I posted this on Chatter box and asked Dano if this would be okay here. He said yes, so if it isn't, blame him. Him! He did it! He forced me by remote telempathoboby, officer!

I've also decided to be particularly vexing by posting it in three sections. Just because I can.

Warning: Naked man running around on a farm
___

I can mold my flesh.

All my kind has the ability. It has allowed us to conquer world after world by assimilating each race's unique strengths and attributes. We are a vicious race. We cannot reproduce without a host impelling us to spread further and further into the stars as each of the worlds we rule is eaten up by our corruption.

Our corruption. Our divine right. Our unquestioned majesty.

Our demise is imminent. I can feel it's presence sting. I fear it as my whole race fears. But it has taken strange form in me. I have a conceit.

I am different from my brothers. I watch. I watch them and myself. I know, I am aware. I see the fear. It is strong in all of us. It is our strength and it destroys our strength.

My brothers feel fear along side a rush of animistic pleasure and repulsion as they discharge their duty, impregnating each race with sterile replicas of themselves. I do too, but now, in all of our unconscious, compelled history, I feel other things.

Among the race I now rule I am called "the Horror". I command many millions of followers, each a clone of the last, their genes even more sterile then my own. They possess an unquestioned and unexamined desire to dispense pain and suffering on my command. I will and they obey, devastating and destroying like a lethal rain. Tearing into the flesh of these small, soft creatures with hard, sharp and agile power.

I believe I have ruled other races in a similar manner, through the abject terror of dark, deadly things creeping in the night. I can't recall because my memories are not coherent. More impressions. Dark, visceral impulses and the occasional bright flash of intense pleasure as I discharge my duty.

This race... with it's evocative, quivering beauty, strangely acquired and inefficient bodies, almost poetic in their vulnerable, improbable forms... it has awakened me. I have discovered new sensations. I feel their rage against me, the impossible, undefeatable might that I wield. I feel them throw themselves against my army, their bodies shredded by their own defiance. I know that I have never met such resistance, such determined, futile resistance. Even in races twenty times stronger, there was less fury against the inevitable.

Again and again I see them conquer their own fear and defy us. We cannot give up the last shreds of our physical beings. We fear our end so deeply. And these frail creatures do not.

WHY?

I hide myself now from my brothers. Although we can mold our flesh, we seldom change from the forms our Father fettered us to. I have grown tormented in my solitude because I am disobeying His imperatives. But even stronger is my desire to understand why. How can I understand why when they flee from me in terror? When they shirk at my hard, sharp touch that rends their delicate bodies even in gentleness.

As I lie alone, far away from my army and my slaves, I feel strongly the agony of indecision, of confusion... the agony of fighting oneself.

The act of implanting a replica of myself, now invariably sterile, within a host is an outwardly horrifying act. Blood is shed, tissues are pulverized, pain is dealt. The host struggles against me, the inevitability of my force. In this race restraints are used because they will damage themselves more fighting me. Although the act is unavoidable they will batter their own bodies against mine until the injuries kill them.

Some are more compliant, merely sobbing and moaning as they receive. Vomiting and clutching at their bellies as the fetus burrows in, attaches to a nutrient rich source. It will soon secrete a chemical, quickening the healing process and dulling the pain. The whole event will not kill them, the host is more useful if it can be used multiple times, but they still suffer.

Other races accept our dominance, falling under it as if it was always meant to be. An inevitable dance of dominance and subjugation.

There is no such feeling of rightness in this.

As they battle me, I see their suffering. I see it in their worthless, blind eyes, I feel it in the trembling of their flesh, I smell their fear, sharp metallic bright edged fear. Before such sensations would invigorate me, I would receive a jolt of ecstasy from deep within my being. A sweet intoxication that erased all doubt. Now that feeling is hollow. It does not satisfy me, because when I see this race, even in the throes of terror, I know that I do not rule them. I can force their bodies to do my bidding, but I cannot posses that thing which... which I cannot explain.

My awareness tears into me. It is as compassionless as I have been. It shows me the pain I have dealt, my unconscious addiction to power, it makes me see over and over again the countless lives I have destroyed in my fear.

As my mind torments me, I slowly change my body. I know every inch of my slaves, know their physical beings from an atomic level. I can easily replicate it. The pain is what slows me down.

I am high up in a sheltered cove. Far from the temple where I, the Horror, reside and receive my hosts. As I form, I am aware of more and more discomfort. The rock is harsh against my skin, the light hurts my eyes, the cold penetrates deeply. When it is complete I stand.

