WORMS

Worms

Crawling

Inside my head

I KNOW

They whisper

And weave their threads

Subtle things

Like death’s release

The worms prey on my disease

Slithering inside my dreams

NO

No strength left

No way to resist

The worms devour me

Piece by piece

-From the journal of Jamie Leerman

Jamie stood outside the door. A plaque next to it read:

Dr. J. F. Rosen, PhD, MD.

Department of Neuropsychiatry and Neurosurgery

He closed his eyes and breathed deep. This was his last chance; he couldn’t do it anymore. If this didn’t work, then...

Jamie opened the door and walked in. Behind a desk sat a man with rimless glasses, the lenses appearing to hover in thin air on either side of his long nose.Don’t trust him.

“Shut up,” Jamie whispered.

Choke him before it’s too late. Shove those stupid glasses down his throat!

“Shut up!” Jamie yelled.

“Yes, Jamie?”

“No, not you, I—”Push him out the window and watch his guts splatter on the pavement.He tried to distract himself and turned back to the doctor, who was watching him with keen interest.

“It’s ok, Jamie. You don’t have to hide anything here.”

The doctor’s words barely registered. He wasn’t crazy. Not like that. They had done something to him. They had put this thing in his head; he remembered it.

Images flashed across his mind. Him, staring at the ceiling. Bright, fluorescent lights burning his retinas. He tried to close his eyes but found he couldn’t. Something held them open; he felt the cold steel putting pressure on his eye sockets. He laid on a hospital bed, the cotton sheets rustled beneath his fingers and pricked at his bare skin. Naked. Strapped to the bed. A man in a surgical mask approached from the corner of his vision. He held something between a pair of surgical tweezers.

“Jamie,” the sound of his name snapped the string of memories.

“I’m not crazy,” Jamie whispered.

“I didn’t say that,” Dr. Rosen returned, leaning back in his chair and pressing his fingertips together.

“Yeah, but that’s what you think,” Jamie said.Now!Grab the pen and stab it in his fucking chest!

“No, actually, I don’t,” came the soft response. “I just want to listen to your story, Jamie. And then we can decide who’s crazy and who’s not.”

Jamie hesitated. This was the first time a shrink had shown any interest in trying to understand.Kill him, kill him!Jamie ignored the thought.

“They—they made me like this,” he started. “They put this thing in my head,” he said, pointing to his temple.KILL HIM!

“Who did?”

“Scientists, the government, aliens, I don’t fucking know! I just know it’s in my head, and I want to get it the fuck out!”

“Jamie, I understand. I do. Butyoumust understand that paranoid delusions, government conspiracies—these symptoms are very common in schizophrenic patients. It’s no surprise that you received this diagnosis.”

Anger flushed Jamie’s cheeks. Why had he thought this man would be any different? Jamie opened his mouth to curse, when he noticed movement. Up where the wall and ceiling met, a small hole had appeared and something was slithering out—a thin, silver worm. A moan escaped Jamie’s lips as the worm wriggled free and fell to the floor with a wet plop. It thrashed around, searching for a host. Another plop, and another worm landed on the carpet. Jamie looked up. A scream escaped his lips as hundreds of worms burst out of the cavity. They spread across the floor, their bodies undulating as they spilled forward. Jamie scrambled back, tripped and fell. “No, no! NO! FUCK!” They crawled up his pantlegs, slithered over his arms. They crept ever closer to their goal. Jamie closed his eyes and clamped his nostrils shut with his hand. He pressed his lips together and held. The worms poked and prodded at every orifice, probing for weakness. Jamie’s lungs demanded oxygen, looking to betray him. He rolled, squishing worms beneath his weight and sending hundreds flying across the room. It didn’t matter. There were more, always more. They gushed from the hole in the wall, flooding the room in a mass of swirling silver. Black spots filled his vision, his lungs screamed, and he gave in, opening his mouth for a final gasp of air as the worms poured inside...

“Jamie. Jamie! It’s ok, son. It’s OK.” Dr. Rosen knelt beside him, grasping his hand. After Jamie’s breathing returned to normal, the doctor helped him to his feet and motioned toward the patient chair. Rosen sat down again behind his desk.

“Now, you didn’t quite let me finish. As I said, it is not surprising that you received the diagnosis you did; however, I don’t think that you are schizophrenic.”

Jamie sat, stunned. If not schizophrenic, then what was going on?Bite him! Rip out his trachea and chew on it! Maybe he’ll shut the fuck up then.

“NO!” Jamie shouted. “I’m sorry, Dr. Rosen. It’s just—”

Dr. Rosen raised a hand to silence him.

“It’s alright, Jamie. I told you this space was safe.” Dr. Rosen placed his fingertips together again and peered over his glasses. “I’d like to ask you, Jamie. What doyouthink is going on? What does it feel like to you?”

“It... it feels like there’s a worm crawling around inside my head,” Jamie said in a rush. Stupid. Fucking stupid.

“Ok, and anything else?”

“I think someone put it there. I think...”

Rosen leaned forward in his chair. “Yes?”

“I don’t know. I get these images, like flashbacks. And I remember someone, a doctor or something, putting this worm inside my head. I know it’s crazy, but that’s what I remember.”

“I don’t think it’s crazy at all, actually,” replied Dr. Rosen.

“You don’t?”

“No.”

Jamie sighed in relief. Finally, someone who would listen, someone who seemed to really care.

