Please enjoy this sneak peak of Chapter 1 of Parasites! Coming September 2026!
The black hood I’ve worn for the past few hours is pulled off my face. I squint as my eyes adjust to the harsh light. The two men who escorted me down here loom near the door, barring the exit.
“Raymond Hobbes?” a woman behind a white desk asks, making a few marks on the paperwork spread out in front of her.
“Yes Ma’am,” I say, scanning the room. There are no windows, just white walls, and two fluorescent white lights buzz overhead. My eyes take a moment to adjust, pulling the woman in front of me into clearer vision.
She looks up from her paperwork and points to the scale in the corner of the room.
“I need vitals, strip and hop on the scale.”
“My weight should already be in my file.”
“Now Hobbes,” she says, making another mark.
I pull off my t-shirt, take off my boots and fatigues and walk over to step on the scale. She notes the tally, fixes the height meter, and crosses out something on her notepad.
Must have been a mistake.
“Step down,” she says, wrapping a blood pressure monitor around my arm. The door opens and both my escorts exit. I crane my head to look, catching a glimpse of a long white hallway.
“Where am I?” I say.
“You’re where you signed up to be,” says the woman keeping her eye on the blood pressure numbers. After a beep, she removes the strap and points to a chair. “I need you to sit here.”
She pulls out a cup that holds a blue mixture. Using a wooden stick, she stirs it and leans towards me.
The stuff is cold, and I flinch from its touch.
“It’s just an adhesive,” she mutters. “This isn’t the part you need to worry about.”
“What should I be worried about?”
She goes silent and I frown.
I don’t know what I expected. My escorts came in the middle of the night, put me on a four hour train ride, and then blindfolded me for thirty minute trip in the elevator. After that, we took a series of seemingly random turns to deposit me here in this tiny room.
Hard to think they’d spend so much effort disguising where we were if whatever was about to happen would be pleasant.
I bounce my knee until the worry about what I signed up for subsides from overwhelming panic to an pleasant drone.
The adhesive is cold on my chest and my shoulders break out into goosebumps. The blue goop goes on both my arms, two spots on my legs, and four on my chest. A few pieces of medical tape hold wires close to my skin.
The woman fastens tape to the hair on my legs, and I grimace. It’s going to hurt to pull that off.
“One more thing,” says the woman sliding a paper towards me.
The top of the page says “This is the Last Will and Testament.”
My mouth goes dry and I swallow. I knew this program was looking for lab rats, I guess they thought it best if those lab rats didn’t have access to things like ‘human rights’.
So people like me.
The woman clicks her pen, and holds it out to me.
“This is just a precaution right?”
“Mhmmm,” the woman cannot meet my eyes.
I look behind me to the closed white door. There’s no going back now, I sign my name and the woman takes the paper back. She walks through the door and leaves me alone, silent except for the whine of the fluorescent lights.
My hands shake.
Being here was my choice. A fairly simple one at that, because about two weeks ago I got a call from my Grandmother.
I was out of basic for about a month or so. New laws after the war with Xeno made it easy for folks to enlist fast, so I did, mostly for the money. Dad was a vet and got bit of money from his days in service, but not enough, and Grandma was 85.
And if I enlisted then Grandma wouldn’t have to work. Wasn’t a terribly tough decision.
When I got out of basic training, I finally got a phone call home.
For some reason Grandma had the damn phone on speaker. I pushed the phone hard enough into my ear to leave a red mark when I was done to try to make sense of the garbled words. The conversation was wrapping up, when I finally understood something she said.
“ Had to move some of your things to the dump, me and your Father will be leaving the trailer soon.”
“I’m sorry what?” They had lived in that home for decades.
“Well, me and your Father, we’re gonna have to move out soon, end of the month I think. It’s my fault, I couldn’t find a job in time to save it.”
“Slow down,” I checked my time, there was less than a minute left on my clock before I would have to get off the phone. “What do you mean you couldn’t find a job in time to save it? My salary should have been more than enough for the rent?”
“I don’t want you to worry about it–”
“Too late,” I said, clenching my teeth. “What happened?”
“Your Father’s payout was less than we hoped, they said something about him not finding any work, and the rent went up so we just didn’t have enough.”
Dad hadn’t worked in years. I had wondered why until I was eight, then I saw one of his episodes and stopped wondering.
“How much are you short?”
