image [https://i.imgur.com/bRjPKDV.png]

For the rest of my shift, I was lost in a deep fog, haunted by the sight of that little wasp emerging from my flesh. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the wasp staring back at me, like it was meant to be there. Like it knew something I didn’t. Like the worst had yet to come.

Loading myself into the cab of my truck, I was sick with terror, hands trembling on the steering wheel. When I dug my phone out from my pocket, my fingers were so shaky, I could hardly steady them long enough to call Mercy, but even then it didn’t matter: three calls in and not a single one broke past voicemail. My stomach lurched painfully.

But though I wasn’t fit for any kind of company, I had to see her; no matter how deep I sank, Mercy was always the one to throw out a life raft. On the way to her house, I rehearsed the conversation mentally as if I could find a way to phrase it that didn’t seem as fucked up as it was.

Mercy, we need to talk. No.

Mercy, I have to tell you something. No.

Mercy, I have a confession to ma— Oh God, that was the worst one yet.

My mind was racing so fast, I nearly got into three accidents on the way over. The adrenaline of dodging T-bones and fender benders only made my nerves worse, and when I finally rolled up to the curb of Mercy’s house, it was a miracle I arrived all in one piece. I practically toppled out of my truck, the world around me quivering and dark at the edges.

Scrambling up the front steps of Mercy’s house, I was so out of it that I hadn’t even noticed Joanna until I bumped into her on her way out to the patio. She was so surprised to see me, she hadn’t even had time to scowl.

“Where’s Mercy?” I asked desperately. “I… I need to talk to her. Right now.”

Joanna wrinkled her nose. “Wow, don’t you look fresh from the crack den today?”

Just as she tried to leave, I grabbed Joanna’s arm firmly to keep her in place. “Don’t fucking play with me today, Joanna. You’re always a bitch to me, and I’m sick of it. Show me some fucking respect.”

“Fuck you,” she growled. She wasn’t remotely intimidated. “Take it off, or I’ll break it off.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nearly gagged. Her perfume was layered on so thickly, I could taste it, and being in such close proximity to her was worsening my headache. I never paid close attention before, but I’d known Joanna long enough to know that she wasn’t the type to wear that kind of stuff. She was hiding something, but right now, I could hardly even think straight enough to stand.

From around the corner, Mercy raced over to see what all the commotion was about. Cleo was right behind her, and they both blinked at the sight of me as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Manny?” Mercy stared. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

“He’s just being a fucking freak as usual,” Joanna spat, ripping her arm away from me. “Go have your spaz attack somewhere else and leave normal people out of it, psycho.”

I clenched my teeth in a horrible snarl. “What the fuck did I just say?”

“Stop it! Both of you, just stop!” Mercy commanded, putting her hands on her hips. “Manny, what’s gotten into you— wait, did you come straight from the station?”

With the heat off of her now, Joanna skulked away, disappearing past the screen door. As if she’d been waiting for Joanna to make her exit, Cleo came out of the kitchen to stand beside Mercy, but she seemed hesitant to come any closer to me.

“Tío?” Her voice was soft and uneasy. “Are you okay?”

It was a question I had no answer to. I glanced from her to Mercy, swallowing thickly as I looked to her with pleading eyes. Sensing that something serious was going on, Mercy dug her car keys out of her purse and handed them to Cleo.

“Nenita, why don’t you go wait outside?” She closed Cleo’s fingers around the keys. “This won’t take long, baby, I promise.”

Something about Cleo’s expression seemed conflicted, but she was obedient all the same. On her way out, she shot me one last worried look before she left us alone.

Immediately, Mercy turned to look right at me. “Manny?”

“I— I’m sorry, I know you’ve got shit going on, but…” I tried not to sound desperate, but it was pointless. “I— I don’t even know where to begin—”

“Slow down, you’re scaring me.” She crossed her arms, concern written all over her. “What’s this all about?”

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

I closed my eyes, and there was the wasp’s face again, watchful and menacing; again, I started to hyperventilate. Tenderly, Mercy took my wrist and led me to the kitchen, guiding me to take a seat across from her at the table. While she moved the fruit bowl away to give us more space on the table’s surface, I did whatever I could to steady the air that left my lungs. Inhale, exhale, I chanted to myself.

Inhale…

Exhale.

“Something is happening to me,” I said.

Mercy withheld a response, watching me closely with pursed lips.

“I— I don’t know how to describe it…” It wasn’t funny, but I laughed anxiously anyway. “Lately, I just, all these things I can’t explain, and I—I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

As I covered my face with one hand, Mercy reached for the other from across the table and gave it a slow, rhythmic squeeze. “Shh,” she hushed gently. “Just tell me what’s happening.”

Not even Mercy’s skin against mine brought me comfort. Instead, I felt more pathetic than I’d ever felt before, yet if she pulled away, it would’ve shattered my heart into pieces. It was so humiliating to be laid out before her like this.

