Hi all,
I wanted to give some writing updates for Parasites. Unfortunately, I have not been as productive as I had hoped this Summer, and will not have the book ready by September. Instead my hope is for a late November, early December release.
That said, please enjoy this excerpt of Chapter 2 of Parasites which is now available below to read at your convenience.
After signing up for a top secret military experiment that turned out to be just as bad as Hobbes feared, he now wakes with another presence in his mind. As different as Hobbes and creature that nestled on top of his brain stem are, they both have the same goal.
To somehow get out of this program alive…
Chapter 2
When I wake, I am not alone.
Neither can I move. The restraints are gone, but my muscles are paralyzed as if locked in a night terror.
Good, comes a voice in my mind. You’re awake.
“What are you,” I croak. My throat aches from all the screaming I did the last time I was conscious. “Why are you in my head?”
From my best understanding, you consented to this process. Unlike me, you had a choice.
“I didn’t know that I was agreeing to something crawling into my skull.”
I know, the thing pauses for a moment. Choice is a relative term. It seems you decided to join the program to save people you love. Shortsighted.
I feel something rattle inside my skull and my bile rises. Thankfully my stomach is empty so I don’t vomit.
This must be strange for you. It certainly is strange for me. But your stress levels seem to be dangerously high. Please try to calm down.
“I’ll be calm after I rip you out of my head,” I say, my voice echoing in the cavernous chamber. I’m in the same place where they conducted the “procedure.” My right eye is dark and I try not to think about what it might look like.
You do not need to shout to communicate with me, says the voice. I’m plugged into your brain. Just send a thought my way and I will understand. Hearing everything twice is tiresome.
What does it mean–
I mean that I hear your thoughts.
You mean like right now where I’m thinking about crushing you under the heel of my boot?
Unfortunately, yes. I had hoped to talk with you before the Doctor returns to tell you what their purpose for both of us is.
Do you have a different purpose?
I have a single purpose, my species is few. All of us from the same DNA of a forefather. Probably created synthetically, but I cannot confirm that hypothesis yet. As to your query, yes I have a different purpose than Dr. Vrick. My imperative is to survive.
Then you should have killed me.
The thought occurred to me. It would be a simple thing to stop integrating myself into your nervous system and instead start pulling out some of the wiring. But once I killed you Dr. Vrick would certainly kill me. My best chance at survival is to try and make this strange marriage work.
Incidentally Hobbes, it’s your best chance as well.
So are you going to control me? Puppet my voice like you did once you first burrowed into my skull?
No, you are not the tool. I am. They want you to master me for some purpose. That is mostly why I wanted us to talk before they got back.
But you’re burrowed into my brain? How can I force you to do anything?
I’m sure they’ll give you something to cause me pain. It seems to be the only way your species seems to know how to control anything.
I remain silent, my feelings on humanity were less than stellar at the moment, but I still didn’t want to condemn my entire species.
But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. Our relationship started a bit rocky. Still, to put it in your terms, I am looking for a ‘cease fire’ until we find out why they’ve combined our consciousnesses.
I want you out of my head.
That may be possible in the future, but certainly not yet. Try to understand that when I entered I did so because it was my only option for survival. Outside of a host body or the home fluid they suspended me inside, I would die in sixty seconds.
Understanding doesn’t make me like this situation any more. I’m not built for this, humans are not built for this. It’s unnatural.
Believe me, I’m aware. Getting around inside here is a nightmare, and your thoughts are an overwhelming cacophony. How you hold so many in your head at once is enough to make me want to bolt for an exit.
I doubt that would be a pleasant experience.
You would be right.
Is there a way to filter my thoughts? Maybe just talk to you when I feel like it instead of a constant stream of communication?
I could give you a mute button. I’m still integrating, but give me a second.
A twinge of pain twists in the back of my head, and the consciousness seems farther away.
Like a wall is slowly built, brick by brick between our consciousness. Until I am almost alone in my own mind.
Is that better?
Yes, as well as can be expected given that there’s still a bug coiled around my brain stem.
No need to go outside the parameters of my question. The switch is two way in case either of us needs to contact or mute the other.
I nod and my heart slows. There isn’t much pain other than a dull throb where my right eye used to be.
Maybe it’s a small progress but the longer I talk to this thing the less I feel the urge to vomit every time its consciousness rubs against mine, and the wall helps.
That is good progress.
I thought you weren’t listening right now?
Sorry, I just wanted to offer encouragement. Seems like the least I can do considering the circumstances.
I chuckle.
That’s the most absurd thing you’ve said since I woke up.
Why?
Because, never mind, you said you wanted to say something to me? That’s why you woke me?
Yes, I want you to understand that I am a thinking creature seeking survival. They are going to tell you I’m just an animal, or possibly a computer I’m not sure which. They want you to use me as a tool, I hope our relationship can be more of a partnership.
I take a moment to respond and a bit of the creature’s uncertainty brushes my mind. I see it is being plucked from a tank, placed in a tube and the life-giving liquid removed. The scramble towards me, my body, all that will keep it alive.
Well? Are you to make me a slave or a partner?
I want to stay alive. And I want you out of my head
I assume you want to be alive when I leave.
Obviously.
Then maximizing our survival is key to accomplishing your goal of, “ripping me out of your head and stepping on me until I am a multicolored stain on the ground.”
I exhale and close my good eye, it isn’t wrong.
What are you called?
I’ve been called QSX-202 by Dr. Vrick and his associates.
What were you called before?
There is no before. You should be able to move now.
I lift up my chin and look down. The restraints are still attached to my arms and legs, and a bone deep exhaustion pulls me towards sleep.
Something pulls on where my right eye used to be. The object feels cold on my skin, but protrudes a few inches from the cavity.
Implant. Meant in some way to maximize my processing power. Need more information.
I tense my arm trying to touch the implant. The restraints stop me and I grit my teeth.
Rest. We will get a few answers soon.
Their voice fades away as I fall asleep.
Nathan Buchholz 
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