Parasyte, Thy Name Is
Parasyte, Thy Name Is

Parasyte, Thy Name Is

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It happened again.  I don't recall what exactly it was.  I don't remember doing it.  I couldn't have done it.  
Yet here I am, again, on this desolate road driving into the darkness.  I feel wet and clammy.  Is it from profusely sweating, as my heartbeat threatens to rupture my eardrums- or because I now notice that I'm covered in gore and viscera?  My fingers are wrapped around the steering wheel in a death-grip and I can see all of the bones in my hands as the skin is stretched so taut over my knuckles.  What have I done?
Where am I going?  What am I doing out here?  What could warrant being out here? 
I don't know where I'm going.  The curves in the road blur into one another.  The mile markers flash by in rapid succession so quickly that I cannot even read them.  I don't see any recognizable landmarks.  There are no stores.  I don't see any houses.  There is nothing out here.  Why am I here?  I'm moving so fast the streetlights begin to have a strobe effect as my car passes beneath them- until I'm so far removed from civilization that there aren't anymore.  The shroud of night covers me and makes me nearly invisible- save for the two shafts of light created by my headlamps.  I can feel myself being swallowed by the inky black and time either stands still or has no meaning.  I cannot see a thing now, and I have the sensation of my spirit leaving my body.  My mind drifts away and I am carried into the nothing.  I don't remember when I blacked-out, or if I did- but I arrive at my destination as if almost on auto-pilot.
The car is off.  The headlights are off.  I don't remember doing either.  The only sounds that I can hear are the wind blowing through the barren branches of trees, an occasional chirp from a lone cricket, and sound of the car's tires settling into the rocks on the ground.  The night is still.  I am alone.  Why am I here?
The creak from the rusty springs of the trunk stir me back into consciousness- I have no memory of walking to the back of the car or even reaching into my pocket for the keys.  Why is there glass on the ground?  What is this large bundle in the back of my car covered with a tarp?  What is that rotten stench?  Is that blood?  Why is there so much of it?  Whose is it?
I find myself standing in front of a shallow grave, illuminated only by a single lantern, that I have no knowlegde of having dug.  My hands ache though, as if I dug the hole- I can feel the sting in my wrists and arms, so I must have dug it.  Did I?  Was it already here?  The hole that lies before me reminds me of the holes in my memory.  How did I get down here?  Where is my car?  How far away is it?  
I know that I must be out here for some reason.  It must be to dispose of this large heap that I removed from the trunk of my car.  I reach down and roll the tarp into the cavity in the ground- a woman's arm flops carelessly out of the gruesome package.  As it hits the bottom of this hastily made tomb- the wrappings burst open.  What lay before me is the remains of woman or rather the pieces of one.  Her arms have be severed at the shoulder and placed across her chest lengthwise.  The legs have been cut off just below the pelvis and arranged behind her back- where she's quietly resting on them.  Blood is everywhere.  It runds down her mutilated torso, covering up her now noticable nakedness.  There are slashes and stab wounds everywhere.  The carnage still looks fresh as the vital fluids still leaking out of her have yet to coagulate and are still quite viscous.  I stare at the horrifying scene in front of me.  I should be sick.  Why aren't I sick?  Is this what I've done?  How could I be capable of this?  This is grotesque.  It is vile.  I look at her face and see her eyes staring back at me.  Cold.  Lifeless.  Guilty?  Deserving?
All at once this wave of recollection washes over me and can see it all.  I catch a glimpse of her aura- that's how I originally selected her.  Hers was glowing in the throng of people that surrounded her.  I am drawn to her like a moth to the proverbial flame.  I now remember picking her out of the crowd, following her- no, stalking her like a wild animal does it prey.  She does not appear to be with anyone.  Waiting for the perfect moment when she was alone, isolated- to strike and take her down.  Cornering her.  Cutting off all means of escape.  Everything replays in my mind, as if I'm watching a movie.  She turns around to face me- attempting to fend off my attack.  She is unsuccessful.  I see the terror in her face, the knowing look of fear growing behind her eyes.  
