A doctor of entomology who loves bugs is investigated for the death of his parents. That's when strange things begin to evolve for the good doctor and the investigation lead, Detective Jones.
“They are not there.” Dr. Alistair said out loud to himself. “It is not there. There are no fires.” Orange lights were appearing on his desk intermittently. “There is no way that the fires are real.” He continued to write his notes on the next lecture. So far the page contained a single line. “The psychological nature of insects is dependent on first Order and Family and then the needs of the Species.” His eyes were wondering around the office again. “There are no flames. Just write the lecture plan.” His hands began to scribble away as fast as possible. “Many insect families must feed on the bodies of another and are predatory in nature. They paralyze the insect for their eggs to be placed inside the host insect. The most common example of this would be the…” a tiny fire formed on the line where the words Apocrita Suborder were going to be written.
“Your research is the damnation of modern society. No one wants bugs inhabiting the same space they live. They are filth, they must be destroyed.”
“Heh. You are not real. You are dead. You cannot comment on my life anymore.” His hands began to shake. “The bugs are more effective at what they do then anything you could ever accomplish. You will be in the ground soon. I will see to that.” His right hand gripped the pencil like it was a life line in the ocean. “You will be EATEN BY THE WORMS! DO YOU HEAR ME?!” His hand swept his desk and clattered his possessions to the ground. His laugh echoed in his office as he addressed the open air. “You will ROT IN THE EARTH and be the BREEDING ground OF FLIES!”