Bug Wars in Taiwan

So I was leaving my apartment today and accidently bumped into a winged dung-beetle-meets-cockroach kind of insect. Screaming, I ran inside to frantically pour cups of bleach onto it through the screen. I’m pretty certain this isn’t the best method of dealing with such an issue, but I’m adverse to touching it and Taiwan doesn’t let you own guns. Running out of bleach, I morbidly watched it as it flailed about and struggled to fly. Gazing at me, it gave me the look. Not the angry kind of look, it was past that. Rather it’s glance said that in the ensuing days, I should watch out, for it would call it’s brethren and they would descend upon me and my belongings in a bleach induced hysteria and eat me. Panicing, I waited for it to crawl out of sight before I rushed out of the house. Pushing the elevator button, I counted the seconds as the elevator slowly ascended, my thoughts distracted by a slithering, sliding sound I heard from someone floors below. On a normal day, I would assume that this was a person moving things, but today I knew that anything was possible. The dark  hall was lit only by the ominous green glow of an exit sign as I continued to listen to the slithering noise growing ever close. Finally, the elevator came. Throwing myself into the light interior of the elevator, I hoped that the bugs would be confused by my descent and I could escape to a place that had a decent, if not significant, supply of bug bombs.
You may think this extreme, but then-you see- it was very big. And could fly and hissed at me. As I write now, I still shake, not from fear, but from the jittery, shaky feeling you get from prolonged terror. Pure, undiluted terror that will only leave at a time when I can return home, wearing bleach bottles like armor and throwing in bug bomb grenades to face the horde that will have enveloped my house in the time I have spent in hiding here. But I’ll be ready, you’ll see.
You’ll see.