The silence was worse than the screaming.

  Forge pressed his back against the barricade he'd built, listening to nothing. Just his own breathing. His own heartbeat thundering in his ears. The complete absence of sound from the other room.

  Jonas had been screaming for minutes. Cursing. Threatening. Making promises about what he'd do to Hawth. To Forge. To everyone Forge had ever known.

  "I CAN SEE YOU NOW! YOUR TOWN IS GONNA PAY FOR THIS!"

  Then nothing. Just stopped. Mid-threat. Like someone had cut the sound.

  Forge waited. Counted his heartbeats. Tried to control his breathing. Listened for any indication of what was happening in Jonas's laboratory.

  Silence.

  What if it killed him? What if Jonas is dead and that thing is just waiting?

  Or worse. What if Jonas HAD gotten free somehow? What if he was creeping toward the door right now, preparing necromancy that would turn Forge into a shambling corpse?

  Forge's hand tightened on the knife he'd grabbed from Jonas's equipment. Dwarven steel. Good blade. Completely useless against a creature that had killed a troll and driven an entire gremlin village to mutual slaughter.

  But it was something. Better than nothing.

  More silence.

  Say something. Do something. I need to know what's happening.

  Forge's throat was dry. He swallowed. Tried to work moisture into his mouth. Finally managed to speak.

  "Jonas?" His voice came out rough. Too loud in the quiet. "You okay in there, buddy?"

  No response.

  Buddy. Like we're friends. Like he didn't just threaten to enslave my entire town.

  But what else was he supposed to say? The social niceties were automatic even when they made no sense.

  Still nothing from the other room.

  Forge waited another minute. Then another. His legs were cramping from the crouch. His back hurt from pressing against furniture. The knife handle was slick with sweat.

  I have to look. Have to know.

  He stood slowly. Quietly. Started moving furniture aside. The chair. The table. The shelf he'd dragged across the doorway. Each movement careful. Controlled. Trying not to make noise even though Jonas, or the creature, or whatever was in there probably knew exactly where he was.

  The barricade came down piece by piece. Forge's hands shook. He told himself it was exertion. Knew it was fear.

  Finally the door was accessible. Just wood between him and whatever waited on the other side.

  Forge gripped the knife tighter. Put his hand on the door handle. Took a breath.

  Jonas is tied up. The creature is small. Even if it killed him, it's still just a worm. I have a knife. I have reach. I can handle this.

  The rationalization felt hollow. But it was enough to make him turn the handle.

  The door opened slowly. Forge peeked through the crack.

  Jonas was still in the chair. Still tied. Ropes secure around wrists and chest. Head tilted back slightly. Eyes open.

  Staring at nothing.

  Drool seeped from the corner of his mouth. Slow. Steady. Like a leaky faucet.

  Blood trickled from his nose. Dark red against pale skin.

  More blood from his ear. The one the creature had entered through. Crusted and dried.

  Jonas's chest rose and fell. Breathing. Alive.

  But the eyes were empty. Vacant. Nobody home.

  Gods. What did it do to him?

  Forge pushed the door wider. Stepped into the laboratory. Knife ready. Scanning for threats.

  Nothing moved except Jonas's chest. In. Out. Automatic. Mechanical.

  Forge approached slowly. Step by step. Watching for any sign of awareness. Any indication the necromancer was conscious.

  Nothing.

  He stopped a few feet away. "Jonas?"

  No response. Just breathing and drool and empty eyes staring at the ceiling.

  Is he dead? Undead? What's the difference with necromancers?

  Forge gathered his courage. Stepped closer. Reached out with his free hand.

  Poked Jonas's shoulder.

  Nothing.

  Poked harder.

  Still nothing. Just flesh. Unresponsive. Like poking meat.

  What if it's still in there? What if it's waiting?

  Forge leaned down. Looked at Jonas's ear. The one with dried blood. Trying to see if anything was visible. Any sign of the creature.

  He had no idea what he was looking for. He wasn't a healer. Wouldn't know a parasite from normal tissue even if he could see it. The ear just looked damaged. Bloody. Wrong.

  But empty.

  Maybe it left? Maybe it killed him and moved on?

  Forge straightened. Backed away. Still watching Jonas's vacant face.

  Then Jonas blinked.

  Forge froze. Knife raised. Heart hammering.

