Golden Rule

Drexel studied the tiny form. Creepy-crawlies had fascinated and repelled him in equal measure since childhood, and the years had not diminished these feelings.

With a deft movement of his tweezers, he plucked another limb off. Just two left! He loved this gradual imposition of stillness on the frantically wriggling chaos held between his fingers. The exercise of power, however petty, felt good.

A horribly loud clicking noise made him look up. Two huge, bristling... Insectoids confronted him, clearly agitated. They moved fast, binding him tight.

Even before the aliens’ mandibles closed around his legs, Drexel began to scream.