Dean(ish)

Then the grasshoppers jumped to the brick frame, but this was not the frame they’d dreamed it to be. No, this frame was made up of something altogether different and rather foreign to the grasshoppers. It was made entirely of the finest high-sulfur polycarbonate Chinese brick ever known to insect-kind. They travelled along the frame, inspecting every crevice and crevasse along the way, until the group turned around to observe their faithful and beloved leader burst into yellowed-orange flames.

On witnessing this most distressing of events, the majority of the grasshopper clan began to incinerate with their leader. It was only a matter of time until the small grasshoppers realized that they were lead into a trap. What they thought would be their salvation ended up being their doom; they were now kebabs in the Johnson family barbecue.

The leader soon realized that he was still living, despite his spicy state, and in stark contrast to his comrades who were dead, suffering, and dying all about him. He also became aware that he could exert a sort of control over the flames, directing and focusing them almost as if wielding a crudely shaped weapon. He gathered and concentrated his thermal energy waves to a single point — the flames just below him — creating a small explosion of heat and flame that sent him into the air like an angel to Heaven.

Several hundred feet in the air, the leader’s ascent began to abate when he realized that he could not control his thermal energy any longer. He spread his wings and flew to the only other space seemingly available to him in his predicament - the subdimensions that exist betwixt the very currents of the air, small pockets of anti-reality that for some hold the key to immortality… but, for others, simply cause a fracture in the illusion of sanity they cling to with every passing moment. He is aware of the peril he faces and holds his breath as he remembers what the færy Queen had told him the day prior: ‘Yours is a gift of endless uncertainty. Choose wisely, as your life will come to write the history of the future.’

His descent to the ground would spell certain doom, and he would not be able to escape the bee swarms that he could hear approaching from all sides. He began to rub his wings together to sing the spell which the Rasselbock had taught him long ago, before things like tribal leadership, defensive strategy, or even simple companionship were concepts he could even comprehend. With an effort he quieted his mind, slowed his heartbeat and the soft flutter of his breathing to just shy of nothingness. Around him the fabric of reality began to warmly pulsate in an almost electric fashion, and he became aware of the gift that the Queen spoke of.

As the bees drew nearer, the grasshopper leader took one last breath and vanished.