The brisk evening air gives the village a peaceful atmosphere. Terry had lived in this village all his life, working his small personal garden similar to some of the other residents. His hands were raw from digging out his garden. He was almost ready to sow an herb called Miracle Weed. It was a type of plant, often used to fill one's smoking pipe, and would give you a sense of euphoria. It actually sold quite well in some of the larger villages and cities. He stood tall, brushing the sweat from his brow. Doing so had left a long black streak across his forehead, he seemed to not notice.
“Evening, Terry.” He heard a giggle from his left. He looked toward the source, seeing a woman with a long scar running down her jaw to her throat. It was a gruesome scar, but it did not bother Terry in the least. He lifted a dirty hand and gave her a small wave, crossing his garden as well, to lean against the fence separating the two of them.
“Am I seeing you tonight, Eve?” he asked, giving her a sly wink. She moved away from the fence, swaying her hips in an exaggerated way, and looked over her shoulder to say, “If you're lucky,” with a not-so-shy grin. He watched his wife leave, not taking his eyes off her curves.
A shape of black-and-silver leapt from the darkness just out of Terry’s view and smashed into the woman. She toppled over with a scream, as the direwolf placed one of its huge paws on her stomach.
In the distance throughout the village, other screams had started, as other villagers suffered a similar attack. “I’ll save you!” Terry yelled, leaping over the fence and bringing the shovel up with both of his hands.
What Terry failed to notice about the wolf was the silver creatures attached to it like leeches. One broke free from its fur and landed on the woman. It quickly burrowed under the skin of her forearm, and the wolf let out an explosive howl. The sound from its howl alone caused the buildings nearby to shake. The sheer pressure of the howl had even knocked Eve unconscious.
Terry dropped to his knees, holding his hands over his ears. Blood was dripping out of them as he screamed, but he could no longer hear, save for the beat of his heart and the pumping of blood through his veins. When he looked up, a creature with a snub nose and whiskers as long as its body leaped at him. It threw itself into his open mouth, burrowing through the skin of his throat, digging its way to the base of his neck. All that could be heard was the sound of him choking on the creature. As blood pooled in his throat, all he could do was try to swallow the flowing liquid between each gulp. He reached out a hand toward Eve, wishing the distance between them was not so far. Water had long since pooled in his eyes. He wanted to feel his wife's hand in his at least one more time, but it was too late.
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Terry turned his head left, then right. His neck cracked as he began to bend his sore limbs, testing the newly acquired body. A tongue ran across his lips, cleaning the blood that had frothed. He could taste the salt from his tears mixed in. The wound in his throat was already stitching itself up like fleshy spiderwebs; in a few seconds, he was as good as new. Even the calluses on his hands began to fall from his dirty fingers, revealing his once-perfect hands. He glanced at the woman on the floor; she was sitting up, looking at her hands as well. She touched her face, and the scar had already started repairing itself, leaving behind her perfect skin and a faint line that was fading by the second. In a couple of minutes, half a dozen humans had been changed. Each one stood up from the ground and blocked the path of anyone trying to escape. Their numbers only grew until every last one belonged to the hive.
A small boy, aged no more than fourteen, entered his family home. “Mother?” the boy asked, looking around the room. He saw his mom hiding in the corner. She hushed him and told him to shut the door. He did as he was told and walked closer to his mother. He knelt down and gave her a big hug. “It's okay, Mom.” He leaned back from the hug and lifted his left hand to her face. Wait, his left hand?
A look of shock and horror spread across his mother's face. She backed away from the boy trying to soothe her. “You're not my son!” she screamed, throwing anything she could at him, but he seemed to not mind any of it at all. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver creature. Her son did not have a left arm; he had only a stump since he was a baby. She threw a knife, and it stabbed into his stomach. He frowned at her, using his other hand to pull the blade out of his abdomen. “That's not nice.” he said, berating her.
“But Mother, it can heal you too, and you and Father can finally have another child,” he said, smiling at her while walking forward. “Don’t you want to be happy with the family?” She continued to throw things at him, screaming.
“What are you? Who are you!? Where is my baby boy?”
The door behind the boy opened, and his father walked in with a belt in his hand. He snapped the belt as they both began walking forward. Both the boy and his father spoke the same words: “This is for the good of the family.” They said as the silver creature launched from the boy's hand, diving into the woman's shoulder. She screamed as it burrowed under her skin.
As she screamed, her son and husband spoke: “As for our name, we are Mort.” They both said this aloud, watching her squirm from the pain, but it did not last long; it never has. She eventually stood up and began packing her things while the two boys headed outside. Everyone was packing their things, breaking down their homes and stacking the lumber in an organized way. A few people were building a couple of wagons. Not a single person needed to speak. After all, ‘they are all me.’ Everything was according to Mort's plan.