This choice: Reveal yourself to Dana. • Go Back...Chapter #4Reveal yourself to Dana. by: Seuzz It's Saturday, so there is no need for you to get up right away. Instead, you linger in bed, trying to think through the ways you might go about revealing yourself to Dana, and getting her permission to stay inside her.
No ideas immediately suggest themselves, and soon you just give up and get out of bed. You take a quick shower, doing your best not to take much pleasure as you rub the suds over your breasts and let the hot water stream down your back. Back in her bedroom you dress up in shorts and black t-shirt and black leather boots. It's a look Dana has worn in the past, and you know it looks good on her. Again, though, you try not to get too excited, even though your eyes sparkle as you admire yourself in her mirror.
Then you sit down to do some more thinking, and gradually an idea forms. It takes you awhile to work out the details, and how to put it into effect, but after an hour you think you see a way you might be able to keep at least a toehold in the human world.
You go down to the kitchen, where you say a quick "Good morning" to Mrs. Pak and Sarah, and fetch a large pitcher from a cabinet. Back in her room, you sit at Dana's desk and write in her notebook:
"Dear Dana, [you write]
"I'm sure you're wondering how this note got in your notebook and in your room. I would like to explain that to you, but I can't right now. But if you meet me at the elementary school over on Elm later this morning, I will try to explain everything. I need your help, Dana—very badly. I have always liked you, and I think you've liked me. Please, if we've been any kind of friends, help me now.
"There's a glass of pitcher of liquidy stuff that I left for you by the notebook. Please drink some of it before you come. Again, I don't have time to explain why, but please humor me. Don't worry, it's perfectly okay—kind of like a jello shot, actually. But without the alcohol. You'll be all right.
"David"
This is a terrible risk you're running, but you can't see any other way. So you lean over the pitcher and vomit yourself into it.
From inside the pitcher you look around. Dana is collapsed on the floor, and you raise yourself out of your temporary home to look at her. After a few anxious moments, you see her eyelids flutter and she sits up. You lapse into stillness and watch.
She looks around in confusion, and then looks down at the notebook and at you. She hardly seems to spend any time reading the note, though, before she goes downstairs. You hear voices but you can't make out what they're saying.
You are terrified, and are just about to bolt from the house when Dana comes back and looks at you steadily. She bites the inside of her cheek. And then, slowly, she picks up the pitcher and sets it to her lips.
Quick as mercury you are down her throat and back in control of her body. The possession has left her coughing and gagging, and when you're recovered you pick up the notebook, pencil, and now-empty pitcher and leave the house and walk down to the school.
In the back, near the swing set, you sit down and begin writing in her notebook again:
"Dear Dana,
"Now you're probably wondering how you got to the school. I admit it has to do with the jello stuff you drank earlier, but it's completely harmless. There are people who are chasing me, and the jello stuff is part of how I'm avoiding them. I know this sounds strange and melodramatic, but I needed to show you that the stuff was safe. If you have any questions, write them in the notebook and I'll answer them. You'll have to drink the jello stuff again to get answers, though.
"Please trust me, Dana. You're the only person who can help me.
"David"
You then vomit yourself back into the pitcher.
When she wakes again, Dana doesn't waste any time reading your note, but instead starts scribbling a note of her own. Then, grimly, she puts you to her lips again.
When you are once again behind her eyes, you read this:
"David—
"Are you controlling me with the jello? Because I remember writing these notes to myself, and throwing up the jello. But while the jello is inside me I can't control myself.
"I will drink the jello one last time, but after that I am through. This is too weird. You need to explain what is going on."
Your heart—her heart, technically—races as you read this. You have only one chance now. You pick up the pencil.
"Dear Dana,
"I didn't know that you'd remember. Thank you for telling me. Yes, the jello stuff IS controlling you. That's because I AM the jello stuff. I was in an accident, and that is all that is left of my body."
You go on to describe the accident at the military base, your ability to move your liquid body around and to possess people, and how you got to her house in the first place. You conclude:
"Please, Dana. I feel like I'm a monster, but I'm not one. I can't live like this. They would put me in a jar or experiment on me, I'm sure. I need a place to hide, and I need a body to live in. I promise I'll be good. I have to, because you can see what I do when I'm in you. But please, at least for a little while—let me stay in you.
