They made it back to the Gutierrez family home again without incident. Raul still hadn’t returned.

“It’s okay, he’ll be back soon,” Mrs. Gutierrez said. Nobody else said anything for several moments.

“What’s in the bag?” Qadira asked.

“Something informative,” Matsuda said. “May I borrow you upstairs bathroom, Mr. And Mrs. Gutierrez?”

“Uh, of course? The water doesn’t work though,” she said.

“That’s fine. Do you have any gloves I could borrow?”

“They’re in the cupboard with the cleaning supplies. Same bathroom.”

“Excellent. Wil, could you come with me? Maybe give the family some time alone?”

“Isn’t Rosa going to go out again?” Wil asked.

“No!” Mrs. Gutierrez said and grabbed her eldest daughter. “She will wait here for now. Enough going out.”

“Mama…” Rosa said and her mother shook her head.

“They need some time to talk things over,” Matsuda said and tugged on Wil’s arm. “Come on. I need assistance.”

“Uh, okay,” Wil said and followed the old man as he carried the bag with the head in it. They didn’t talk while they were in the house, tip-toed up the stairs, and Matsuda closed and locked the bathroom door behind them. “What’s going on?”

“Family. They need time to talk it out. Also I don’t know what’s going to happen with this head and I may need you to either help me contain whatever comes out, or put me down. Are you ready for that?”

“Am I ready to kill you? No!” Wil said.

“I doubt it’ll come to that, Matsuda said. “But just in case.”

“Is this really necessary?” Wil asked.

“Yes. Any opportunity we have to learn,” Matsuda said and withdrew the hatchet that was attached to his belt. He also took out a pair of thick rubber gloves from beneath the sink, then turned toward the shower and cut down a colorful floral plastic shower curtain with the hatched. He cut it into strips and made himself a makeshift mouth guard with one thin piece and an apron with a larger piece.

“Contamination,” Matsuda said. “Get behind me.”

“Fine, let’s do this,” Wil said as he moved behind Matsuda. The bathroom was small enough that he had to stand in the shower, and held the remains of the shower curtain in front of his body with one hand while the other rested on his pistol. Matsuda put the head in the sink, then gently began to wedge his hatchet in the wound Wil had made and pry it open wider, as if he were opening a stubborn walnut shell.

“That’s disgusting,” Wil said at the wet crunching noises which emerged from the sink. “Oh god the smell.”

“Crack the window open please,” Matsuda said and Will hurried to do so. The chilly October air was a literal breath of fresh air, but the stink of rot, something like shit, and a darker, deeper aroma that made his temples tighten. He heard Matsuda cough and the old man turned his head away towards the window to take a deep breath.

“You gonna make it?” Wil asked and Matsuda nodded. His eyes were watering but he waved a hand at Wil.

“I’m okay. It’s just…very aromatic.”

“Do you see anything in there?” Wil asked.

“Just give me a moment, and get behind me again,” the old man said before he returned to the sink. There was more cracking and squishing, and Wil saw a large chunk of skull with scalp and hair attached roll to one side of the sink. For several moments there was nothing as Matsuda continued to work at the skull, then he paused and said, “Hm.”

“What?” Wil asked.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Come see,” Matsuda said. Wil stepped around Matsuda’s side and looked down into the sink. The old man had effectively removed the top half of the thing’s skull, fully exposing the brain from the ears up.

Except it wasn’t just a human brain.

Something that looked like a small, black manta ray was spread across the top, smaller than both of Wil’s hands put side-by-side. Thin, spindly legs extended from underneath the ray-like thing and pierced the sides of the brain. This was accompanied by thick, vein like protrusions that snaked over the surface of the brain, and drawn tight, as if it were choking the gray matter.

“What the hell is that?”

“The source of a lot of problems, would be my guess,” Matsuda said.

“That thing got transferred through a bite?” Wil asked. “I mean, it’s not huge, but it’s still way too big to get injected into somebody’s head through a bite.”

“True, but this was one of the medium ones. The big ones like what Sandoval turned into, it shoves those barbed tongues into Birkin’s skull. Birkin just bit Mr. Stewart and he was slow, uncoordinated. If we’re going off the idea that each successive, hm, generation gets weaker, this would line up with that. The big ones do some kind of cranial injection, put…whatever this is inside, and then if they bite somebody, they make a smaller, slower one…somehow. This is all just theory, I’d need more samples but…it fits with what we’ve seen so far. I just want to remove this thing first, see the underside.”

