More Fiction

Copyright 2015 by Jack Bragen

I sipped my after work microwaved instant coffee in the gold lamplight, and the clock atop my bookcase showed it was well after midnight.  A lone, formidable-looking spider climbed from a crack in the sheetrock, and meandered its way toward the ceiling, probably in search of some mites to feed on. 
     Why was I so restless? 
     Abruptly, I heard a scrunch-scrunch coming from within my right ear canal. 
     Ordinarily, the solitude and peace of being alone in my tiny apartment after another shift at Wal-Mart made me happy. 
     Scrunch, scrunch. 
     Surely it was a bit of congestion in my ear.  I had earwax remover stuff in the medicine cabinet.  I flipped the bathroom light switch and the halogen bulb flashed and was dead. 
     Vertigo.  I grabbed hold of the doorway to steady myself, then with effort, made it to my chair, and sat down heavily. 
     Caa-runch. 
     Damn, something was wrong with me.  I reached for my cellphone and my arm was awkward--the phone dropped to the floor.  I wanted to pick it up and call 9-1-1, but I couldn't get up from the chair.
     "Can you hear me?"  a voice emanated from the middle of my head. 
     "Who's there?"  my voice came out crackly and faint.  Something was wrong with me.  Was I having a stroke? 
     "You have such a good brain, why Wal-Mart?" 
     I said, "Where are you and who are you?"  My eyesight was faded, and my heart pounded. 
     "No matter.  The takeover will commence shortly.  Meanwhile, turn on your television and put it on CNN." 
     Without my volition, my arm picked up the remote, turned on the television, then switched it to the news. 
     "Breaking News... Humans taken over by intelligent worms..."  The afterhours newscaster had a greenish worm emerging from her eyelid, apparently coming from behind her eye.  It wiggled its way down her face, down her neck, and then crawled into her shirt. 
     "We owe a debt of gratitude to our human hosts who have made our success as a species possible.  If you are a human watching this, you should know that we will refrain from eating some of you so that you can provide for us and help us create our new civilization..." The worm infested newscaster paused and seemed as though struggling to lift her hand to her head, then the impulse visibly ceased.  "If you cooperate, we will allow you to have a full three hours a day--free of control!  We are very magnanimous." 
     I spotted a pair of antique, sharp-pointed scissors on my desk in a penholder.  I wanted to gouge this thing out of my head.
     "No, you won't do that.  I won't let you."  The voice in my head had become louder, more distinct.  I concluded that I couldn't move except when the thing in my head wanted me to. 
     The spider that had made its way to the ceiling was now headed back toward the crack in the sheetrock.  Two greenish worms emerged from behind a wall poster and gave chase toward the spider.  They caught up with it, wrapped around it, and made it a quick meal. 
     The voice in my head (presumably that of a worm) said, "Such is life..." 

End.