>: Be me >: thrallborne. >: Vectored by a master infiltrator. >: stealthy as fuck >: slipped right into the summer palace >: infested a princess. >: Court never figured it out! >: Three instars pass >: fending for myself >: totally parasite-mastering. >: One day a hive nurse shows up, starts tending to me >: it’s another infiltrator. >: Court’s face when princess’s favorite maid was a bug and no one noticed.
>: Nurse nags me the whole time I’m there inside princess guts >: keeps telling me I gotta take her place >: nom her up piece by piece >: not even philosophers could tell us apart >: Op. 3 ‘Puppetmaster,’ concerto for strings.
>: Just kidding! >: Princess gets hypnotized by another infiltrator one day >: just walked over to the hive after that. >: ‘What was even the point,’ oil on canvas.
>: Whatever >: grow up the warrens >: wind up melding with princess anyway >: not that there’s much left of her, y’know. >: But it’s cute making repletes serve me tea and curtsy. >: Eventually finish eating the princess >: shell up in a cocoon and wait to morph.
>: Be imago >: surrogates tell me it’s time to get a job >: or hop in the ol’ amber bath. >: Honestly might be cute to slumber, waiting for some charmer to come and wake me with a kiss. >: Could you kiss a bug in amber? >: Whatever, probably awful for my shell’s complexion anyway.
>: Annouce I’ll be an infiltrator just like my vector and my nurse >: might as well >: ’s what I was groomed for anyway. >: Wiggle my antennae and say I’m already trained for court intrigue >: sweeten the deal >: persuation-mastering. >: Surrogate laughs in my face. >: The nerve! >: Give her my iciest hmph and storm off.
>: Get first assignment >: nowhere near the court. >: I don’t even get any servants! >: Supposed to be pretending to be some temple maiden >: Mostly just sweeping pews and pouring water on all the strangler vines. >: Sleep on a stiff block of wood and eat grain-slop every morning. >: ‘My Humiliation,’ a play in three acts.
>: Humans fucking suck, by the way. >: Didn’t notice as princess >: ’cause the other nobles at least had the courtesy not to bother me. >: But here? >: Seven daily prayer >: two meals surrounded by yapping mouths >: men stopping me twenty six times a day just to ask for directions or to do a quick favor or for a meaningless damn blessing.
>: Smile more, girl >: take my hand >: give me a hug >: fix your dress >: cover those legs >: you missed a spot >: dear >: honey >: sweetie >: fuck you!
>: The mice who cook the meals are okay.
>: But you get the point. >: ‘Agony of Human Existence,’ marble chiseled and grinded. >: Something’s got to give.
>: Start sneaking out of the cloister every night. >: Get caught once but pretend I got lost heading to the bathroom. >: Humans use the bathroom so often >: yuck!
>: Outside now >: fresh mountain air >: little stream runing below the temple >: tastes chalky like limestone. >: Few minutes of fleeing taking a break from the temple and the path gets steep. >: Lots of sharp drops, gnarly places to fall.
>: Start wondering if I should ask the surrogate to let me fake a jump >: maybe pretend my maiden girl disguise caught a bad case of evil spirit possession. >: But the hive does need me here >: “Infiltrators are our first line of defense.” >: Don’t I fucking know it. >: ‘Story Of My Life,’ volume one.
>: But it’s not all deadly drops and treacherous corkscrew trails out here. >: Follow the stream and the upshot (downshot, really) of the steepness is that there’s waterfall into a little pond >: little fence of bushes all around it.
>: Sit there every other night pretty much >: soaking in the cool misty air >: relaxation-mastering. >: Tug on the silkline back to the hive and pray for a response >: (Dumb human superstitions already infecting me.) >: Surrogate told me hivebinding’s too dangerous when there’s alchemists and divines in the temple.
>: She could just cut me off though >: doesn’t happen >: probably realized it’s more dangerous if I really lose it >: haha >: genuinely. >: the day this line gets cut is the day I tell the mice not to come to church service tomorrow.
>: The screaming would start as soon as they see me >: not because of the bug stuff >: first chance I get, these robes are shredded! >: ‘As the day she was born,’ study from life.
>: anyway, tonights for the quiet and chill stream. >: Leave the robes on the trail >: hangs on a branch, wind-tussled >: because really >: if I drop on the ground I won’t resist stomping them into the mud >: let the silk from my hair and play across my skin. >: Grown out enough at this point to weave a little rope-web from head to toe and down every limb. >: ‘Home Sickness’, excerpts from a diary, never published.
>: Lean over the lightly rippling water >: gaze into my reflection >: the reflection of my human skin-shell, rather >: yuck! >: Kick my foot till the waters are splashy and turbulent >: leave foot dipping in the cool water.
>: “Didn’t know girls like you were courting blasphemy these days.” >: some nasally voice behind me. >: “And this close to a temple, too!”
>: Spook so hard my mandibles slice open my skinsuit’s lips just a little >: who the fuck is this? >: when did they get here? >: what are they doing here?
>: Turn around around and see him. >: ‘Some guy,’ ink on parchment. >: Red hair and pale skin >: one hand on hip, one behind his back >: feather in cap. >: Already tired of him.
>: “By the ocean!” I shriek. “Do you make a habit of peeping on girls bathing!? Who raised you!” >: Indignation-mastering.
>: “Nice acting. C’mon, if you wanted privacy why strip this close to the trail? Pretty foolish… unless you wanted to get caught.” >: Finally revealed his other hand >: my damn robes. >: “Don’t cover up now, it’s a good show. Don’t worry, I’m sweet on girls like you.”
