I kept sitting on my tower, not sleeping, not eating, not moving. The Collective flashed alternate realities behind my eyes in the form of waking dreams. We, my human master and I, had just unwittingly volunteered our services. It's hard to admit, but I offered a highly suggestible mind. My master would need some convincing. My surgical victory was but the beginning, an opening salvo a war I still do not understand.
I could sense great trepidation in my master. He saw the successes in my procedure, and also the failures. He worried Plato too old to endure the same. I sacrificed myself to keep his hope alive. I couldn't communicate with his directly at the time, but my actions served to perpetuate his. He needed to perform the procedure on Plato. Like I said, he needed convincing. I was going to have to be a little more 'direct', and the Collective would show me how.
Now you may want to hide the children, this part's messy.
My actions of the next night were not those of my own. If it seems another is narrating this volume, it's because I was much more than myself at that time. Give me a break. So I'm gullible when it comes to being controlled by universal entities not wholly understood. You try it and see what happens.
I sensed my master and Plato asleep in the bedroom, the door closed. Hurling myself off the tower with a dull thud, I slunk across the living room carpet to the bedroom door. Pressing a hairy ear to it, I heard the sounds of deep sleep; the quiet radio, the white noise of a humidifier, the snoring of my master, and the uncomfortable aged moans of Plato. My hands reached to the bronze doorknob and squeezed. They twisted gently. The door opened with a quiet pop. I did not enter, but looked around. I could always sense things around corners. I could always see in the dark. Now, my expanded mind had accentuated these ability.
I could now see around corners. I could see everything in the room in bright high definition. The perfect stalker.
I crept silently in and looked over the bed. He had left a bare patch next to him in hopes
I would come up and nestle him like I so often used to do…before. Slumber had suffocated the room. I slowly
crawled up the side of the bed. My hands gripped tight the sheets. I felt strong…too strong.
Once on the bed, I was told to slide the corner of
my mouth up the outside of his leg. As
soon as I started doing this I could feel his body relax further. He even stopped snoring. I had gained full control of my
glands, my minds told me. Only much later would I fully believe
that. I still didn’t trust my head’s new
intelligence. Only through consistency
of predictable action would that occur.
To this day, I trust only in my erratic nature.
My master lay prone, paralyzed flat on his back. I gently mounted his torso. His eyes snapped open, but his body did not move. I feared he could have, but stayed still out of curiosity…and terror. He looked down at me over his chin and
mouthed something to me I only later understood.
“Are you better?” He whispered.
I crawled up his chest. Something needed to be done. I still didn’t know what. My instinct and higher mind were engaged in
mortal combat. I could be up there to
smother him, or cut his throat.
Heh. Instead, I sat on his waving
chest and looked over his wide eyed face.
I used to be able to sense the fear in my prey and it drove me to
kill. I could sense an undetermined
emotion in him, something between horror and confusion. He was horrifused. Where have I heard that before?
I sat up on my hind legs on his thorax. I peered viciously into his trembling
eyes. His mood had shifted. Now it was straight horror. He tried to move but couldn’t. I did that…through chemistry…and
perception. Slowly lowering myself above
his face, I placed my hands on his forehead right below his receding
hairline. He was sweating, so I
protracted my claws delicately onto his scalp to gain traction.
Looking straight through the back of his dark blue eyes, I spoke. My mind spoke directly to his without saying
a word.
I am better. I
thought, knowing instantly he understood.
Aaaaaaa! Was all his mind conveyed in its hysterical
state.
You changed me. Then
I changed.
Aaaaaaaaaaa!
Now I’m going to change you…and then you’ll change.
I’m gonna
die.
I could feel saliva build up in my mouth. I could see my pupils explode into rancorous black holes. Then I realized I could not
control the urge to kill, but I could overwhelm it with sapient Collective restraint.
