There's a conspiracy – not too well known – that the human skin is a parasite that evolved with us. That we are spiritual, or ethereal beings, who were not to be bound by the material coil, but the parasite that was our skin kept us chained.

To the virus who wore the face of Alex Mercer, he was exactly that. A parasite, one that consumed the flesh of others, and trapped their memories beneath the countless layers of biomass, woven into a morbid machina – The Web of Intrigue. 

The Monster of Manhattan, though hailed as a hero by many, was claimed by countless priests to be the devil's last stand before the rapture, and he aware of just how unholy, unnatural his existence was.

"Alex, get your lazy ass here and help me clean the house!"

And here he was, being used as a carjack to lift furniture so that 'his' sister could clean the dirt that accumulated under them, all while Takeshi's Castle played on the TV in the background.

"For the last time, we don't own a house. This is an apartment." Alex grumbled, though internally, he was amused. 

Currently, he had assumed the shape of Alex. And he meant shape as in the whole body, not just his face. So he wasn't a lump of sentient, viral biomass, but rather, a flesh-and-blood being with nerves and organs.

Not that he needed those organs, but helped make him more... human. A lump of biomass doesn't need to breathe, it doesn't have any reactions, and it doesn't have a body language, so it creeped others out.

And honestly, he preferred it this way. Normally, wearing the corpse of someone else to infiltrate and replace them in their families like a changeling of fae mythos would disturb him deeply. 

But with Alex James Mercer, he could not care less. If anything, he revelled in schadenfreude.

'Suck it, dad.'

Turning his attention back to Dana, he added, "And you know, these aren't really dirt, more so dead skin cells you've shed over the years–"

"Ugh, can't you save your science talks until after we have finished cleaning the house?" Dana groaned, clearly not in a good mood. She sniffled, and rubbed her runny nose, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes, which were bloodshot.

Alex could understand. While he couldn't emulate having a cold, he did indeed spend an entire month as a woman. And he had to admit – menstruation was not fun.

For Dana to be suffering a cold exactly at that time of the month was bound to be hell.

He almost felt bad enough to inform her that he could consume the dead skin cells around the apartment in less than a minute, cleaning it with perfect ease.

But of course, he was a good big brother. And he would save his science talk for after they were done cleaning.

He was just such a lovely brother.

And so, they two fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the television and the sweeping of the broom being the only sound playing.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Something Alex remembered in the most harrowing of ways possible, as the television screen glitched violently, causing the siblings to glance at its direction.

The broken static cut to a shaky feed of what seemed to be an emergency broad cast. The voice of a disheveled reporter crackled to life, his clothes torn, his eyes bloodshot and teary with a runny nose.

He looked far worse off than Dana, and Alex was mostly certain he wasn't even going through menstruation.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"This is– this is WBCN news! Reporting live from Boston, Massachusetts!" The reporter shouted in a raised pitch at the mic, barely composed as his spit flew across the room, "Oh– oh god, It's happening again! It's happening again!"

The camera wobbled in hands clearly trembling, revealing a chaotic newsroom. Papers littered the floor, and terrified staff members darted around in the background. 

A distant shockwave thundered, shaking the building and causing the reporter to clutch the desk for balance, while the sounds of people screaming nearly drowned out the reporter.

“The virus – the Blacklight Virus – it’s here! It's back!' he shouted, his words tumbling over each other. “It’s spread across the city! Quincy, Revere, Cambridge – they’re gone! People... people are changing!” His voice dropped into a horrified whisper. “They’re turning into– into–  zombies! Monsters!"

He gripped the desk tighter, his knuckles white. “The National Guard... Blackwatch… they’ve quarantined us! All the bridges, all the tunnels – they’ve sealed us off! The harbor’s barricaded! There’s no way out!” 

His voice cracked, his jaw trembling. The tears pooling at the corner of his eyes were now cascading down his chin uncontrollably.

“They’re calling it containment, but it’s not containment—it’s a death sentence! They’re leaving us to die!” 

Slamming his fist against the desk, he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes wide, his pupils constricted and quivering. “Please! If anyone out there is watching – listen to me! Help us! Please!" 

Slowly, he started to sob as she spoke.

"The monsters, the infected – they’re everywhere! I saw my– my neighbor’s body split open, and this thing—it just crawled out of her! They’re swarming the streets! It’s worse than Manhattan! There’s nothing stopping them this time!”

Off-camera, muffled screams rose above the chaos. The reporter flinched, his voice climbing higher. “If anyone’s out there – please, I’m begging you – don’t abandon us! They'll come for you next! This madness needs to stop before it spreads beyond Boston!”

Suddenly, he froze for a moment, his face crumpling as his wide, frantic eyes locked on the camera. “The Monster of Manhattan...,” he whispered hoarsely. “You... you stopped it before, didn’t you? If you’re still out there... if you’re still alive... please.” His voice broke completely. “We need you.”

The screen flickered again, the static consuming his face. His final words echoed faintly, distorted by the malfunctioning feed. “Save us, please...”

The screen dissolved into white pixels, leaving only a faint buzzing in the air. The room fell silent.

"...Well, I guess we know what we are doing this weekend?" Dana tried to lighten the atmosphere, and failed miserably as Alex refused to reply, his gaze still focused on the television screen.

His knuckles had turned white from how hard he clenched them, and his eyes were dilated to their extremity. His breathing grew slightly ragged, hackles standing upright on his neck.

This scared Dana. Afterall, she knew how powerful her 'brother' was. He could throw tanks at helicopters, and destroy entire, reinforced buildings and hives in mere moments with his spikes and tendril move.

Hell, he survived a nuke point blank. The heat of a newborn sun couldn't kill him.

So what exactly was it, that made Alex react in such a way?

As rude as it sounded, she sure hoped it trauma, and nothing else.

"Dana," Alex's deep, monotonous voice snapped her out of her thoughts, "Get in the chair. Find me an optimal route to Boston.

"H– huh?" Dana stammered, "Wait, what do you mean by the optimal route?"

Alex, who was currently climbing out of the window, halted to explain, "If I ran at my full speed, the sonic boom could destroy infrastructure, rupture eardrums, and kill people from shock."

Dana flinched at the image, but Alex went on, "Find out the route I can take to get there the fastest, and by causing minimal damage." Pausing, he added, "I trust your skills with technology."

Seeing Alex about to leave, Dana finally snapped out of her stunlock and yelled in a high-pitched voice, "Wait wait wait, do you at least know what caused this? I thought only you had the blacklight virus!"

Alex stilled, heaving a deep sigh. "You wouldn't understand, but we might be up against a bigger threat than even me."

"What!?" Dana exclaimed, her voice high as a kite. "How? What? Who?"

Alex smiled grimly, "Who else?"

Her eyes widened. "You mean..."

Alex nodded gravely in response.

"Code Name: Pariah!"

—·—·—·—·—

Hello! My name is Serpentine, and I am the writer! This is my first published fanfiction, but there may soon be more. 

Doctor Who's perspective and chapter might be chapter two, so hold onto your seats, my dear ladies and bros, and non-binary hoes.

Want to support me? Y O U C A N ' T !

Well, at least not until March 29th, 2025. By then, I'll try to publish the books I write here as Ebooks, Paperback, Hardcover, Audiobooks, et cetera.

But if you still want to support me, there's a simple thing you can do.

You see, there's an event going on in a discord server to get as many people possible to support the Kickstarter Campaign. So, uh, if you are interested, check out 'my website.'

And if you have money to spare, either get yourself a treat or pledge 4$. No in-between.

Help me win that free comic book please.