  Jonas blinked again. Slower. Like relearning the motion. His eyes focused. Moved. Tracked across the ceiling. Down the walls. Around the room.

  Seeing. Actually seeing. Not vacant anymore.

  The head turned. Slowly. Deliberately. Eyes found Forge.

  And Jonas smiled.

  It was wrong. All wrong. The expression didn't match the face. Didn't fit the person Jonas had been. Too curious. Too amused.

  "Wow." Jonas's voice was his own but the cadence was different. The tone. "You must have really not liked this guy."

  Forge's throat closed. The knife trembled in his hand.

  That wasn't Jonas.

  "Is..." Forge had to force the words out. "Is Jonas dead? Or undead? Or is he in there somewhere?"

  The smile widened slightly. Still wrong. Still not Jonas.

  "Jonas?" Forge raised his voice. Desperate. "If you can hear me, give me a sign! Anything!"

  Not-Jonas tilted his head. Considering. Like the question was interesting rather than terrifying.

  "Jonas, unfortunately, didn't want to share." The voice was conversational. Casual. "So I had to take precautions and, well, let's just say he's no longer capable of sentient thought."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Forge's stomach dropped.

  "A shame, really." Not-Jonas looked away. Seemed to be talking to empty air. "He could have taught me so much. All that knowledge just gone. Wasted. Because he had to fight back instead of..."

  Not-Jonas stopped. Blinked. Looked back at Forge.

  "Shit. I have no internal monologue." A laugh. Surprised. Delighted. "That might be an issue."

  Forge just stared. Mind trying to process. Failing.

  The creature. The worm. It was IN Jonas. Controlling him. Using his body like a puppet.

  And it was laughing?

  "It is..." Not-Jonas's eyes unfocused slightly. Like reading something only he could see. Searching. "Forge, right?"

  The sound of his own name from that wrong smile made Forge's skin crawl.

  "Yes." What else could he say? The thing already knew. Was pulling it from Jonas's memories probably.

  "Good. Good." Not-Jonas nodded. "Wasn't sure if I got that right. Jonas's brain is a bit scrambled. Had to shut down a lot of it to stop him accessing me. Two-way connection problem. Whole thing's complicated."

  It was still talking. Just talking. Like this was normal conversation. Like it hadn't just admitted to destroying a man's consciousness.

  "You're..." Forge had to try twice to finish the sentence. "You're the creature. The one I put in his ear."

  "Guilty." That wrong smile again. "Though 'creature' feels a bit reductive. I had a name. Was a person. Am trying to be a person again? Terminology's weird when you're a parasitic worm wearing someone else's body."

  It had been a person.

  "Are you..." Forge gripped the knife tighter even though he knew it was useless. "Are you a weapon? From the Pantathians? Is that what you are?"

  "What? No!" Not-Jonas looked genuinely offended. "Fuck the Pantathians. Snake bastards. No, I'm from somewhere else entirely. Different world. I died there. A goddess decided I needed punishment for being an asshole, which I was, and here I am. Worm in a borrowed body. It's a whole thing."

  The words tumbled out rapidly. Stream of consciousness. Like the creature couldn't stop them even if it wanted to.

  "You destroyed things in the swamp." Forge kept his voice level. Trying to stay focused. "Killed dozens of creatures. Made an entire gremlin village slaughter each other. Why? What's your purpose?"

  "Survival, mostly." Not-Jonas shifted in the chair. Testing the bonds maybe. "Needed to eat. Needed to grow. Needed to figure out what the hell I'd become. The gremlin thing..." He paused. Face falling slightly. "That was an accident. Sort of. I fucked up. Turned fear into rage. Lost control. It spread. They all killed each other. Yeah. That was bad."

  Regret. Actual regret in the voice.

  "You killed them all."

  "Technically they killed each other. But yes. My fault. Didn't mean to. Doesn't make it better. Just..." Not-Jonas's expression was conflicted. "I'm not good at this. The morality thing. Used to be able to ignore it. Can't anymore. It's weird."

  Forge had no idea what to do with that. The creature seemed almost human. Conversational. Regretful. Not the mindless killing machine he'd expected.

  "Are you planning to do that everywhere?" The most important question. "Make people kill each other? Is Hawth in danger from you?"