“Ugh, god,” Wil said and stepped back behind Matsuda once again and tried to peer over his shoulder. The old man used his hatchet to get under the side of the black ray and peeled it up.

Something like a sucker with hundreds of tiny, needle teeth was on the underside, and dozens of those thick black veins branched out from the ray’s wing-like sides. The largest veins went down the back along the spinal cord, and two went to the eye sockets.

“Well, we know how they see and how they attach,” Matsuda said and then started to pull the ray fully away from the brain. It’s thin, spiny legs curled inward like a dead spider’s and there was an unpleasant popping and sucking sound as the black veins stretched and tore away from the brain.

“This is rougher than I’d like,” Matsuda said, “but it’ll have to do for now. We’ve learned the basics. This thing, whatever it is, takes control of the brain, the spinal cord, and runs it like a car, more or less.”

“How does it make them strong, though?” Wil asked.

Matsuda sighed. “No idea. I would think, possibly, that it would force chemicals from the brain through the body using this vein system. Maybe, but again, a mere guess. Obviously it sees through its connection to the eyes which would explain why they turn black. I'm not a scientist but I'm familiar with the basics of anatomy and, well, the black veins going into the backs of the eyes are a pretty substantial giveaway."

"Yeah, no shit," Wil said. "So what now? Do we tell Rosa about this?"

"She should know, though it won't make too much difference. The strategy remains the same: go for the head. Your axe nearly bisected this...whatever it is. And that buck you fought, you decapitated it as well?

"Yeah but it kind of sewed itself back onto the body," Wil replied. "When Rosa shotgunned it, it was down for good."

"So even if it has its connection severed from the rest of the body, it can repair itself to some degree. All or nothing. And this is just for these medium ones here. The big ones and the slow ones could be completely different. Remember Sandoval didn't even have any visible outward injuries. He just got some of the black substance on his face and died."

"We should come up with a name for these things," Wil said. "All we have so far is black-eyed thing, green-eyed thing, big one, medium one, slow one. It'd be good to be able to explain to each other what they are if we see one in a way that was faster."

"That's where you're concern is?" Matsuda asked. "Naming them?"

"Well, naming something is part of making it not so unknowable. Maybe less scary. Although they are still...absolutely terrifying. But yeah, naming stuff is important. Is it easier to say big orange cat or tiger?"

"Mm. True enough, and it would make communication with other survivors easier as well," Matsuda said. "Assuming there are enough and we can start spreading information again. I really don't want to have to carry this thing around to show to others."

"I could draw it," Wil suggested and Matsuda raised his eyebrows. "I've been a technical artist for years. As in, technical drawings, not technically and artist. I mean I am technically and artist but that...look, I'm very good at drawing. Dissection manuals are actually a pretty regular thing at my office. Well, they were. I could replicate this thing, to scale, with a paper and pencil."

"How long would that take?" Matsuda asked.

"Uh, for a really good drawing, no computer or anything, at least a couple hours," Wil said and shrugged. "More time would be better. A basic one would take less time, though."

"We'll talk with the Gutierrez family and see what their plan is. If possible, I'd like you to do more than one, let them take one with them," Matsuda said.  Wil sighed.

"I'm not against the idea in practice, but I'm worried about my girlfriend. I'm not gonna be able to focus on a technical drawing while I'm thinking about what could be happening to her."

Matsuda grunted and nodded. "Fair. But we're not going anywhere without some sort of transportation. While I try to find that, can you do something basic and then try to make copies?"

Wil nodded. "Uh, sure. I can get the big ideas in there: size, shape, basic anatomical layout."

"Good. the more we can get people looking at this sort of thing, the better. Somebody might know something."

"Hopefully. I don't think these things are gonna be very chatty about much," Wil pointed out.

"Hrm. True enough. We’ll just have to kill more.”

“Well, if we’re going into the city, you’ll probably get your chance.”

Matsuda smirked and laughed. “Me? No, no. Us.”

“Yeah,” Wil said and stared at the alien creature in the sink. “Us.”