I can hear the hissing in my own head instructing me what to do.  It grows louder and more insistent.  The Voices in my head claw at at the back of my eyeballs with their jagged, sharp words as they urge me on to make her pay for what she's done.  She's the one!  She's the one that did it!  It's her!  She's the one that deserves to be punished!  I can still hear her muffled cries for help as my hand covers her mouth.  I wince in pain as I feel her teeth bite into my the butt of my palm.  The sudden instance of pain jolts me back into reality- Why is she the one?  What could she have done?  Why do I need to punish her?  Then the screaming of the Voices begins to cloud my mind, and drown out her own stifled pleas for help- and I continue as almost in a hypnotic state to eliminate her resistance...  I wrap my other hand around her slender throat and squeeze her windpipe closed until she loses consciousness.  I can feel the full weight of her heft as I lift her and carry her back to my car.  I remember driving her to my lair.  I can remember lugging her still body from the car and taking her into my oasis of torture. 
The flashes of silver and the splashes of red dance together in a symphony of agony- and I am the conductor.  I am a wizard and the blade my wand- my unwilling assistant aids me with my ritual.  She is my sacrifice and I offer her up upon my altar to the Gods that approve of what I am doing.  I am the Hunter.  The crimson life-force paints the walls and covers the floor.  My fingers tingle and remember every slash, thrust, and plunge.  I feel the sensation of the resistance the flesh offers before yielding to the metal.  There is no surgical precision here.  This is brutality.  Pure and simple animalistic rage.  The screams of terror.  The wet sounds of cutting.  The whistling of the instrument of death as it races through the air.  Her struggle.  Watching as she fought against her restrainst.  Her  entreating.  Muffled sounds through the duct tape covering her mouth.  Her writhing.  Twisting and contorting to free herself.  Her crying.  Tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin.  Her eyes.  Those eyes.  Wide with fear.  Her pupils opened wide, like a portal, and that was when I felt her soul leaving her body and enter into mine.  Her...  Then nothing.  All is still and silent as a crypt.  Only the dripping of blood in the background and my ragged, panting breathing.  It is done.  She has paid for what she did.  She can never do it again.  
I feel the wood of the axe handle as I begin to seperate her major extremities from the rest of her sanguine soaked form.  First the arms.  Next, the legs.  I can feel the ripping of flesh, the tearing of sinew, and the snapping of bone- reverberate through the wood, with each swing of the blade.  I now remember placing the mangles pieces of her body in the tarp.  I place the legs in first, followed by the main trunk, and placed her arms in front of her to preserve modesty- for some odd reason.  Not really sure why.
I can rememeber placing her bundled up remains in the back of the car.  Getting behind the wheel, starting the car, and backing out the drive-way.  I can't remember much after that.  I can remember parking the car, opening the trunk, and getting the package out of the back.  I also recall hitting the tail-light with the blade of the shovel as I attempted to place the ring of the lantern on the handle.  I even have memory of removing the gore soaked bundle.  I even recall carrying all of it through the woods to where I am now.  The last thing I remember doing was digging this hole.  Why can't I remember anything else?  How did I get here?  Where am I?
I know I have to dispose of my grisly plaything- she has served her purpose.  Her power is mine.  The sickening sound of my shovel violates the very ground beneath me as I attempt to hide what I have done from the world.  Shovelful after shovelful of dirt begins to coneal the evidence of my crime- as her body is covered by the soft, loose earth.  The skeletons of the forest bear silent witness to the foul proceedings.  The barren branches are moved by a gentle breeze and it sounds as if the trees are giving me a sinister round of applause for a job well done.  They bow their macabre approval as they sway back and forth as I finish with the last few shovels full of dirt.  I look around and noticed another unmarked, shallow grave just a few feet a way.  Then another.  Then two more.  Three more.  This is my private cemetery- each grave mound is a trophy- no, a testament, to my greatness.  I have done this many times before.  I will do it again.  I shall absorb the life essence of many more, as I have already done- countless of times.  My power will be absolute.  I cannot be stopped.  The hunt begins anew.
I pick up my tools and the lantern and make my way back to the car.  I wipe the drying blood and dirt from my face with a towel in the passenger's seat.  I turn the key and the engine comes to life, put the car in gear, and start to head back in search of my next source of power.  The darkness is comforting.  I roll down the window, so that I can feel the night breeze in my face.  The cool air feels good against my skin as my mind reels with the possibilites of who my next victim will and what I can do with my ever increasing power.  I am...  What are there lights in the distance behind me.  Red.  White. Blue.  Flashing.  It's a cop.  I didn't see any cops or was I not paying attention.  Not now, not now.  I relax.  I breathe.  I have done nothing.  