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. We both made it out of Houston when Xeno first showed up, can’t be any worse than that.”
“That was when you were thirty years younger and Dad wasn’t set off by someone turning on their car engine,” I murmured low enough lost in garbled static.
“What was that honey?”
“How much are you short Grandma,” I said, checking my time. Thirty seconds ticked down, moving to fast, I had to know how much they needed.
“Two thousand five hundred dollars,” said Dad, his baritone cutting through the static.
I put the phone receiver on my chest, looked up, and yelled. “Fuck me.”
The CO running the phones gave me a look that could melt six inches of Xenosteel, and I raised my hand in apology.
“Fifteen seconds Hobbes,” he barked at me.
I put the phone back to my ear.
“–We really will be ok,” Grandma said, and for a second I believed her, but only for a second.
“Don’t move anything else, I don’t want you lifting anything. I’ll get the money–”
“Boy, how the hell do you think you’re gonna pull twenty five hundred dollars out of your ass,” said Dad. I winced at his raised voice.
Five seconds left.
“I just will, don’t leave the trailer alone so they can’t–”
The receiver clicked and I saw my time was up. The CO in the corner grinned and I turned away so he couldn’t see me roll my eyes.
I walked back to my bunk and lay back covering my face with my hands.
Where was I going to find over two thousand dollars?
Four days later I stood outside of the conference hall where the majority of the military’s “death by powerpoint” took place. My teeth ached and a tension migraine pounded on my temples. The day before, I noticed a flier outside of the barracks that had mentioned a mandatory meeting about some R&D program that needed human volunteers.
The brochure had mentioned extra pay. It didn’t give a dollar amount of course, that would be to easy. All it said was the payment was “flexible” whatever that meant.
I was up all night, and hadn’t eaten that morning. My stomach did somersaults whenever I thought about this program. One other guy I knew early on in basic had signed up for something similar, thinking it could get him some extra cash. I hadn’t seen him since.
But, my options were limited. If I was in the Denver Residential Zone, maybe a quick robbery of the local hospital would have worked. If I got my hands on some morphine I certainly would be able to cover the costs of two thousand dollars, but I wasn’t in the zone, I was on a military base.
The military medical center had more security, and if I got caught, well I’d be dead and then I wouldn’t be a help to either of them.
The thought of Grandma sleeping in the rain under one of the train overpasses in our zone couldn’t happen. They couldn’t stay at a shelter because of Dad, and out on the street it was just the police who would respond to his outbursts.
Yeah that’s what would happen, Dad would end up in some prison closer to the plains zone, and Grandma, well, she would probably be dead within a year. They needed to keep their home, so I had to find a way.
And this might be the way out, regardless of what lab rat duties I had to perform.
A CO walked over and unlocked the doors. I sat down, and rubbed my temples.
The hall filled up fast, a few bustling conversations stopped at once when one of the CO’s bellowed for silence.
Two people stood at the front. On the right was a six foot tall, dark haired, black man in a suit. To his left a smaller white woman with a clipboard in her hands. The man smiled and stepped forward.
“Good morning,” he said with practiced projection. “Congratulations on completing your basic training, my name is Stanley Vrick and I am here to offer you another opportunity to serve Earth here and abroad.”
The room was silent. These idiots never understood that we weren’t here because of some high minded belief in protecting humanity. Xeno was gone, we weren’t protecting anyone. Mostly, all I, and all but the most deluded around me wanted, was to get out of our residential zones and maybe, just maybe find a better life.
“I am here on behalf of the Symbiote program, the latest in cutting edge military technology, to ensure that earth is never taken by surprise again. To help explain the program, please direct your attention to the screen for a short video from our founder.”
The room went dark and the screen lit up. Standing there was Elizabeth Stienen-Cross, founder of Voidshield Pharmaceuticals and probably the most powerful person on the planet. Some bullshit inspirational music was overdubbed, edited to swell when she grinned.
“When humanity was pushed to the brink by the Xeno invaders, only one thing saved us. Our innovation, the human spirit that created the Xenoflu which turned back the attackers.”
My knee shook, they blocked an hour of time for the presentation, and I hoped I didn’t have to wait that long before I saw whether or not they paid enough to save my family from eviction, or worse.