>: “Girls like me?” >: wasn’t just trying to cover the fat-sacs >: currently naked enough he might see the extra limbs twitching under my chest >: too on edge to care that much really >: drop it. >: He just whistles. >: My swiftest sorrow.
>: “You’re tied up like a plump little present. Is that lace? Please, I know what you dance for.” >: Takes a step closer and reaches into his pocket >: almost tear my claws out and show him what a real lunge looks like >: he pulls out a coin >: “Don’t worry. I’m not the type of man to take without giving, if that’s what has you on edge.”
>: “Sir, I beg you. I am but a humble daughter of Our Lady Lemartha, I don’t—”
>: “Easy now, sweet thing. You’re really sticking to character, huh? But… maybe you are a temple girl. Or maybe you’re both. I suppose that’s between you and the vines.” >: Another step closer. >: Another calculation of whether the hive can cover for me snapping outright. >: “I’d like a closer look, and you clearly know how to get around town. I’m sure a few coins in your straps will show my appreciation? You are such a cute one.”
>: “Sir, I’m warning you. If you touch me, I… I bite.” >: Hive gave me nectarblood rations when I set out >: but that’s the thing about rationing: >: it’s to stop dying >: not stop craving.
>: “Wrow. Knew you weren’t an innocent little temple girl.” >: Damn fool kept walking forward! >: Sorry, surrogate. >: Sorry, queen. >: “I bring out the worst in you. Tempation himself, aren’t I?”
>: You have no idea. >: “I can’t hide it much longer. Not if you look closer. If you keep looking… you’ll see why I couldn’t stay in the temple.” >: Had to close my mouth there, lest I regret what came out next. >: Bile or laughter >: I wasn’t sure. >: ‘Story of My Life,’ volume two.
>: “Oh girl, I want to see everything.”
>: Hahahaha >: ‘Consumation,’ a song for two voice. >: “With pleasure, my fool.” >: This time, I’m stepping forward >: body draped in silk netting >: bitter-tinged drool wetting my lips.
>: He still draws closer >: helpless stupid thing >: I growl and he laughs >: call and response — wolf’s and fear’s respectively. >: Reach out before he does >: grab his wrists >: nails digging in >: does he notice how sharp they are?
>: Smile more, dear >: grin now, dear >: wider, wider >: teeth bare >: teeth open >: snarl now >: real mouth’s finally visible behind the well-sculpted façade.
>: Could have moved faster really >: Could have caught him unawares >: could have made it… painless.
>: But that scream was everything to me >: like that, I remember who I really am.
>: Just like all the catered tea parties this cloister lacks >: like the unheard songs heralding my advance >: like the absent maids to bathe and adorn me. >: Except this was more than that! >: a courtesy even my iterant pretend-court of drones humoring me couldn’t offer.
>: This? >: I kicked him with more than a girl’s strength >: right where he’d already gotten stiff and excited. >: He screams delightfully again. >: Legs fold and go weak.
>: This… >: this was prey kneeling low before the superior caste.
>: Let go of him >: free my arms to slash and swipe and stab stab stab. >: Coo softly at him: >: “Isn’t this what you wanted? One of us inside the other?” >: Thrusting, pressing, shoving >: have to squeeze, though. >: The gashes these claws make are pretty tight.
>: “Stop! Stop! Please!” >: is that a wail?
>: I click my mandles together. >: “None of that, c’mon now. You said you knew what this was.”
>: “No! I th-th-thought…”
>: “Hmm, no, I don’t think you did enough of that.” >: I still haven’t managed to squeeze my fist into his chest cavity. >: “Listen, I have an offer. Want to hear?” >: He can only nod, wordless. >: “I have some venom in my fangs. It’ll take the pain away. Send you right to sleep, and this will all be a bad dream.”
>: “P-please.”
>: “But you have to do something for me, okay?” >: Remove the fingers wiggling inside him now >: bring them up to his lips >: apply a red coat >: “Call me your princess.”
>: “I — w-what?”
>: “Or I finish killing you.” >: I sounded bored >: not desperate >: wasn’t like I needed this.
>: “My—my—my princess…”
>: “Tell me you love me.”
>: “I… lov…”
>: “Tell me you’ll serve me.”
>: “…serv…”
>: “How pitiful. You’re falling asleep without my help. But I guess that means it was sincere, doesn’t it? Good exy.” >: smile >: grin >: snarl >: “But I wanted to bite you anyway!”
>: Fang tips glide into flesh >: still throbbing with that panic-pulse. >: Don’t forget the proboscis! >: Wrap that throat like you’re throttling him >: sink every needle-tooth in >: and drink! >: Drink your fill!
>: Oh, the metallic tang >: the flow of protein-thick lifeblood >: not even nectar-tinged yet >: but almost as rich as tea.
>: Drop my hand >: tear up his stupid shirt >: shove my fist in with renewed determination >: feel the entrails twist and slink in my grasp >: soft wet handfuls.
>: “I’ve got to admit, you did show me a good time, tonight.” >: Pull out >: feel the warm dripping in the night air. >: “But I do need to finish bathing here. Mm, I think you’ll help with that, actually.” >: Already felt cleaner than after any annointing ablution.
>: Be me >: raised by infiltrators >: train whole life to be an infiltrator >: selected to be an infiltrator. >: Taste fresh blood once >: realize I was meant to be a hunter all along >: that feel when.
>: ‘Story of My Life,’ epilogue.
>: But maybe >: just maybe >: I could endure staying at the cloister >: if I really could be temple girl and a street girl at once >: capturing fresh prey for the hive >: fresh, delicious meat.
>: Think anyone heard the scream?