"David"
When she comes out of her faint, she looks at the note, but only briefly—she saw it forming under her own eyes, you know now. She looks at you, in the pitcher, for a long time: a little fearfully, but also curiously and speculatively. You want to show her that you can also see her—something you have been forgetting to mention, so you leap and jump inside the pitcher. She herself jumps back a little, then leans in close.
"David? Can you hear me?"
You leap and jump, then rest.
"David," she says after a long pause. "I suppose you could have possessed me and kept possessing me even if you hadn't asked."
You bounce affirmatively again, though not so merrily.
"But you wanted my permission."
You bounce, joyously.
She looks up and into the distance, thinking. You try to keep your patience, but you find yourself sloshing gently in the pitcher.
She looks down at you. "If we do this, it can only be for part of the day. I have to be myself at school and with my family. You have to know when to come out of me, and you have to respect that. Okay?"
You leap up and down.
She looks a little white, but picks up the pitcher, and gulps you down.
Back in Dana's body you write "THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!!!" in her notebook, then brush yourself off and return to her house. You smile at Sarah as you go in, but go right up to Dana's room and vomit yourself back out. She hides you in her closet.
* * * * *
It's dark and lonely, and as the hours pass you begin to realize what a hard life you have had thrust upon you. When the door opens again, and Dana looks down at you, you are feeling quite sorry for yourself. "I'm sorry to have left you for so long, David," she says. "But everyone has gone and we have the house to ourselves. I'm going to let you out now. Or in, I guess." She drinks you down.
It feels good to have a skin and body again, and you skip about the house in her trim body, then put on some music and dance happily. You don't want to be provocative, but you also want Dana to understand how much you like having a body, and you want her to have fun too. So you have a nice, long dance workout, and then, flushed but happy, sit down in front of her bedroom mirror and talk to her reflection, since you're sure she can hear you inside of her.
"Dana, I'm so happy for this. I don't care what I'm doing—I just love having a body again. I'll make you a deal. I'll jog for you, I'll do aerobics, I'll do weights, I'll do whatever you want to do to keep in shape. I'll do all the hard stuff, if you just let me out more often." You then put your chin in your hand and admire her face in the mirror. "And I hope you don't mind me staring at your face, but you are so beautiful, and I'm so grateful to you." You blush at the silliness of it all, but don't break away from the mirror, because another thought has formed in you.
"Dana," you say. "I don't think that in my new form I sleep. Can you let me stay in you tonight? I promise I'll be good. But I don't want to be trapped in a closet all night long." You give her an imploring look, then pour yourself into the pitcher.
When Dana raises her head, she looks at you for a long time. "That was quite a workout," she says. "But I'm glad you had fun. I'll have to think about letting you control me during workouts," she says. "It's still hard on me, but it is easier than if I were doing it myself. As for letting you inside me at night ..." Her eyes go out of focus as she thinks for a bit. "Well," she finally says somewhat lamely, "I'll have to think about that, too."
* * * * *
Whatever trepidations she may have felt about letting you inside her during the night she has apparently put aside, because when she is ready for bed, she comes to you again. "Be sure to tell me what happens, okay?" she says, and then briskly drinks you down. You slip gratefully between the crisp sheets of her bed.
You don't feel the least bit tired, but you close her eyes and try to breath regularly, and relax. For the longest time nothing happens. And then—
Even with her eyes closed you could feel the sheets and hear the quiet rustle as the house settled down, but suddenly all that vanishes. Instead you are suddenly and intensely aware of her thoughts—not just her memories, but her emotions and her inhibitions and her feelings and dispositions. You know what she likes and what she fears, what she wants to do and what she hates to do. It's no longer a question of asking yourself a question and getting the answer. It's almost like her mind and personality are part of yours. The only thing is, you can't actually see or hear anything.
While you're puzzling over this, you are suddenly aware that she is having an experience: a dog is chasing her. It's a big dog, with a huge red mouth full of teeth. She is very frightened and she tries running away, but her feet are stuck in the ground, and she can move only very slowly. The dog is getting closer and closer, and its eyes are blazing ...
It doesn't take long to realize that she is dreaming, and that you are experiencing her dream as it forms. She is terrified, and you're terrified on her behalf. You want her to think of unicorns and bunny rabbits and lollipops instead ... And suddenly the dog is gone and she is in a field of lollipops with unicorns and rabbits dancing playfully around her.
