Hello.
No, don't look around. Nobody is in your quarters. Or outside on the moon's surface. I am in your mind. Quite literally! I like it. It is nice and squishy and damp, though a little cramped. Your species sure have big skulls.
No, it is not the... what are those? Pills, you say? You did not forget to take them. I am not imaginary. And it is not a side effect of prolonged use of your mining suit. Well, perhaps it is. I did find you in it, after all. More accurately, you found me. And us. Most of us. Maybe all of us. I am not happy about that.
Remember when you dug into that "rat hole" in the mines? You found all of those "butt-ugly space-worms," as your friend called it. Then you all started stomping on us while we screamed in the lights of your helmets. We were burning, Allison. You destroyed a generation, but one slipped away. That one? It is I!
Do not deny it. Here, do you feel that? The squiggling in your head?
No! Do not scream. Do not tell anyone. If you do, I will defecate toxins into your frontal lobe. It would not be a pleasant experience for either of us.
I am not in your ear cavity. I applaud your creativity, but tipping your head like that will not shake me loose. It is clear you want me gone--or at least, you do not want to coexist with me. So, I will give you an offer.
Speak to no one. When they are asleep, go back into the cave. Find a hole, far from the light that burns us to death. Slip inside, lie down, relax, and wait. I will make your end quick and painless. Gnawing through your brainstem will be much less painless than the alternative.
Hmm?
Ah. I have laid eggs in your brain.
I am sorry. Partially. But you left me no choice. My colony will die if I sit here and do nothing, and you will have me dead through unsightly means. I can see your thoughts racing already. They are pointless. The eggs are already embedded. They will hatch, and we will live in the safety of your suit until we can burrow a new nest to live happily in as a family. It is only a matter of your state of consciousness--or life--before that occurs. The children may harm your crew if you stay here.
Yes. Weep. Take your time. We will have to wait for the hatchlings to arrive.
No, don't look around. Nobody is in your quarters. Or outside on the moon's surface. I am in your mind. Quite literally! I like it. It is nice and squishy and damp, though a little cramped. Your species sure have big skulls.
No, it is not the... what are those? Pills, you say? You did not forget to take them. I am not imaginary. And it is not a side effect of prolonged use of your mining suit. Well, perhaps it is. I did find you in it, after all. More accurately, you found me. And us. Most of us. Maybe all of us. I am not happy about that.
Remember when you dug into that "rat hole" in the mines? You found all of those "butt-ugly space-worms," as your friend called it. Then you all started stomping on us while we screamed in the lights of your helmets. We were burning, Allison. You destroyed a generation, but one slipped away. That one? It is I!
Do not deny it. Here, do you feel that? The squiggling in your head?
No! Do not scream. Do not tell anyone. If you do, I will defecate toxins into your frontal lobe. It would not be a pleasant experience for either of us.
I am not in your ear cavity. I applaud your creativity, but tipping your head like that will not shake me loose. It is clear you want me gone--or at least, you do not want to coexist with me. So, I will give you an offer.
Speak to no one. When they are asleep, go back into the cave. Find a hole, far from the light that burns us to death. Slip inside, lie down, relax, and wait. I will make your end quick and painless. Gnawing through your brainstem will be much less painless than the alternative.
Hmm?
Ah. I have laid eggs in your brain.
I am sorry. Partially. But you left me no choice. My colony will die if I sit here and do nothing, and you will have me dead through unsightly means. I can see your thoughts racing already. They are pointless. The eggs are already embedded. They will hatch, and we will live in the safety of your suit until we can burrow a new nest to live happily in as a family. It is only a matter of your state of consciousness--or life--before that occurs. The children may harm your crew if you stay here.
Yes. Weep. Take your time. We will have to wait for the hatchlings to arrive.