“I come to you today, with an opportunity. A chance to be on the cutting edge of humanity’s next great step forward. The public private partnership of Voidshield’s ingenuity and the military’s strength will help us to take steps not just to help humanity remain safe from extra planetary threats, but maybe even journey to far off worlds.”
I should have rolled my eyes at the next swell of music and change of backdrop. Instead I smiled thinking about watching the stars with my Grandma. Stienen-Cross stood in front of some screen shot of the milky way when she spoke again. “Project Symbiote is the lynchpin to our success. After rigorous animal trials, we are ready for human subjects to help us crack the code to a bright future. We hope that you will join us in forging our destiny amongst the stars.”
The screen went dark and the lights came back on. At the very least the video was short.
Dr. Vrick stepped back up to the podium. “This program is of utmost importance to the security of our planet. Join me and my assistant over here to get the paperwork you need to join.”
After a moment of silence he said, “Well that’s all we’ve got.”
The rest of the room emptied until I was alone.
I walked up to the desk and the woman smiled at me.
“Do we have a taker?” said Dr. Vrick his expression brightening a bit.
“The flier said compensation, like financially,” I said. Dr. Vrick nodded at me. I took a breath and said. “How much?”
Vrick looked at the woman with the paperwork and gave a small grin. “How much do you want?”
I closed my eyes. The number of twenty five hundred has been the only thing on my mind for days. It took real willpower not to just blurt out the amount as soon as he asked.
But no, I had to think, that would just pay this month’s rent, something that would give Dad and Grandma some breathing room. I needed something more long term.
“Today please,” said Vrick his eyes tightening.
I leaned in and whispered, “Five Thousand.”
“Five thousand what?”
“Dollars,” I said. “Straight to my family, I’ll give you their names and I’ll sign whatever you need me to.”
Vrick smiled and pushed the contract agreement forward. “Sign here, we’ll be back tonight for extraction.”
I signed the paper, and slept through the night for the first time since my call home.
I lose track of time waiting in that white room. Every time I think I hear footsteps coming closer, they turn and clack further down the hall. I guess they’re not in a hurry, at least not for my sake.
The cold chamber seeps into my bones until my teeth are chattering and I bend my spine into the fetal position. They took my fatigues with the papers leaving me exposed in nothing more than a medical gown and the set of electrodes dotted across my body. I did sign up to be a lab rat after all, I just didn’t expect it to be so literal.
Today is the day Dad and Grandma are set to be evicted. I pray that the money gets to them in time. I haven’t been able to contact them after I signed up for the program, was in the contract. Any outside contact would void the money and probably send me headfirst into a court martial.
None of those were great options, so I opted for option three. Keeping my damn mouth shut.
The control panel beeps the other side of the door and the adrenaline prods me out of the fetal position. I clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. Through the door walks Dr. Vrick and two sour looking men in fatigues, they were different from the ones who escorted me here, and they had surgical masks over their faces.
“Hobbes,” says Vrick adjusting his glasses. “We are ready for you.”
I stand up and shuffle towards the door, being mindful of the wires adhered to my body. The two men watch me like an anxious dog, hands drifting by their sidearms.
“I’m sure you know that any attempt to leave at this point would be frowned upon,” Vrick says as we walk down the hallway.
“Understood, sir.”
Down the hallway, a gurney is being run from two large doors into a passage to my right. Two people in labcoats one with their mask on, the other with it dangling from their chin push the contraption. On the gurney, is a shape with it’s face covered by a red stained white linen.
A hand dangle out below the sheet line.
What have I gotten myself into?
“Double doors there,” Dr. Vrick says. “And good luck.”
If I try to respond, I am going to vomit all over his nice white coat.
The doors open and I walk inside. The woman from the white room is there with a surgical mask stapped tightly to her face. Two other people are there with their long white coats and heavy black gloves. They are not what stops my heart.
In the center of the room is a chair. Medical restraints for the arms and legs hang off the sleek metal. The headrest extends a full two feet above what any normal sized person would need. A metal helmet sits above the headrest, with an arm that can be adjusted to move over the face. At the end of the arm there is a small eye shaped hole which completes the apparatus.
“Sit,” says the woman who I assume is the lead of the project. I hesitate and look for an exit, there is none except the one behind me with the two scowling soldiers. There’s not a way out. The lead nurse sighs. “You can sit, or we can put you in the seat. I’ll let you decide what you want.”
