"This is extremely weird. Why do they have goggles on?"
"Look, there's a little backpack here too."
As if swatting highly trained magical soldier bees like mere houseflies wasn't insulting enough, the three demon sisters knelt beside the twitching insects. Well, only two of them—Isra wasn't respected enough to join in. She simply tried to peek through the imposing frames of her ominous sisters, Haniya and Miraaj, who were having the time of their lives.
Never before had they seen anything like this—bees with army gadgets and metallic armor? Though they shared their malicious tendencies with Isra, Haniya and Miraaj played the long game. They were patient, knowing exactly when to tug at strings, snip them, or rip them out. Isra, by contrast, was like a walking bomb, impulsive and chaotic.
Sundays were their day of indulgence: no college, no responsibilities, and the freedom to laze around while ordering Isra and her nerdy best friend around like slaves. It was their favorite pastime.
"Can I see?" Isra groaned, trying in vain to get a better look. Being forced to imagine the whole scene while barely catching a glimpse was pure torment.
While the sisters were undeniably mischievous, they weren't entirely devoid of empathy. They felt emotions—when they weren't being overtaken by their insatiable curiosity. If they understood the gravity of what they were doing, they might have offered condolences. Maybe they would've even tried to save the bees.
Haniya poked one of the twitching insects with a stick, her curiosity at its peak.
"How... even—"
Before she could finish, Miraaj interrupted. "Wait, this one is limping."
*******
Among the seven defeated bees, one was still conscious. With a broken wing and leg, it dragged itself forward, inch by agonizing inch, toward the dark refuge beneath the television frame.
This was the same bee that had warned the commander to halt the attack. Now, its mission was clear: survive. If it could return to headquarters, it would report that not all of Nectar#1 was lost. Reinforcements could still be summoned. The bee's mantra was simple: Must. Live.
But before it could move another inch, two giant fingers lifted it gently by the tiny strap of its hanging backpack. Its heart pounded wildly as it found itself staring into the demonic grin of an enormous, hideous human.
"I won't hurt you, little bee. You're safe," the human said with an air of amusement.
"You're a psychopathic maniac! Just kill me already!" the bee buzzed angrily, knowing full well the human couldn't understand it. Still, venting felt good.
Ignoring the bee's struggles, the human yelled, her drool landing on it like raindrops.
"Ah… perfect!"
"Haniya! Bring me the mango juice from the table and a small bottle cap," she demanded.
Isra groaned loudly but obeyed. She didn't have a choice. No matter how cunning she tried to be, her sisters always one-upped her. Muttering angrily under her breath, she stomped off to fetch the items, shooting them a withering glare before walking away.
Soon, the three sisters stood on the terrace, gazing down at the tiny survivor, which now leaned weakly against the rim of the bottle cap filled with mango juice. In the bee world, juice was as valuable as currency. But this offering came from the enemy.
The bee stared at the enormous faces towering above it, confusion and trauma swirling in its mind. Still, its tiny legs moved closer to the cap. Guilt weighed on its heart, but survival came first.
After one cautious sip, the bee couldn't stop. Another sip. Then another. The sweetness dulled its mind. Two more sips wouldn't hurt. Maybe three. Before long, it submerged its tiny head in the juice, drinking with reckless abandon.
Eventually, it guzzled so much it toppled over, drunk and dazed, landing in a rose pot below as its world faded to black.
"Oh wow. It died," Haniya said flatly.
"That was one pathetic attempt," Miraaj muttered, earning a slap on the back from her sister.
Miraaj gave a sheepish grin. "Well, I tried."
"Isra, clean everything up before Ammi kills us," Haniya ordered.
Isra scowled but did what she was told, muttering curses under her breath.
And just like that, the day came to an end. The sun yawned and disappeared, leaving the sleepy off-white moon to watch over the world. Twilight dimmed into darkness, and most of the world drifted into slumber.
Not quite everything, though.
The drunk bee opened its eyes, its mission flashing back to life. There was still one soldier left of Nectar#1, and the job would be done—no matter what.