  "What? No. Why would I do that?" Not-Jonas stopped. Blinked. "Oh. Right. You saw what happened. Yeah, that makes sense you'd think that. No. I told you, that was an accident. I can control it now. The emotional projection. Won't happen again."

  "You're sure?"

  "Pretty sure. Like ninety percent. Maybe eighty-five." Not-Jonas paused. "Okay, you're right to be skeptical. But I don't want to hurt your town. You guys have enough problems with the snake lords. Don't need me adding to it."

  The casual way he said it. Like he cared. Like he'd thought about it.

  This thing is insane. Has to be. Nothing makes sense.

  "You're not very good at interrogation, you know." Not-Jonas's tone was almost friendly. "You should be more aggressive. Threaten me. Leverage information. Play good cop bad cop except you're alone so maybe just bad cop? Is that a thing here?"

  Forge just stared.

  "Sorry." Not-Jonas laughed again. Shook his head. "No internal monologue means everything just comes out. It's going to take some getting used to. But Gods, it's nice to be human again! Well, not human. In a human. Controlling a human? Using a human body? Whatever. Point is, actual human thoughts! Complex consciousness! Language that makes sense! Do you know how long I've been stuck with animal instincts and broken gremlin grammar?"

  "How long?" Forge asked before he could stop himself.

  "No idea. Time's weird when you're microscopic. Weeks? Months? Could be years for all I know." Not-Jonas's face showed genuine confusion. "There was another place before this one. I think. The details are fuzzy. But that's in the past now. Not important."

  Another place. Different world.

  The information was too much. Too fast. Forge's mind struggled to organize it. But he focused on what mattered.

  "You were a person?" That seemed important. "Before?"

  "Yeah. Human. Twenty-six years old. Then I died and a goddess decided I deserved this." Not-Jonas gestured at himself. The borrowed body. "Punishment for being a parasite in life, so she made me literal. It's poetic justice or cosmic irony or whatever. Point is, I was human. Now I'm this. Worm in a borrowed body. It's close enough though. Closest I'll get anyway. Almost feels like being alive again. Is that weird? That feels weird."

  Forge lowered the knife slightly. This was insane. All of it. But Not-Jonas seemed honest. Genuinely. Like he couldn't help but be honest.

  "You can't stop talking." Forge realized it suddenly. "Can you? About anything. It just comes out."

  "Right? It's a problem." Not-Jonas looked frustrated. "Used to have thoughts that stayed thoughts. Could lie. Could manipulate. Could keep secrets. Now? Everything just spills out. I can't believe this guy thinks these puny ropes would hold me." He paused. Blinked. "See? Like that. Didn't mean to say that. Just did. This is going to get me killed."

  These puny ropes wouldn't hold him.

  Forge took a step back. Knife raised again.

  Not-Jonas noticed. "Oh, don't worry about that. Not going to hurt you. You're useful. Plus you helped me get a human host. I'm grateful. That's a thing I can feel now, apparently. Gratitude. Who knew?"

  "You said Jonas was a traitor." Forge kept his distance. "That he sold information to the Pantathians. Is that true?"

  "Oh yeah. Total sellout. Since he was a teenager. They captured him during your Culling thing. Experimented on him. Conditioned him. Made a deal. He reports on Hawth, they teach him magic. Been doing it for decades." Not-Jonas's expression darkened. "Convinced himself he was protecting you. That giving them information was keeping the village safe. But he wasn't. He was just feeding his own ego. Wanting to feel special. Important."

  The words hit Forge like blows. He'd suspected. Had thought Jonas couldn't be trusted. But hearing it confirmed...

  "He was going to enslave us." Forge's voice was hollow. "When you were put in him. He threatened it. Said we'd all be his slaves."

  "Yeah, he meant that too. Had the power. Had the knowledge. And felt completely justified doing it because you 'rejected' him." Not-Jonas made air quotes. Actually air quotes. "Guy was an ass hat. Total ass hat."

  "A what?"

  "Ass hat. It's, you know what, not important. Point is, Jonas was bad news. You were right not to trust him. If it helps, he's gone now. Like, completely gone. No coming back from what I had to do to shut him down."

  It should have felt like victory. Jonas exposed. Jonas neutralized. But all Forge felt was exhaustion and confusion and lingering fear.

  "Are you contagious?" The practical questions started flowing. "Can you spread? Make more of yourself?"

