The unmistakable odor of putrefaction stirred Watley from sleep. He’d come to accept the smell as the tissue of his lower leg had rotted beyond repair. It no longer caused him pain, however. In fact, the leg felt good; brand new, even.

Watley lifted his head and saw that it was nearly night. The sky was overcast and seemed burdened with precipitation. Sitting up, his vision teetered, and he nearly fell back to the ground from the dizzying motion. When his eyesight leveled out, he noted that he had been sleeping by the side of a road. Nearby, just beyond a wooden fence was a ramshackle barn and he wondered why he hadn’t chosen this structure as a place to rest. Maybe he had lacked the strength to reach it and had merely collapsed where he lay. He couldn’t even recall how he’d gotten here; the last thing he remembered was leaving the hospital grounds.

Studying his bad leg, he saw that the musculature of the lower half of the limb had been…replaced by something else. Some other material. He stood and recognized the sturdiness he had previously lacked. No more limping.

The rancid flesh from his previous leg though, dangled lifelessly. He brushed it off with his hand, causing it drop to the ground and Watley fought the impulse to vomit. He spat the acidic taste and realized for the first time how goddamned thirsty he was. His tongue felt swollen and his lips were cracked from dehydration.

As if on cue, a light drizzle fell and Watley opened his mouth to the sky. Relief came painstakingly slow, but eventually he began to feel replenished. The rain washed away the grime and sweat from his face and the sensation of feeling clean prompted him to entirely remove the remnants of his bio suit. He had already been without his helmet, so what did it matter now?

The suit came off without trouble, except at the “new” leg; here, the fabric was one with his changed flesh. Watley tried tugging at it, but the organic and artificial materials were fused. He removed a sharp instrument from one of the pockets and cut around the spot, leaving a ragged ring of gray fabric around his thigh, just above the knee. With the suit gone, he saw that the change to his appendage was extensive. His foot was now composed of a dark, glistening substance that seemed both plant and animal like in appearance. This dark matter engulfed the leg to the middle thigh, with threads branching upward toward his waist.

As jolting as it might seem to someone who happened upon him, the change no longer worried Watley. He had come to accept it and even wonder at the transformation. What would it look like tomorrow? In a week? Would he even be Watley any more or would he become something better? Evolved.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The drizzle intensified to a steady rain and this time, began to sting his flesh. He sought the shelter of the barn and entered the wide, open doors. Although it was dim, he was still able to see debris strewn about on the floor. On the left and right were large holes in the walls through which a moderate breeze whistled. At eye level, hanging in midair was a child’s backpack. This unnatural sight alarmed Watley at first, but then he understood that it was not floating, just suspended by dark vines running through the shoulder straps, thus giving the illusion of levitation.

When his sight had fully adjusted to the murky interior, Watley observed the plantlike structure more closely. It appeared similar to the things from the hospital…the humanoids.

Humanoids…

Mo had called them that.

Mo…

“Christ,” mumbled Watley. “I left him there.” He remembered they had been trapped in the hospital. Pacing, he contemplated his partner’s fate, blaming himself for departing.

Behind him arose a noise. He was deep in thought however and did not at first notice. Once he stopped pacing, Watley heard the shifting whispers of movement. He turned and witnessed a bundle of leaves unfurling. Wondering how he had failed to notice this characteristic of the vegetation before, Watley stared in amazement at the graceful, sentient stirring. It knew he was there. Now, he noted the edges of the unfolding leaves, outlined by faint white light, as if inside was a lit candle. It reminded him of the flickering glow of a jack-o-lantern.

Fully opened, the leaves revealed their secret to Watley and he stood face to face with a human skull. Sparse clusters of hair still clung from it, along with the remnants of dry, aged tissue. The center of the face had dissolved into a glowing white sphere, with particles of the disintegrated bone hovering in orbit around the twinkling light.

Mesmerized, Watley stood in awe of the thing. The pulsating orb seemed to impart an unspoken message that his mind eagerly received. He could not immediately comprehend it, but some other part of his mind did; a part that was foreign to Watley, but that he suspected he’d become intimate with before long.

He nodded in agreement to the directive and reasoned that what was happening to him was necessary. What he had been was meaningless, it was what he would become that was profound.