist to be a liar, but that’s what I called her to her face. We got into a shouting match and she started pulling her credentials and framed diplomas out of her purse. As soon as she produced that butterfly net, I knew we were in trouble. Sure enough, a giant swarm dove out of the sky and began to terrorize the entire town. I was trapped in a phone booth as they flapped their feathery wings. I was paralyzed in fear and spun around helplessly in my glass coffin with no way to call out for help. Oh wait, there was that phone in there I guess. But I was just so blinded by all he flapping and bright pretty colors that I couldn’t even function. I began to mess up my own hair-do in confusion and soon took on the disheveled appearance of a butterfly-attack victim, and I wondered helplessly if this was the end for me. People were running and screaming and a man got confused by the fluttering all around him and accidentally blew up the gas station. As soon as the terror subsided, the town went back to their mock-trial of me, accusing me of bringing the evil butterflies into their community and waving their pitch forks in my face. Just as they were tying me to a stake to burn me alive, Eric saved me and we ran up to Felicia’s house to fetch Pam.

We found Felicia’s dead body on the front porch, her eyes pecked out, surrounded by little pieces of butterfly wings. It was a horrifying sight and an excellent opportunity to grab onto Eric and cop a feel. Pam was inside the house, crying hysterically about how Felicia had pushed her back into the house and saved her. I wondered why Pam didn’t help since she was clearly an adult and probably not too much younger than Felicia, but I kept it to myself. If Eric knew what a pansy I thought Pam was, he might not want to poke me anymore, and that was still my main goal for the weekend.

We all went back to the Northman house and Eric started boarding up the windows and I thought—yay! This’ll be kind of like being snowed in. Maybe I’ll get laid after all. Then suddenly we heard a massive assault on the house. Eric was fighting the butterflies as they tried to get past his barricades. They were bashing their tiny feather-light bodies up against the giant pieces of furniture Eric had pushed up against the doorways and windows. The lights went out and we knew they had somehow chewed through the wiring or perhaps shattered all the fuses in the fuse box like they had those tea cups at Old Man Compton’s. It was chaos again as we weathered the brutal attack, and then suddenly it stopped. We were all exhausted from our day, pulled out our snuggies and started to nap.

I was awakened by a noise and took a flashlight upstairs to investigate completely alone. Sure, there were other people who could protect me, but they were all sleeping so peacefully strewn across all the living room furniture. I saw no reason to disturb them. I mean, what could possibly happen to me wandering the house alone? I opened the door to a bedroom and saw a hole in the ceiling and hundreds of pupae hanging from the rafters. Suddenly, they began to open and slowly and delicately, butterflies began to emerge. I stood still, unable to move from fright while the miracle of metamorphosis took place before my eyes. The whole event probably took about an hour but my feet were rooted to the floor and all I could do was watch in terror as my fate was sealed. Then, they were all over me. I felt the delicate brushing of wings across my skin and I suspected they would try to poke my eyes out with their sharp little antennae. I tried my best to swat them away, but they were just relentless, their evil wings flapping and fluttering all around me. I began to lose the will to live and collapsed onto the floor. I could feel them lighting on my body to rest but just didn’t have the strength to fight any more. I accepted my fate and began to lose consciousness just as someone reached in and dragged me out by my arm to safety.

Eric and his mother bandaged me all over where the tiny wings had come into contact with my body. I was mad with fear and batting at the air, my eyes as big as saucers. I forgot all about trying to get into Eric’s pants, so you can get a pretty good idea just how traumatized I was. Eric and his mother decided I needed medical help and maybe psychiatric care as well. I was catatonic, but heard some whispering about electro-shock treatments and maybe a frontal lobotomy, so Eric went out to start the car up to get me to the hospital. As I came outside, the entire lawn was teeming with pastel movement. It was a veritable sea of butterflies—some were perched along the roofline. The ground was swarming with them. I touched the porch railing and a wing flapped aggressively in my direction. I was terrified, but we kept going. Pam ran back to get the love larvae in the cage and then we drove off into the sunrise. Yes, we had survived the unthinkable, but I knew in my heart that none of us would ever be the same again.

XXX