“It’s like a horror-story…” Jarek muttered, staring into the floor of his office. Smile nodded, only to hear Mara mutter silently: “Sounds like he was having fun. Who would’ve thought having a monster inside your body might be?” Logan felt Mara’s sharp elbow nudge his chest, but he was in no mood to engage in her unwanted flirtation. He leaned on the bookshelf, battling a profound disgust at the tale. He knew what this was - at least the mechanisms of it.

“It’s a symbiotic parasite. They both have something to gain from this - Cadia gets meat and the Monstrum gets bodies and nourishment… I’m wondering how long this has been going on… how much biomass it’s consumed could predict what it’s making.”

Jarek looked uncomfortably towards the bookshelf and Logan imagined Smile did, too. He did not blame them - they’d heard him use the term before. But he shook his head and clarified: “This is an exoparasite. Not an endoparasite. The followers… have they been defiled by the thing, too?” Smile shrugged, before looking questioningly towards the others, who in turn, repeated the gesture. He reached under his mask to rub the corners of his mouth with dreadful musings.

“There’s no telling what they’d let it do to them… If they’re all involved in it… even if they’re not - this town is obviously brimming with its presence.” Smile stared down to the floor before nodding. She did not protest - she knew it to be true as much as he did.

Jarek looked between the two sullen Ghasts and stepped forwards to ask: “What do you mean let it do to them?” Logan finally stopped staring at the floor to explain: “The Priest and the Administrator have to die. For all we know, they’ve been implanted with gene-seeds. They might even have let it happen.” The realization dawned upon Jarek, as well. But still, Logan needed to dismiss any potential misunderstandings.

“There’s a chance that everyone in this town is infested with gene-seeds. Meaning, that at any point, they could explode and spread the creep.” The Captain raised his fingers to rub his weary eyes - again feeling that burn on his cheek, worsened by how unapologetically the Ghast spoke such dire words.

“Is there a way to screen us? To make sure we haven’t been defiled?”

Logan met his gaze with the slits of his mask to explain: “I can feel them. Sometimes, but far from always… but we’d have to go out of the town - far enough away from wherever this hive is and even then, it would not be a guarantee. They sometimes burst when the host is exposed to fire, but that usually only happens if the damage is so great they’re going to die. So…”

Mara swallowed, finally making the realization that everyone else had made. “So, we can’t go anywhere? We’ll have to stay right here in Cadia forever?”

They all knew of her folly - perhaps she even knew, herself, but spoke from wish rather than fact.

Smile took a step towards Jarek and warned: “The Eyes were already moving before I sent my confirmation. They will be here soon.” He had forgotten the feeling. He had thought he remembered it, but as he was faced with the cold, uncaring voice of one well-versed in sacrificing large volumes of innocents, he was reminded of that night. The cold chills along his spine, the sinking of his shoulders and the gnawing in his stomach struck him simultaneously.

“Fuck… In your experience, how much time do we have? Can we get to the bottom of this and find the hive before they come? Before we-...” He struggled to say it.

Logan had felt a certain way about the man ever since they’d met. He had been cool and calm, calculated - even fun. In many ways, he was what Logan aspired to be - at least off the battlefield. But to act so calmly to the news of the looming death of both himself and his daughter was a rarity - more expected from his own ranks, rather than what he’d thought he’d find in Cadia.

The Commander stepped forth and shook his head. “There’s time. You’re not going to explode and the Eyes aren’t going to kill you. I can’t guarantee you’ll live through the rest… but that’s my guarantee.” Jarek winced upon hearing those words, but before he could ask the Ghast to confirm, Logan had already set for the door.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The Ghast continued on through the garrison and down onto the street, where a wheelbarrow full of packaged meat stopped upon seeing his tall, dark, legendary form. He met the eyes of the person wheeling it to see him glare at the Governor’s Hand.

“Come with me.”

It had been a few years since Logan last tortured a man. He hadn’t done good with it then and as he stared across his canvas laid out in chains on the wooden table in the dim stone brig, he realized he hadn’t improved much.

In truth, this bloody experiment served another purpose - he’d never seen how far he could push a body before activating the Seed.