How could I know what I would do next? I was instructed. Two histories of different species were
comingling in my brain, brought together with the ability to articulate an
opposable thumb. Keeping one hand on my
master’s dripping brow, I brought the other down to his mouth. I stuck a claw in his bearded chin and drew
his lower jaw down. The hooked metal
claw of my forefinger reached into his silently screaming mouth and buried
itself in the back of his tongue.
I eased the claw up, slicing a narrow trough in the middle
of tongue. Blood began to flow into the
back of his throat. With me still
compressing his ribcage, he couldn’t cough.
He had to swallow. I needed him
to swallow.
Placing my elbow on his chin to keep his gurgling mouth open,
I drew my free hand to my own mouth. I
had just lost my right upper fang and the gum and ligaments were still raw and
exposed. I drew my claw back further and
plunged it into the swollen root cavity.
Blood gushed from the tooth socket, mixing with my saliva. I could not hold back any further.
The vile mixture frothed from my mouth and into his. Still, he could not cough. We needed him to swallow. His mouth was beginning to fill with saliva
diluted blood. He was afraid to imbibe
the foul concoction. It began to stream
over the corners of his mouth. Still, I
could feel the desired effect. His
tongue was absorbing what his throat would not.
Drink.
F***. No. I’m sorry.
I don’t understand.
Drink. Then you will.
Why? What the f***…
You changed me, then I changed. Now I’m changing you, then you will
change. Drink!
Gulp! Oh, Jesus! My tongue!
I removed my hand from his forehead and slid off the side of
his chest. There I sat, between his
chest and arm, and watched. Externally
and internally, I watched for the change.
My vision blurred. My mind
tremored. The load had been shared, but
the product was without calibration. I
closed my eyes, then I saw it. I saw the
dark stucco, vaulted ceiling with closed blinds on the sky lights…through his
eyes. The image darted back and forth,
trembling under fear’s command. His eyes
couldn’t blink. Bright electrons danced
in his periphery, going out of focus before they got to me. He had given me wisdom and reason through the
hands, and much more through his mind.
The Collective had given me will and instruction to do what was necessary. Not until much later would I realize, we had taken something quite
crucial from his…judgement.
What the f*** did you do to me? What the f*** is happening!?
My eyes still closed, I slithered down the side of his
paralyzed body, wanting to make sure I could escape when I released him. I positioned my back feet and tail over the
end of the bed and lowered my mouth onto his shin. Teeth drawn, I cautioned him…
This is all your fault.
Don’t take it out on me. I’m just
an animal.
I just want to know what the f*** is going on.
Relax. I’m about to
set you free.
Okay. Relax. F*** you.
Is this how you always talk?
Not exactly. I’m just
a little f***ing freaked out right now!
Shhh. Relax. And I poked three fangs into my master’s
skin. A nice shot of adrenaline
perfectly dosed. His muscles twitched to
life, but he didn’t panic. I jumped off
the side of the bed, crawled under it, eyes
still closed, and wedged myself deep between a storage crate and a pile of dirty
laundry.
My master sat up carefully, checking the room for spirits
and his mind for sanity. He was still
metabolizing our mixed blood and saliva as he reached over the side of the
bed. I cowered to the other side, still not
sure of his intentions, or mine for that matter. Finally, I opened my eyes, not only to see
what his hand was reaching for, but to blind him with my sight. I soon as I did, the connection took violent
hold.
“Oh-glgh, Ghlgh-od!” He gurgled, his thoughts screaming
clearly, Oh, God! He grabbed a dirty
black sock and shoved it into his mouth to prevent choking on our blood.
I had no idea this was going to happen.
You have ideas?
My ideas came from your idea. You gave me that ability. The idea of ideas. How they’re formed. Where they come from. How they’re used. What they’re used for. I should have held onto that though more
vehemently. I might have helped us
figure all this shit out. And all our ideas, from the now back to 'the first made thing' in the universe, come from the Collective. We are both its servants. You must perform the procedure on Plato. He must be brought in.
You just said that...?
I thought so...
Now do as I command, I'm being possessed by a book.
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