  "No idea. Don't think so? I'm unique as far as I know. Haven't tried to reproduce. Don't even know if I could. Would need another worm to mate with probably and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one." Not-Jonas paused. "That's actually kind of sad. Huh. Hadn't thought about that."

  "Are you going to kill more creatures? People?"

  "Have to eat. That's non-negotiable. But I can be selective. Target things that deserve it. Or are already dying. Or..." Not-Jonas trailed off. "Look, I'm a parasite. That's my nature now. I kill to survive. Can't change that. But I can choose who and try to minimize damage. That's something, right?"

  It wasn't comforting. But it was honest.

  "What are your plans?" Forge needed to know. "What happens now?"

  "Now?" Not-Jonas's face lit up. "Now I learn. Jonas had decades of knowledge. Necromancy. Void manipulation. All sorts of stuff I need to figure out. Plus I need to fix this no internal monologue thing. And figure out how to move in a human body without looking like a zombie. And learn your language properly instead of just stealing it from memories. And..."

  He stopped. Seemed to catch himself.

  "I'm rambling. I do that now apparently. Can't help it. Thoughts just become words. It's exhausting."

  Despite everything, despite the horror and fear and confusion, Forge found himself almost sympathizing. This thing was clearly struggling with something. Seemed almost as confused as Forge felt.

  "You seem happy." The observation came out before Forge could stop it. "For something that just destroyed a man's mind. You seem almost excited."

  "I am!" Not-Jonas's enthusiasm was genuine. "Do you understand what it's like? Being trapped in simple animal consciousnesses for weeks? Gremlins with broken grammar? Just pure instinct and hunger? And now I'm back! Human thoughts! Complex emotions! Actual conversation! I can talk to someone who talks back! Who understands! Who has opinions and thoughts and isn't just..." He gestured vaguely. "This is the closest I've felt to alive since dying. Can you blame me for being happy?"

  Forge couldn't. That was the disturbing part. The logic made sense. Twisted sense. But sense.

  "So." Not-Jonas leaned forward slightly. Smile returning. "You going to untie me?"

  "No." Forge's answer was immediate.

  "Fair. Probably smart. Though I should mention there's some stuff in the basement I'm pretty sure you'd be interested in. Jonas kept records. Experiments. Communication logs with the Pantathians. Everything you'd need to prove he was a traitor if anyone questions it. Also some really cool necromancy equipment. And possibly some dangerous things that should probably be secured. But you know, your call. I can just sit here tied to a chair instead."

  Forge stared. "You're trying to manipulate me."

  "Am I? Shit, you're right. I am. Old habits. Sorry. But also, I'm being honest. There really is stuff down there. Important stuff. And I really do want to see it. Both can be true." Not-Jonas paused. "See? This is why I need that internal monologue back. I keep giving away my own manipulation attempts. It's embarrassing."

  This thing is insane. Definitely insane.

  But also potentially useful? Maybe? The information was valuable. And Not-Jonas seemed genuinely interested in cooperation rather than violence.

  Or was that just more manipulation?

  Forge's head hurt.

  "Ah, enough of this." Not-Jonas's voice changed slightly. Became more focused. "I'll just show you."

  His body shifted in the chair. Muscles suddenly defined. Visible. Arms swelling slightly. The ropes creaked.

  Then snapped.

  Like paper. Like they were nothing. Just parted under sudden impossible strength that shouldn't exist in human muscles.

  Not-Jonas stood. Stretched. Tested the new freedom. "Better. That was getting uncomfortable."

  Forge stepped back. Knife raised uselessly. Heart racing.

  Not-Jonas looked at him. That wrong smile back. But somehow less threatening now. Almost friendly?

  "Come on." He gestured toward the door. Toward the stairs leading down. "I'll show you the basement. You'll want to see this. Trust me. Or don't trust me. That's probably smarter. But come anyway. It'll be interesting."

  Forge stood frozen. Every instinct screaming to run. To get out. To get as far from this thing as possible.

  But Not-Jonas was walking toward the basement stairs. Casual. Unconcerned. Like they were friends going to examine something interesting together.

  And despite everything, despite the fear and confusion and absolute insanity of the situation, Forge found himself following.

  Because what else was he going to do?

  - - -

  End of Chapter 31