“Don’t worry, Jamie. I’m going to help you through this. And I actually think there’s a lot we can teacheach other.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you are more important than you know. What you’ve shared with me, it’s incredibly valuable information.”

“Valuable information? How?”

“Of course, you won’t be able to experience the fruits of my labor, which is unfortunate, but I assure you that your efforts will be put to good use.”

“What the fuck are you talk—”

“Jamie, you didn’t think you were the only one we did this to, did you? No, but you have given us a great gift, a path forward.”

All at once, the walls dissolved. Again, Jamie was strapped to the hospital bed. It was cold, so cold in the room. If he could just move, just reach the straps that bound him, then maybe—.

“Hello, Jamie. I have something very special for you today.” Dr. Rosen’s voice floated to him from the corner.

The doctor approached, holding a pair of forceps in his right hand. Grasped between the tweezers was a slender, silver worm. It twisted around the metal, its body whipping against the instrument. Jamie thrashed at the straps that bound him, tried to scream but the tape muffled the sound.

Hovering for a few seconds, the doctor tilted his head in curiosity as Jamie struggled. He inched the worm closer. Jamie tried to squeeze his eyes shut, drawing all the strength he could into that single movement. But the speculum held.

As Dr. Rosen approached, Jamie saw the corners of the surgical mask curve up as a soft chuckle escaped. “No, Jamie, you cannot escape this. But why would you want to?”

He thrust the worm toward Jamie’s exposed eye. The cold metal contacted the sclera as the worm squirmed, burrowing into the white tissue. It reached his optic nerve, sending shudders rippling along his body, his arms and legs surging against the straps.

And then, stillness.

Jamie relaxed as the worm latched onto his frontal lobe. The parasite’s pacifying secretions flooded his central nervous system with GABA. “There,” Dr. Rosen whispered. “You see, Jamie. No more struggle. No pain. No fear. Just simple, ignorant, bliss.”

The scene faded, and he found himself back in the office.Told you. Now kill him!“You! What did you put in my head you sick fuck?!” Jamie screeched and lunged at the doctor. Dr. Rosen calmly pressed a small button under his desk. Jamie collapsed to the floor, convulsions coursing through him. The smell of vomit and piss filled the room as he continued to seize. After several minutes, the tremors stopped, and Jamie’s body fell silent. Dr. Rosen rose from his chair, went to the closet next to his desk, and donned his scrubs. He stepped over Jamie and proceeded down the hallway to the surgery room. He hummed to himself as he gathered the necessary equipment. After washing his hands and arms thoroughly, he pulled on a pair of powder-blue surgical gloves, collected the materials, and returned to the office.

He rolled Jamie onto his back and away from bodily fluids that had begun soaking into the carpet. He knelt beside the corpse and began his work.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you, Jamie. But I want you to know that you have been very useful.”

With the precision of a skilled surgeon, Dr. Rosen pried open the lids of the left eye with the metal speculum, made a swift cut through the lateral canthal tendon where the two lids met, and began the careful work of cutting around the cornea limbus. Once complete, he peeled back the membrane, exposing the white tissue and the muscles that controlled the eye’s movement. He severed them cleanly, then guided the spoon under the eyeball, giving him access to the optic nerve. Within minutes, the eye lay on the carpet, the nerve trailing behind like an exposed umbilical cord. Next, he began removing the orbital roof, granting him access to the cerebral cortex.

“There you are!” Rosen exclaimed. Before him, embedded in the soft tissue, was the threadlike prize he sought. Taking his forceps, he grasped the worm and pulled. The worm released its grip, taking small chunks of gray matter with it. Dr. Rosen held the creature up, its frame glinting under the fluorescent lights as it twirled around the metal. “You did splendidly, my little one.” He placed the worm in a petri dish and covered it with a lid. The organism continued to twist and turn, nudging against the lid in an attempt to escape. “Ah ah, my pet. You’ve done quite enough,” he said, tapping the plastic cover.

With the procedure now complete, Dr. Rosen cleaned up the area, disposing of everything in the biohazard waste bag in the operating room. Then, he returned to the office, where Jamie’s body still lay face up on the floor. He gathered the petri dish containing the worm and placed it on his desk, then sat down and began to type up his report.

Project: IMPERIA

Generation: 7

Subject: Jamie Leerman, #11037

Experimental Outcome: Partial Success

Observations:

Gen 7 exceeded all expectations and provides hope that the subsequent genetic alterations made to Gen 8 will bring our goal to fruition. Successful implantation of the Dicion was completed without complication, and Subject 11037 exhibited complete passivation for two months. After this time, neural control began to break down, leading to both memory breakthrough and delusional ideation. Subsequent direct physical consultation with me led to a complete severing of the neuronal bridge and necessitated termination of the subject. It cannot be overstated, however, that the gains made from Generations 1-6 are exponential. As such, it is clear we are on the cusp of full and total conscious dominion.

-Dr. J. F. Rosen, 03.25.2031

After uploading the report, Dr. Rosen closed his laptop, picked up the petri dish containing Gen 7, and proceeded down the hall. He entered the cold-room, shivering as the air hit his skin. He opened the glass door to the fridge and placed Gen 7 back on the shelf, then picked up the next specimen. GEN 8 was scrawled in black sharpie across the clear plastic. Rosen returned to the operating room. He slipped on a new pair of scrubs, a mask, and some powder-blue gloves, then turned to the woman lying naked on the hospital bed.

“Hello, Claire,” he said. “I have something very special for you today.”