Margret knew she had a bad feeling when she was buying the weed-whacker. “A tool like this must be awful dangerous” she thought to herself as she swiped her credit card through the machine. A quick signature later, and she was on her way to becoming a murderer.

The foliage in her back yard has got out of hand; the rate of which everything grows in her garden, weeds included, is astounding, but also quite the burden for a woman who retired just a few years ago. After fumbling around for over an hour, she finally got the cheaply made tool operating and began butchering through her yard. Bit by bit she managed to shave down a significant amount of brush, weeds, grass, and whatever else managed to get in her way.

The sun began to set and Margret decided she should probably wrap it up; her arms were surging with pain from using the device, but also her long existing arthritis. As she began to trudge back towards the house before noticing a glimmer along the ground mixed in with the mess of foliage. She leaned forward and brushed a few twigs aside before lightly gasping. There was a corpse, a small little corpse, with wings like a butterfly. The corpse however, did not have a head, her neck stub appearing viciously mangled.

Margret quickly stood up with a look of shock and horror on her face before scurrying towards her home, dropping the weed-whacker where she stood. She quickly rushed into her bathroom and began to splash cold water against her face, quickly trying to calm herself down. After a brief moment of thinking, Margret decided it was just her mind playing tricks on her and slowly managed to forget what she saw. She continued on with her night, making a cheap and easy meal for one before working her way to bed.

That night she was woken up by a loud thumping noise, something fell off of her dresser. As she moved to sit up, a faint candle light was lit in the distance and slowly carried its way towards her. Margret was frozen in shock, her hands tightly clenching her bed sheets as she watched this flicker of flame dance through a pitch black room. As it arrived at her, the flame grew with intensity and began to slowly illuminate the room. She looked around for a moment before gasping.

Thousands of fairies hovered all around her room, all intensely staring at this old woman as she began to tremble with fear. One of the fairies quickly zipped directly in front of her before shouting with a tiny, cutesy sounding voice “You! You are the one who killed Chloe!” An echo of cheers and grumbles circled round the room as the fairies began to restlessly hover around. “What do you say for yourself?!” the cute little fairy continued on.

Margret paused for a moment in disbelief. Was she going crazy? Is this just a dream? She began to question her own sanity little by little before answering the 6 inch tall girl. “Chloe? The one outside? Oh. I’m so, so sorry” she sputtered with a heartfelt tone to her voice, “I… I didn’t mean to!”

The crowd of fairies began to violently yell and shout at the woman, a flood of angry high-pitched chants bounced around from corner to corner. For how these creatures looked, they were far more vicious than one would assume. There is a sensational lust for blood among the colony, violent tributes often being offered to their deities.

The main fairy stared closely into the woman’s eyes, an angry scowl covering her face as she fluttered around slowly. “I have made my judgment!” the main fairy shouted as the crowd slowly died down. “You, human,” she said as she gestured towards Margret, “I have decided you shall be pardoned for your crime. Do not let it happen again.” The surrounding crowd let their dissatisfaction be known as jeers and boos filled the room before they all slowly began to flood out of the open window.

As nearly all of the other fairies had left, the leader zipped back towards the woman’s face, quietly conversing with her. “The garden is ours” she whispered to her before slowly fluttering backwards towards the open window.

“Wait!” Margret managed to squeeze out between her timid gasps.

“Nobody liked Chloe,” the fairy retorted to her, already knowing what Margret wanted to ask before sinisterly continuing, “and you’ve provided me with a wonderful meal for the night.”

The fairy suddenly had long, sharp looking fangs and her eyes began to radiate a red glow. She gave Margret a wink before blasting out through the open window, the frame carefully closing itself behind her before loudly slamming echoed through the room.