My body is perfect and I have molded the perfect nervous system. I have no difficulty with movement, although I am now severely limited. To ease the transition from efficient, ideal form to acquired, vulnerable flesh, I made some improvements in strength and agility. Not enough to arouse suspicion.

I told myself as I touched my flesh, that it would only be a few days.

I had no words to compare my form with others of it's kind. I did not know if it was big, small, dark, light... I reasoned that the vocabulary would come soon enough.

My dulled senses registered a searing hiss. I swung around.

Brother.

He had approached, undetected, and was now inches from my weakened form. Improbably strong fear exploded within me. I scrabbled back a step and fell against rock.

What have you done?

Brother extended a probe, sensing me, sensing through me. He knew it was one of his, the scent of my former self still lingered. I cringed as it hovered close. Knowing it could slice me to ribbons with the barest whisper of motion, acutely aware of my sudden mortality.

I want to understand.

I turned away from it, closing my eyes. He could not hurt me because I was Brother. But I could feel his desire to do so. It lashed against the command of Father not to harm Brother.

REPULSION!

His probe lunged at me and I fell back, scraping against the rock. I felt his fury and he felt my terror.

I crouched, tense and still, in the moment between choice and action.

I would know death if he chose it.

Instead he slid away, moving swiftly over the rock. In the end he could not violate Father's imperative.

I watched him leave, a dark shadow clinging to the gray rock. My whole body was shuddering, I could feel my pulse in my jaw, feel the heart in my chest slamming against my ribs. Suddenly terrified of what I had become, I recoiled and fell back into the cove. I had instinctively begun the retransformation when I forcefully stopped myself and, shaking, stood up again.

If I was to understand, then I had to face the world through their eyes.

And I had to understand why.

I swallowed hard, stilling my heart with a force of will, and began my decent into the forest.

Movement was slow and confined. I felt like bursting from my prison. The limitations of this form infuriated me. At one point I launched myself off a too high height and fell hard on my flimsy legs. The pain was so intense I knelt and vomited into the dust. The sensation of vomiting disturbed me. I wiped my jaw and spat out the taste. I looked at my legs, the soles were bloody with scrapes, and one of my ankles burned deep within . Damaged.

I could create the form, but once in the form, it's repair was impossible. Through my own carelessness I had limited myself even more.

I stood again and resumed my travel, now half as fast and with a limp. The pain receded eventually and I believed the injury to be fading.

In the woods I rested by a river. I submerged a hand, the water cooled the stinging scrapes on my fingers. I decided to do the same with my ankle. And then I drank as I had seen my slaves do.

As I sat with my foot in the stream, my leg tickled by the soft blades of grass, I felt a sensation in my stomach similar to the feeling I felt before vomiting. I wiped my mouth, suddenly frightened of reliving the experience. I did not become sick, instead my innards grumbled.

Hunger, said some instinctive part of me. Food.

I had some idea of what my slaves ate, but I did not know how they procured it for themselves.

I drank again, the water filled my empty stomach somewhat, and moved on.

My body grew increasingly more difficult to manage as the day wore on. My ankle began a relentless ache that traveled up into my knee, and my muscles quivered with exhaustion.

When I reached a town at the base of the mountain, a town I had slipped past the day before on my way up, darkness was falling. I felt a sudden terror. It became impossibly hard to step within it's boundaries. I did not know how I would look to them, and in my vulnerable form, that mattered greatly.

I reasoned if they got threatening I could try to flee. Even wounded I should be able to run faster then they. But I had no ability to fight in this form. I was helpless.

Steeling myself I walked up to the first dwelling structure in the town.

I heard a screech. My muscles tensed as I turned, crouching instinctively. All I saw was a flash of fabric as something disappeared into the structure. I stared after it. I picked up some vocalization. Using this new mind was difficult, I still could not render the sounds into intelligible form.

I heard a heavy creature moving in the structure, I tensed to bolt. Instead I stood up straight and kept my face as blank as possible.

The door opened and a large slave exited. Never before had I needed to consider relative dimensions, but I knew instinctively that I was considerably smaller then it. I felt a flush of fear.

It lumbered up to me. I tried to read it's facial cues, still poised to bolt. I couldn't tell if it was snarling at me threateningly so I stood still as not to agitate it further. It began to make a deep, barking sound as it approached closer. My muscles shuddered.

'What happened to you , boy?' It managed to choke out through barks.

