ALBERTEAUX

I'm Brave

There was a neat little ring of dead wasps on my porch. I recognized them. They'd been building their nest above our door for weeks. And now they were dead. I opened the door and closed it behind me. The living room was a mess. My little sister had left things everywhere. I picked up her dishes and put them in the sink quickly, then looked at my hands. The dishes were covered in ants, I saw them. But my hands weren't. I looked in the sink. All the ants were dead. Looking up, the ceiling had its usual trail, alive and moving. Except for one dead section in the middle of the ceiling. I moved on to the next trail, it usually crosses just above the entrance to the hall. To either side, the ant trail moved back and forth in its usual effective little highway. But directly above the hall entrance, there was a line of stationary little fire ants. I looked to the left wall of the hall, just above where it met the ground. This ant trail, the longest one, always moved from the living room all the way to my little sister's room in the very back. Every night, I would wipe it away with chemicals. And every afternoon, it would already be back stronger than ever. Until now, as the industrious little workers were frozen in line on my wall. Dead. All of them. All the way to little Kayla's room. Her door was closed, hiding the end of the line of dead ants. I knew Kayla didn't kill them. She was useless. I reached out a hand to turn the knob, but froze with my fingers just inches away. It was cold. The doorknob to Kayla's room was so cold, I could feel it before I'd even touched it. When I grabbed it, it felt colder than ice. The door creaked open and a bone chillingfreezer-like breeze came out.

Kayla laid sprawled-out peacefully on her bed. She was only eight, but her bed was huge. The white of the sheets under her and partially over her gave a nice contrast that allowed to me take in much of the appearance of the pitch black shape hovering above her. It was large and spherical, and appeared to be made of a series of randomly shuffling curved lines and loops, as if some cosmic being had failed to draw something then scribbled it out in frustration. Most of it was its head. Assortments of twisted scribbles vaguely resembled disproportionate arms and legs reaching from somewhere below, but there was no torso. One of these hands had about three fingers, and was reaching down at Kayla's face curiously when I spoke.

"What are you doing?"

The shape instantly rotated so dim glowing white circles in the center of its head could face me.

"I was considering my compatibility with a potential vessel," it spoke without emotion through Kayla's sleeping mouth and in her voice, though without touching her. "What are you doing?" I looked intently at Kayla's face and chest. She still looked peaceful, and she was breathing. 

"Don't use her as a vessel. Use me. I'm older, I'm stronger and I'm smarter." Its head rotated back to Kayla. 

"No, you are not," Kayla said coldly. I stepped closer, and its eyes snapped back to me. I stayed in place. "What is your name?"

"Oda," I replied calmly.

"Oh," its eyes returned to Kayla again. "D. A."

"What's your name?" I asked as it started to reach its hand towards her face again. It stopped.

"A," Kayla said. "L. B. E. R. T. E. A. U. X. Alberteaux." It sounded like Alberto.

"Nice to meet you, Alberteaux." I stepped forward and reached for a handshake. Alberteaux looked at me, then down at my hand. It reached slowly upwards until a burning cold met my palm. I showed no pain as I shook Alberteaux's hand, though it felt like I was receiving a third degree burn. It finally drew its hand back, relieving my quivering hand, though I didn't want to let go. I wanted to hold its scalding hand forever, if it meant keeping said scalding from Kayla's face. It had started to turn back towards her when I realized I needed a better idea, and I needed it now. 

"I'm brave," I forced out at the last second before Alberteaux touched her. It floated from over the bed to right in front of me, staring into my soul with its dim circles.

"Yes," I spoke against my own will. "You are. And we are compatible." I sounded like a robot. An unnaturally calm Oda robot. I looked down at my hand. My palm was frozen black, and I couldn't move my fingers at all. At least it was so numb that it barely hurt. Some part of me then hoped being possessed by Alberteaux meant I would feel this way completely. Not just my body. Maybe it would numb my mind. Maybe this wouldn't be all that bad, I thought.

Then you are ready, Alberteaux thought in my head, in my voice.

I stripped naked and sat on my bed, looking up anxiously at the constantly morphing shape now filling most of my small room. 

Lay down. 

I did, and Alberteaux hovered directly over me, looking me over slowly and making me uncomfortable. 

This ritual requires blood, it told me. You are already bleeding. I will--

"NO!" I scrambled backwards as its hand reached for my crotch. I couldn't have cared less where it got my blood from, but that deadly hand was not about to freeze my vagina shut.

Very well, Alberteaux pulled its arm back behind it somewhere, then stared at my hands as I covered my privates. They suddenly felt wet, and not at all in a good way. I looked down and saw blood, but there was no way it came from in me. Blood was above my vagina and all over my thighs. I investigated and found that my wrists were draining blood. My eyes widened. Alberteaux had reopened very old, very deep scars on my inner forearm. All of them, all at once. From wrist to elbow. My heart raced like it hadn't in years. Blood was drenching my stomach and legs and bed sheets. I screamed as Alberteaux then grabbed my wrists in his scalding hands. They moved systematically and terrifyingly, smearing my blood in unholy symbols up my arms, shoulders and neck, then all over my face, down my breasts and stomach, and over what felt like every inch of my legs. Everything burned. So much. Moving in the slightest hurt so much, and screaming hurt so much, that I could only lay on my bed and jerk randomly and violently. Finally done drawing on me, Alberteaux plunged its hands within my sides, just under my rib cage. I vibrated with pure agony as it expertly rearranged my internal organs, and would have screamed despite how much screaming would hurt, if then the rest of it didn't plunge down my throat. I could feel everything as it shoved all its dense mass within my own skin and bones, filling every gap and violating every inch of me. It had been years since I'd even spoken to God, and even more since any words weren't hostile. But I begged him for help. I begged God to end this. To end me. Nothing was worth this pain. Nothing at all. Except... saving Kayla from it. Kayla. That's why I was doing this. For my little sister. She was safe now. 

Kayla.

K, I thought. 

A... 

Y... 

L... 

A. 

Kayla.