“She’s surprising in all sorts of ways.”
“Indeed. So, Mr. Green, I expect you have some news for me?”
“I do, but what the hell is that thing on your ceiling?”
Valentina looked up.
“It’s a lesser phobophage. A fear-eater.”
“And it’s on your ceiling because…?”
“I have cultivated a relationship with it. Symbiosis. It mitigates my troubling dreams and general anxiety and I keep it fed.”
He leaned forward and studied the thing. Its wet eyes blinked at asynchronous intervals.
“Why does this seem less terrifying than when I walked in?”
“As I said, it eats fears. You are sitting within its radius of influence.”
“What’s its name?”
“Again, it’s a lesser phobophage.”
“You didn’t give it a name?”
“This creature isn’t my pet, Mr. Green. It’s not a puppy.”
“Blobert. That’s a good name.”
Valentina grimaced.
“No.”
“And Dancer really couldn’t see it? That still feels so bizarre.”
“It’s the nature of what we do.”
“Seems a little lonely for Blobert. Part roommate. Part living antianxiety medication. I think Dancer might like the little guy.”
He had a sudden, hopeful flash that not all cryptonature was menacing or lethal. There was this odd medicinal blob. There was the glowing deer simply trying to escape a predator. It wasn’t all hunting wolves and deadly insects.
“Ridiculous. Don’t anthropomorphize. Now, I assume I found you asleep this morning because you have answers for me?”
“I do.”
He passed his notebook to Valentina and filled in every detail of his wake for the rag moth. The story felt less harrowing while sitting beneath the phobophage.
If she was impressed by Green’s cool head or blindsided by the method of the moth’s departure, she had an impressive poker face.
“Tell me, Mr. Green. Based on your observations, do you think it possible that the corpse was full of eggs? Not unheard-of in nature. The offspring hatching and eating the corpse from within? A funerary banquet? Like parasitoid wasp offspring devouring a caterpillar?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“All the caterpillars emerged from a central point and they filed out one by one. I guess I’d think hatching eggs would be less uniform. Also…it wasn’t like the corpse was being eaten. It just disintegrated. It became dust.”
“Good. Do you have any ideas about how such a thing could happen?”
