(PARASYTE X WORM) CHAPTER SIX

Taylor had conversations with herself sometimes. Everyone did, probably.

Little rehearsed arguments in the mirror. Mutters under her breath when she forgot something. Entire imaginary debates while lying awake at three in the morning because her brain refused to shut up long enough for sleep to happen. Taylor was unfortunately very experienced in that particular field.

This was different.

This was her hand talking back. Actually talking back.

Taylor sat against the wall with her knees half-drawn up, staring at the thing attached to the end of her arm while it stared back with an eye that absolutely should not have been there. Every few seconds, her brain tried to reject the entire scene outright. It was too ridiculous to process properly. Somehow, she had ended up with a talking parasite for a cape power, and it was currently living in her hand.

She laughed once under her breath, sharp and humorless, then immediately wished she hadn’t because the thing angled its eye toward her like it was confused.

“You are reacting strangely,” it said.

“You’re a mouth growing out of my hand,” Taylor snapped. “How else am I supposed to react?”

The mouth shifted slightly. “Fair.”

Taylor rubbed at her face with her left hand, then immediately stopped because even touching herself felt weird right now. Her skin no longer fully felt like hers, or maybe that was dramatic. She didn’t know anymore. Nothing about today had felt normal.

Nothing about the past few days, honestly.

She swallowed hard and looked back down at it.

“You said parasite.”

“Yes.”

“And you tried to…” She hesitated. Even saying it out loud sounded insane. “Take over my body?”

“Yes.”

Taylor stared.

The thing stared back.

“That’s it?” she asked. “Just yes?”

“You asked a question.”

“I know I asked a question!” Her voice cracked halfway through it. “But you can’t just casually say you tried to take over my body!”

The eye blinked slowly. “I failed.”

“Oh, good. Fantastic. That makes me feel way better.”

It seemed to consider that. “I do not think sarcasm assists either of us.”

Taylor let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan and pressed the heel of her left hand into her eyes. She genuinely felt like she might start crying. Or laughing. Or throwing up. Maybe all three.

Instead, she forced herself to keep talking.

“How?” she asked quietly. “How did this even happen?”

The parasite shifted slightly across the back of her hand, the extra finger-hand curling inward against her wrist.

“I was created,” it said.

Taylor frowned. “Created?”

“Yes.”

“By who?”

There was a brief pause.

Then:

“Amy Dallon.”

Everything in Taylor’s head stopped. And for a second, she thought she’d misheard.

“Amy…” she repeated blankly. “Panacea?”

“Yes.”

“No.” Taylor shook her head immediately. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.”

“She heals people.”

“She’s a biokinetic.”

Taylor opened her mouth, only to close it again.

The thing kept watching her calmly while her thoughts crashed into each other at full speed.

Panacea.

Brockton Bay’s golden girl. New Wave’s healer. The cape people trusted enough to let touch their bodies without hesitation.

Taylor suddenly felt cold.

“She made you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

That answer came quickly enough that Taylor almost believed it. “You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

“How do you not know why you were made?”

“I was not conscious immediately.”

Taylor’s stomach twisted.

The room felt too small. Her desk, the walls, the papers scattered near her bed. They all felt closer than it should have while her brain tried desperately to keep up with the conversation.

Panacea made a parasite.

A parasite that crawled into her arm.

A parasite that tried to overwrite her.

Taylor looked down at her right hand again and felt sick all over.

“You said you failed because you only got my hand.”

“Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You retained primary neurological control.”

Taylor blinked. “…English.”

The mouth twitched slightly. She couldn't tell if it was annoyed, mocking her, or neither. “I could not fully assimilate you before interruption.”

Taylor went very still as the memory surfaced instantly: pulling the cable tight around her arm until she blacked out.

“You mean the USB cable.”

“Yes.”

Silence settled after that.

Taylor stared at the floorboards near her bed while her thoughts dragged themselves into something vaguely coherent. She had actually stopped it. Somehow. Accidentally. Or maybe not accidentally. She didn’t even know.

After a moment, she asked quietly, “So what now?”

The eye on her hand blinked once. “We coexist.”

Taylor laughed again, softer this time, exhausted more than amused.

“Great,” she muttered. “Awesome. Love that for me.”

Her hand pursed its lips slightly. “You are distressed.”

“No shit.”

“I do not understand why.”

That pulled her head up immediately.

“You don’t understand why?” she repeated. “You’re a parasite living in my body!”

“Partially.”

Taylor stared at it for a long moment before letting her head thunk lightly back against the wall behind her.

Of course it corrected her.

Of course it did.