I pull off to the shoulder of the road as the police car stops behind me.  Seconds feel like hours waiting for him to get out of his car.  He finally emerges and walks up to my car shining the flashlight in my face.  He asks for my ID and vehicle registration.  As I hand it to him out, he asks if I know why he stopped me.  I say no, as I can't think of anything.  I don't remember how I got here or even why I'm here.  He says something about a busted tail light.  He asks me what I'm doing out here on this road, especially at this time of night.  My mind freezes- I cannot think of anything.  I feel a lump in my throat and can feel the sweat to begin welling up in my pores.  I can feel him staring at me- waiting for a response.  I feel like I'm starting to twitch.  Am I twitching?  The blinding light of the flash light fills my vision and I can't see a thing.  He mutters something and jumps away from from the car.  I hear what sounds like "dried" "blood" and "covered".  He draws his gun and points it at me.  He yells to place my arms out the window and open the door.  He continues yelling as he tells me to drop to my knees and place my hands behind my head.  I feel the icy metal of the bracelets as they are clapped around my wrists.  Something hard strikes me in the back of the head and the world goes dark.
I awake in a dimly lit room and immediately realize that I cannot move.  I've been strapped to a table- across my neck, arms, wrists, waist, thighs and legs.  I'm completely immobile.  Where am I?  I attempt to scream only to realize that my mouth has been covered with a thick, industrial tape.  I see a figure move towards me in the the near darkness.  He appears to be wearing a leather butcher's apron over what looks like a cop's uniform.  I catch a brief glimpse is his badge, partially concealed by the strap, as it catches the light.  This has to be the cop that pulled me over.  What's he doing now?  Why does he have me here?  He reaches down and reveals a long, shiny, vicious looking knife.  He moves it back and forth, letting the light hit it, so that I can see the length and thickness of the blade.  He leans forward and starts to whisper in my ear.  The closer he gets to my face, it starts to contort into a rictus grin.  He hisses in my ear, You're the one!  You're the one that did it!  It's you!  You deserved to be punished!  Your soul will make me even more powerful!  
The next thing I know, I'm surrounded by my fellow Officers.  They're screaming at me to drop the knife and to get down on the ground.  I don't know what's happening.  Where am I?  I look down and notice that I'm covered in blood and there's a man secured to table with multiple stab wounds and slashes across the entirety of his body.  I feel hands on my shoulder roughly pushing me to the ground.  I feel a boot kick the knife out of my hand.  They cuff me, pick me up, and escort me to the cruiser to take me back to the precinct.  That is all that I can remember.  
I found out that they used the GPS in my car to locate me after I failed to report back in after a routine traffic stop.  This is how they found me.  That is where they found me.  I can't remember anything other than what I've already told you.
The following passages were discovered in a hidden compartment in a diary, that was purchased at an estate sale.  Someone within the group was drawn to this diary and could feel the overwhelming power emanating from it.  The person that read this diary was able to contact the spirit and bind them to prevent them from escaping.  They then nullified the spirit with white light to neutralize their ability to manifest or possess anyone in this realm.  After purchashing this diary, as no one else knew what it was or what it held, they channeled the entity into a more appropriate vessel.  Then the container was thoroughly tested to ascertain just what the entity was capable of and the full extent of his powers.  
It was determined this particular being was a Soul Leech.  It gains more power and grows in strength the more souls that it consumes.  While it was in this reality, it required a host- due to it's parasitic nature.  This spirit has now been barred from entering this world, but can enter any other plane of existence and do its feeding there; and then transfer the power from those souls to the bearer of this piece.  This spirit can be directed to go forth into any realm and reap the souls of any being that have power that you desire.  If you desire wealth- the Soul Leech will find the wealthiest most affluent spirit and transfer their ability into you.  Do you want power?  The Soul Leech will seek out only the mightiest and elite and bring their empire to ruin, in order grant you the power that you seek.  Down on your luck?  The Soul Leech will drain every last drop of essence out of a Leprechaun and bestow their inherent blessings on you.  Looking for that special someone?  The Soul Leech will extract the power from Eros himself to bring your true love to you.  All you have to do is concentrate on the piece and command the Soul Leech to go into aether and reap the souls, ingest them, and return and transfer the power into you.