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My favorite female mantis told me she saw streams of meat pouring from a locust cloud last night. The cloud scorched the skies and screamed so loudly that the trees below shed their leaves; and as greater amounts of meat smashed into the ground, the screams became more and more vicious. After all the rotten meat had been ejected, however, the cloud of locusts became pure, and it was free to eat harvests of men once again.

Perhaps this applies to you, child? You said:

“i overheard my father speaking with our local priest last night – an exortism is thought best, for my benefit. i am still a child and will be ready to bare fruit in the same amount of time as three life cycles of a roach.”

One day, I may take you into a meditation room. But you must come with a guardian, or your sister: the visions the insects give will be too great for you to handle without the support of a loved one. I will fill the room with moths and flies, and we will sit amongst them, all of us, and wait.

I have not left my lair for months, however. Soon I must use the rusty old elevator and climb to the surface for more supplies. If I find that experience bearable, you may join me for an exorcism some day soon. One day I will leave this place – but not before a few more visions. Receiving them is addictive, and I have not heard from the scorpions yet.

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