As the memories of last night flooded my mind, I was victim to a twisted highlights reel, images of blood on my hands and the searing pain of cutting into my flesh. No matter which part I tried to focus on, I always returned to the wasp staring right through me, black eyes like sinister little jewels.

Inhale, exhale.

“There was this, this bug, in my arm,” I said, each word a struggle. “Just yesterday, just— hours ago—”

“A bug?!” Mercy couldn’t help but raise her voice. “Like a parasite? Oh my God—”

“No! It wasn’t like that, it was like… it was like it came from me. Inside of me.” With my other hand, I touched my arm right where the wasp had crawled out. “Like it was part of me.”

“… Like a parasite?” She repeated.

If I hadn’t still been holding Mercy’s hand, I would’ve slammed my fist on the table. “Stop it with the fucking parasites!”

That same old buzzing began again in my ears, surging hotly in my body. It started at my neck and spread across the crown of my head, as if the place where my skull met my spine was home to a time bomb. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was constant and relentless.

“It doesn’t matter what it was ‘cause it’s— it’s gone now,” I continued, in spite of the buzzing. “Whatever it was… I cut it out of me.”

“You— with a knife?” Mercy’s other hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh my God, Manny—”

“What was I supposed to do, let it stay inside me?!” I said defensively. “It was coming out whether I wanted it to or not— all I did was speed up the process, okay? Look, I’ll show you where it was, you’ll see!”

Immediately, I ripped my sleeve back to reveal the bandage Garrett had fixed onto my arm. Mercy didn’t even have time to object, watching in horror as I tore it right off, but that horror changed to complete shock - for both of us.

There was nothing underneath it.

No lump,

no wound,

not even a scar.

It was like nothing had even happened.

Mercy’s eyes darted back from my arm to my face, where beads of sweat had formed from the tension. The buzzing in my brain was starting to drown out everything around us except for the sound of Mercy’s breath as it left her lips. She cleared her throat.

“Manny,” she said slowly, “I think you need to talk to your therapist.”

I couldn’t even argue against that. I simply swallowed, fixated on my arm and its lack of… anything. I ran my fingers across it, but even through touch, you couldn’t tell that anything had been there.

Silently, Mercy pulled her hand away from mine. Her fearful gaze cut me to the core, and I hated myself for it. My lip curled as I yanked my sleeve back over my arm. “I’m not fucking crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were crazy.” Mercy was obviously choosing her words very carefully. “But you do seem… stressed.”

Enraged, I stood up from the chair so quickly, it toppled backwards. “Stressed?! You think I’m just fucking stressed?!”

Out of instinct, Mercy recoiled, leaning back in her chair to put space between us. The sight of her fear made me sick to my stomach, so I took a deep breath to collect myself.

“I— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… something’s up with me, Mercy. I know it is.” I shut my eyes, unable to look at her. “I don’t know what, but it’s not in my head. I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.”

Once it was clear my outburst was over, Mercy rose from her chair, reaching to cup my face in her hand. I placed my hands gently on her wrists and leaned into her touch.

She brought me close into a hug, rubbing my back to soothe me, but my body was so tense it was like she was clinging to a rock. After a moment, I pulled back to look into her eyes.

“I’m not like him,” I whispered. “Tell me I’m not like him.”

Mercy gazed at me delicately. “Manny…”

“Please.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please—”

With an agonized creak, the kitchen door opened as Joanna returned from her smoke break. When she saw us together, she clicked her tongue as if she found this completely unsurprising, then left without further comment.

As if broken free from a spell, Mercy pulled away from me and turned to grab her purse. In the absence of her touch, I felt lonelier than ever, but I knew that the cure for whatever ailed me wasn’t within her arms.

“I’m sorry, I really am, but I really need to head out. Cleo’s already late for school, and I seriously can’t afford to written up again at work.” She straightened out her office clothes and readjusted one of her earrings in preparation. “We’ll talk more about this later, okay?”

I frowned bitterly. What was there left to talk about? The way I saw it, the argument was over: I’d failed to make my case, and she’d surely drawn a conclusion I had no hope of overturning. Rather than continue pretending she could ever understand, I stormed out of the kitchen.

Right as I got out onto the porch, Cleo jumped up from her place on the bench. “Tío!” She reached for my sleeve. “What’s happening? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Not now, Cleo.” I yanked my arm away from her grasp. “I have to go.”

She snatched her hand back in surprise, staring up at me anxiously. “You’re gonna be okay, right?”

I didn’t bother saying anything back. All I could do was ruffle Cleo’s hair, just a little bit, before I stomped down the stairs and made my way to the curb. She made no effort to try and follow, choosing instead to watch from the porch as Mercy followed out after me.

As I got into my truck, Mercy tried to call out to me, but whatever she said was drowned out by the hive in my head.