His victim had once been a gray, strong, old man. Now, he was little more than a bleeding, mostly skinless pulp on the table. He had started off by breaking his fingers and already then had spilled his guts and served to assist Logan in making his plans. Now, he needed to see it - to touch it, smell it and feel it.

He looked to the man’s skinned throat. He had cut carefully, but narrowly nicked both carotids, drastically lowering his cerebral bloodflow. Therefore, he had long since lost his consciousness, but the creature was bared.

A novice might’ve thought it part of his body - a well-rounded ball of sploshing, writhing meat that had eaten away the interstitial tissues and filled in his usual functions - the muscles connecting the neck to the cranium and the likes. Essentially, he could not live with or without the parasite. But soon - very soon, this ball would burst out from its shell of ligaments and connective tissues to spread vile tendrils across the granite chamber.

Logan walked across the floor and sat down on the chair in the corner to fold his legs and behold the spectacle in peace.

Alone with his mind, his thoughts began to race - seeking out ways to rule out an infestation of Mara and Jarek, well aware that he had spent countless hours pondering that very same question. And by the looks of this man… it seemed the parasite would not be leaving before it was good and ready.

He began to stare at the droplets of blood reflecting the bright, blue skies outside as the blood congealed in an uneasy pool on the floor. Uneasy… because something was moving in the murky red.

He thought at first a cockroach or a pest centipede had found its way into the until-then clean cell, but as he stared longer at it, he could see the unmistakable peristaltic movements of suction as little by little, the pool began to drain away. He stepped over to the table and grabbed a fistful of the sawed-off skin before dragging it across the many cracks in the floor, only to see that it began to similarly writhe. Minutely thin fibers sprouted slowly from the cracks - like red blades of grass growing at a hundred times the speed.

A single knock on the wooden door preceded the creaking of the barrier swinging open. He knew those bootsteps, but he hadn’t heard them in months. Perhaps even years at that point.

“Behemoth-Bane.” The snarky voice of a middle-aged woman spoke from behind. He rose up from the floor and turned to see another Ghast. She was shorter than him - shorter than most the Ghasts. Still, she carried herself as if she stood tall above them all, which was fitting for his own equivalent in the Eyes of the Governor.

He could see her long eyelashes in the wide gaps of the mask - a curious feat, as he could only see darkness beyond Smile’s similar mask.

Closely behind her, the comparatively taller Smile appeared with her hands folded at her back in a strict salute, glancing only passingly over the butchery atop the table.

“Commander Iris - what a pleasure.” He spoke sarcastically and tipped his head in a court bow.

“Yes… well. I wish I could say the same. What are you doing here? This is a case for the Eyes - the Hand has no role in this. Shouldn’t you be at the Frontier?” He bobbed his head back and forth before shrugging.

“I ran into my dear apprentice in Anza - I couldn’t let her go all the way here alone… As for my being in Cradle to begin with, I’m taking some personal time to deal with family matters. I’d ask what you were doing here, but I already know.” He could hear the scoff through her nose.

“Then you should know to get out of here, already. We’re just waiting for the last of my people to arrive before we begin the Purge - your services are neither needed nor welcomed, hand.” He found himself wishing she’d employ the same trick Smile used to suppress her emotions. Alas, if she were to keep all that bile and snarkiness pent up, he imagined she’d explode from the pressure.

“No can do, Commander Iris. I’ve still got an investigation to complete.” He took a step next to her to scoff a chuckle at Smile and tapped his blood-soaked glove on Iris’ shoulder, staining her pristinely treated coat with the slick, crimson goop.

“Oh, and a word of warning. That corpse is going to explo-” Iris reared as the damage had finally reached such levels that sustaining its host’s blood supply had become challenging to the young parasite. Therefore, it did as it was made to do and shot out its multitude of barbed claws to either wall, before the body of the ball of flesh rose up from the corpse to suspend itself mid-air, pulsating… breathing.

“I’m sure you remember how to deal with the odd Spawn, yes?” Logan spoke as he departed, ignoring her shouts of defamatory obscenities.