Each pound he did widened the crack. Soon the gap grew to the same size as his head, and the fly carefully maneuvered through it. Fresh air blew at him, a stark contrast to the stale air inside the cocoon. After his head went through, he pulled his legs out and placed it on the outer part of the shell.

'Cold,'

He pushed his body up and managed to bring two more legs out. A flimsy jump, and his 4 legs now were free.

Then his wings got stuck. The fly had opened the gap in a hurry, and there was not enough space for the wings. He first wriggled around, keen to get outside with his whole body. A sticky sensation flowed on his wings, and it became harder to move. The more he wriggled, the more of that liquid flowed on his wings.

The fly, or half-fly, half-Pupa, stopped and took a look at his surroundings. A faint light shone from above, and he could make out the distorted shine he saw on meat. His belly rumbled at the thought of meat. Staying inside the cocoon had starved him, and he desperatedly wanted to fill his stomach. The meat looked a tad more slimey though.

He tried to push his way out again, but felt his wings being pulled back. He felt a burning sensation of pain on the spot his wing was connected to, and cringed. He wasn't going to get out this way.

Thus the fly lay helplessly there, stuck at his cocoon, his belly starving with some meat only being mere metres away.