Francesco De la Muerta was a calm fly. He enjoyed flying and buzzing around his little jar, nibbling on the bits of honey which were dropped in once a day.

Francesco didn't do much besides this. He was, in fact, a fly, and flies don't do much of anything.

One day, however, something new happened. When a bit of honey was dropped in his jar, the lid didn't go back!

Still, Francesco ate his honey, and buzzed around his jar.

But what could be out there, in the big wide world? Francesco was getting curious.

Is it big, is it scary? Francesco was getting nervous.

But then Francesco realized flies don't get nervous. Or curious. He was, in fact, a fly.

So he left, and followed the smells that were pleasing to him.

He found a flower. It had little bits of pollen stuck to it. Yellow, sticky, but not tasty like honey.

He found a trash can. Brown, black, and white, and it smelled nice, but not tasty like honey.

Then he found a rotting corpse. Red, yellow, and sweet! This was his new favorite.

So Francesco licked the goop that came out of the corpse. He was now a satisfied fly.

Day after day, Francesco tried a new flavor. The eyeballs were particularly juicy.

On Friday, not that Francesco knew it was Friday, Francesco went to see what the torso would taste like.

But what is this? A bright red light? Francesco couldn't see it, being a fly, but he had just landed in a strange shape. A circle with a star in the middle. What could this be?

Then the Pentagram activated, fueled by the little bits and pieces of honey, pollen, garbage, and decaying human flesh covering Francesco.

Francesco now knew.

The world would now bow to The Free Man of Death. For his mind has been freed and ascended to the higher planes. Mortals would perish at the thought of his glory!

So Francesco flew off, searching for food and mortals.

Imagine his surprise when suddenly he was in the presence of an immortal!

"I have been summoned to this plane by an ancient ritual," it said. "Fear me, and make your request known!"

Francesco didn't want to speak to this thing. So he ate it.

"What are you doing, tiny creature?" it bellowed. "I shall smite thee for... this... what... what are you doing?!"

Francesco continued devouring the soul of this pitiful being. It tasted like ham. Francesco now knew that was the name of the garbage he had eaten.

The creature screamed as Francesco licked his lips, satisfied with a healthy meal.

So Francesco buzzed off, happy with the void in his heart being somewhat less empty. Now to find a mortal to serve him.

As Francesco rounded a corner, a bright light hurt his many eyes. Such power! This one would be perfect.

So Francesco let out a signal of invitation.

But what is this? The signal was destroyed! How rude. This mortal will pay with his life!

Then, before Francesco could utter one word of eldritch terror, the light became brighter, and Francesco was no more.

As it turns out, this mortal would, indeed, hurt a fly. If said fly were containing the soul of a dark being of terrible power, and consumed an innocent's flesh.