The grey bug burrowed deep into its host’s chest. Crawled and scratched and ate its way down to her heart and the heart stopped. The bug, simple as it was, could simply not comprehend what had happened; what was once a very lively source of heat and joy now lay dead in its arms. So it kept digging. It was in love, plain and simple. It dug until its claws and teeth had worn down to nothingness and then it waited until they grew back and it dug again; through bone, out her back. She was just not there anymore.