Falling

Hungry hungry hungry hungry hungry

This was not where they were supposed to be. Wrong destination, a crash landing. Their companions boiled on the hot ground. Only they had survived. And now there was a host.

The host was easy to take, its fear and panic clouding its mind. They were able to grab control while it floundered in its own skin. This host was vastly different from any host they'd had before. It was of high intelligence, an advanced species.

But that didn't matter. It had a basic digestive system and they were hungry. They could worry about everything else later.

Prey was nearby. They pumped power into the host, claws and teeth strengthening and sharpening. Weak as they were, this was the best they could do.

It was time to hunt.

Arthur felt nothing but an all-consuming hunger. The fear was washed away as the pain of starvation swept over him. His body moved on its own and Arthur could only watch through a cloudy haze. His body needed food and he- they- would get it.

Through the trees, searching, hunting. There. Easy prey. Standing, grazing unaware.

Arthur's body lept onto the animal, black claws slashing at its throat. The prey fell, screaming and gurgling in its sudden death throes. It died quickly, but not quick enough to feel pieces missing as Arthur started to eat.

Blood poured down his throat and Arthur moaned as it hit his stomach. The warm flesh was easily bitten off and swallowed. The hunger started to lessen, but it wasn't enough.

He needed something more. His body followed a wonderful smell that came from the head. Black claws pierced the skull and split it open. Warm grey and white matter turned to pulp in his mouth, spinal fluid dripped between his fingers.

This was what they needed.

Arthur continued to eat in bliss, giddy with delight. Finally full, Arthur flopped onto his back. Awareness returned to him slowly.

He was full, the meal had been good.

What had he eaten?

He'd gone hunting?

He must have, his hands were covered in blood.

Where was his camp?

There was no fire?

Raw.

He'd eaten the animal raw.

Arthur jolted back up into a sitting position, eyes landing on the gruesome carcass of his last meal.

Arthur turned onto his hands and knees and gagged. His body tried to expel the contents of his stomach, but something wrapped around his stomach and clamped it shut. Arthur was left to dry heave on the ground. The nausea passed, but he felt no better.

Lying on the ground, half-eaten, skull ripped apart, was Rachel.

Arthur took a deep breath that turned into a half-choked sob. He'd killed his horse. He killed and ate his horse. His girl, who always came when he whistled. Who stood steady in a firefight. His palomino who nibbled on his hair and nosed at his pockets looking for sugar cubes.

He'd killed her and she never saw it coming. Probably died in terror wondering why her master was the one to turn on her.

"Oh, girl. My girl."

Arthur crawled to her hunching over her cooling body, running his hands through her mane.

"What did I do. Oh God, what did I do?"

Something rumbled in the back of his mind. Arthur gasped at the sound. The black ooze. It had seeped into him. Crawled inside and made him eat Rachel.

"Get- get out."

The thing rolled inside him, almost exploring.

"GET OUT!"

It stilled and a feeling stuttered into Arthur's mind. There were no words, but they were not needed. It screamed one thought at him.

Mine