I have no doubt they can cancel the payments to my family if I fail to uphold my part of the contract. The image of Dad on the street is enough to get me to sit down on the chair. The metal is cold, but my skin adjusts to the temperature. The soldiers click the restraints over my ankles and the medical personnel attach the cuffs to my wrists. Above me looms the metal arm with the hole in it, one that looks just big enough for my right eye.
The woman wraps a belt across my chest.
“Just for my protection right,” I say, I must sound like I’m begging.
“Don’t talk please,” she says, attaching another belt across my belly. “It will make this easier.”
My legs shake and make the restraints clink on the steel chair.
Without warning the seat tips back, putting me parallel to the ground. Someone is pulling on my hair, pulling it apart and attaching electrodes. I lose count of how many they attach to my scalp.
I tense at my restraints.
“Please don’t move,” one of them says. He pulls the helmet and metal arm down from above the headrest. It fits snugly over my scalp and the hole at the end of the metal arm frames my right eye like a target.
The helmet clicks and there is a pressure on both sides of my head.
“I can’t move,” I say. No one responds to me. “Why can’t I move my head?”
“Please try to stay calm Hobbes,” Dr. Vrick says over the intercom. “Higher stress levels are more likely to result in project failure.”
What is the project?
“Deep breathes Hobbes, it will regulate your heartbeat, reduce stress, that’s what we want.”
Above me a hatch in the ceiling opens. A long black tube about six feet long is lowered down by a mechanical arm. The first three feet of the tube are hollow and clear, but the three feet above it are murky with some kind of black water held within.
Something moves in the liquid.
I scream and thrash but the restraints hold me tight.
“Is the subject secure?” says Dr. Vrick.
“Secure,” comes the voice of a woman.
“Then let’s get this over with, finish the sealing process.”
The arm lowers closer and closer until the transparent tube is inches from my eye. The inside of the clear tube has the threading of a screw.
A pair of tiny red eyes look at me from the murky water above through the barrier between the empty and filled part of the cylinder.
“I did not sign up for this, I did not sign up for this,” I yell as the woman screws the threaded section over the hole in the metal arm over my eye.
My heart pounds so hard I worry it will break my ribs. Sweat drips into my eyes and I feel a warmth in my pants.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please let me go, please.”
With a click the apparatus locks into place above me. Small legs press up against the divider, too many legs to count.
“Please don’t let it out,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Sealing process complete, fluid removal in process.”
The murky water retracts, and the thing inside twists and twitches. It tries to stay in the fluid as long as it can, but soon all the liquid is gone.
The thing thrashes like a drowning man.
“Sixty seconds of time outside the fluid,” says Dr. Vrick.. “Is the subject ready?”
For a single sick moment, I think the doctor is talking to me.
“Ready.”
“Begin infestation.”
The creature pounds on the small divider between where it was and the passage that leads directly to my eye.
I try to wrench my head out of the helmet one last time but am still held fast by the restraints. With a click, the door dividing me from the monster opens.
The creature does not fall like I expect. Instead it clings to the side of the tube taking steps down along the fiberglass. My eye is held open, as I see it walk closer and closer, hearing every single one of its legs click with each step.
The closer it gets I try to hold a picture of Dad and Grandma in my mind. I hope they are ok, and they never hear about how I die.
It stops, it’s two red eyes looking at my one. Its mandibles grind together, and I feel a bit of liquid seep into my eye.
“Please,” I whisper.
Its jaws open and it jumps towards me. I don’t see what happens next.
But I do feel it.
My back arches and a scream is ripped from my throat.
It’s not stopping at my eye, instead it’s going farther, boring inside. Its legs click on my orbital bone and it coils inside my head eating away at a thousand screaming nerve endings.
I cannot understand how I am still alive.
“QSX-202 have you shut down the denial response and reduced shock?”
The pain starts to abate, but the thing is in my brain. I feel it’s body contract and expand inside my skull.
Like it’s breathing.
“Get out of my head,” I scream.
“QSX-202, have you shut down the denial response and reduced shock to acceptable levels?”
Dr. Vrick speaks as if he was simply frustrated his employee didn’t bring him the right kind of coffee.
I feel my mouth open but not because I want it too, something else is controlling what my speech.
And that other, that horror in my head says. “Denial response shut down, shock level reduced to acceptable levels. Putting the subject to sleep now.”
Like a key turning in my brain, I black out.
Nathan Buchholz 