I relaxed, realizing that it was non-threatening. I could understand the words, but still was unable to make connections between them and experiences.

'Did you get robbed?' It offered, leaning forward inquisitively.

'Y... yes.' I kept my face as expressionless as possible.

'Well, come on.' It placed it's hand over my shoulder, leading me towards its dwelling. 'I've got some clothes to spare. Can't have you prancing through town beast bare. Course they won't hang too well on a skinny boy like you.' Again the heaving barking sound.

I kept quiet and allowed myself to be lead into the structure. Once inside I saw a smaller slave peeking around a doorway at me and making a higher pitched version of the larger one's bark. It stared unblinkingly at me until a third slave pulled it back from the doorway and into the room behind.

I was brought into a back room and pieces of fabric were thrown at me. 'These are the smallest I got, I don't fit them any more.'

I nodded, wondering what I was supposed to do. I realized that I had to conform in appearance to them and that required I wear the protective coverings they did. I did not know how to put them on. I stared at them, turning them this way and that.

'Did they knock you silly boy?' The slave asked roughly. 'Here, like this.' I sensed embarrassment in it as it thrust the cloth over my head and down over my shoulders. Catching on, I put my hands through the holes in the sides. Applying the same principles I managed to pull the lower garment on as well. It slid off. I slipped it back up, pulling it tight around my frame.

'Here, use this.' The slave offered, giving me a length of rope.

Realizing the intent, I secured the coverings to my body.

'There you go, boy!' The slave stretched its lips over it's teeth again. I realized it was non-threatening and did the same hesitantly. 'You look hungry. We're about to set dinner.' It pulled me back into the exterior room and sat me down on a chair.

The slave disappeared into another room. The smells emanating from that room made my mouth water.

The smallest slave once again stared at me from behind the doorway, it's eyes wide, it's mouth covered by it's fists. I stared back. It squealed and disappeared behind the wall.

The other two slaves began talking. My hearing was acute, I picked it up readily.

'Is he safe, Reg?'

'I think he's slow, like the Erikson boy. Doesn't seem smart enough to be a threat.'

'I've never seen him here before. Doesn't look like a Liefstowner.'

'He's probably from Trenton. Been roughed up by the gang.'

'It could be a ruse. Doesn't look slow, like Billy.'

'I had to show him how to put on a shirt, May! The boy is two bushels shy of a cart.'

'Jane, would you get away from the doorway for God's sake!' I knew what it said next was intended to be inaudible to me. 'Don't look at him, you don't know what will incite a man.'

My mind absorbed all of this, functioning efficiently. Understanding was still basic, but progressing rapidly.

One of the slaves came out with a container of steaming items and placed them before me with a weak smile. I smelled her mistrust.

I registered the stuff in the container instinctively as food and ate.

The rest of the slaves filed out of the kitchen with their own containers and sat down beside me. They picked up the oddly shaped tools beside their bowls and began to eat by picking at the food with them.

I realized my error and quickly corrected.

They all were staring at me over their dinners. I felt a sudden wave of discomfort and concentrated solely on eating.

'What's your name, boy?' Asked the largest slave, 'I can't rightly keep calling you "boy", now can I?'

The intent was to elicit a response from me. I had no idea how to respond. I looked up at him, feeling a sudden nervousness. I had never lied before. I did not even understand the concept of deception. This mind did and supplied an answer readily. 'Evan.' It said.

'Aright Evan... I'm Reg, this is my wife May and my daughter Jane.' The slave nodded to each in turn.

I was beginning to distinguish each of their faces from the others. I realized that Reg was male and the two others female. Although there was little reason to differentiate in my world, I had discovered that females adapted more readily to carrying foreign genetic material in their bodies then males. They made better hosts.

'Where are you from, Evan?' May asked, trying to project concern.

May disliked the threat I posed to her world. I sensed much mistrust, especially in terms of her daughter. I was unsure what she thought I would do to the slave Jane, but I knew she wanted rid of me.

'The mountain.' I supplied succinctly.

'I didn't know there was a town up there.' She continued suspiciously.

'Now, May... I'm sure the boy has been through enough without your questions.' Reg supplied, defending me. 'You know, if you need money and a place to stay. I heard that Jim has use for a hand around his ranch. Just shoveling and hauling. All you need is a strong back. I could take you to him tomorrow if you like.'

Not knowing what else to do, I nodded.


[This message has been edited by typhonblue (edited September 04, 2000).]

[This message has been edited by typhonblue (edited September 04, 2000).]