This is astonishing: you've changed her dream for her. You do a little more fiddling: You bring the dog back, but you set it to dancing too, and when it starts growling, you have the rabbits start kicking it, smiling the whole time. Soon you feel Dana laughing at the vision you've given her.
You realize—though it feels now like something you always knew—that the dream about the dog is a recurring nightmare, and she is intensely relieved that this time it has turned into something pleasant—even comical. And then the dream fades and she is still again.
You keep experimenting: If you can change her dreams, can you change anything else?
A little cautious experimenting shows that you can change some things but not others. Her longest and deepest memories are simply permanent, and everything up until her most recent memories are very hard to change. But things that happened today you can alter. You can change details—for instance, you make her believe she walked down to the park, not to the school. You can even erase whole episodes—you completely erase the memory of her dancing, though you quickly replace it.
It occurs to you that if you wanted, you could probably erase her whole memory of what you've done, that you are even in her. But you made a promise to her; and besides, you wonder what would happen if you kept trying to control her.
* * * * *
You spend the rest of the night inside her, keeping her dreams safe and happy. And then it's morning.
Suddenly the dreams stop, and busy thoughts come crowding in. It's late, she needs to get cleaned up. Can she get to the shower before Joanna? Yes, she can. Hurry, get the water warm. Shampoo. Rinse. Repeat. Get dried off. Get dressed. Will her mother have breakfast ready? What's that pitcher doing on her desk. Oh, crap!
All this time you have been able to see and hear and feel nothing except her thoughts as they come. You were a bit dazed at first, but then you tentatively reached out and played with a few of her thoughts as they came, tweaking them. You got her to put on a skirt instead of jeans; sneakers instead of sandals. And when she saw the pitcher, you reached out, thinking "I have to do something about this" to yourself.
Suddenly, her thoughts disappear and you are in direct control of her body and senses; she is in her bedroom. And yet, even though her mind itself is gone, you feel much more comfortable about "playing" her. You don't have to reach for thoughts anymore; they come unbidden. You know for instance, that she is getting ready for church; that she is dreading seeing Sam Gibson there—he always stares at her. The pastor is dreadfully boring. But there will be a nice lunch afterward. When Joanna knocks and asks to borrow a hair clip, you reflexively pull open a drawer and take out the one she wants.
This is very interesting; it appears you have two ways of controlling her. You can, if you wish, directly run her body and her mind, and your session down inside her mind when she was asleep has given you greater control of the latter. But, if you wish, you can also let her retake control, though at the cost of cutting yourself off from seeing or feeling the world. You want to understand that more. So you run your fingers through her mind (so to speak). Nothing happens, but then you touch a spot and it's like flicking a switch ...
Everything goes dark and silent, but her mind springs to life. She's wondering where you went. Are you gone? Have you dissolved inside her? You try talking to her, but find you can only communicate by twisting her thoughts and making her think the way you want her to think. So you give her the conviction that you are still inside her, that you are trying to figure out how to live inside her. She panics, but you smooth that thought away too, and make her feel that you would never do anything to hurt her ...
And then you reassert your domination, and her mind fades and you are back behind her eyes. You look into the mirror.
"Hi Dana," you say. "It's strange talking to you this way. And I know it's strange for you to listen. I know it's strange for you because ... well ... I've discovered how to read your thoughts."
You go on to describe the night, and her dreams, and how you kept them happy. You describe knowing so much about her. You describe, nervously, your belief that you could successfully imitate her if you had to.
"I'm telling you all this because I want to be honest with you. You've been good to me, and I don't want to take advantage of that. Please don't be frightened, Dana. I still want to be with you, and I hope you'll let me. But I'll leave it up to you. I'm going to leave you now. And if you don't want to take me back, I'll understand."
You then sit up and force yourself out through her mouth.
She doesn't even pass out this time; she is just dazed for a minute or two. And then she is looking at you with a pale face.
She says nothing for awhile, and when she speaks she is slow and careful.
She says she is grateful for what you did for her last night, and she's interested in what you have discovered. She trusts you and she likes you. But she really does not like the idea of you "playing" her, even if you could do it perfectly. She also admits she's a little freaked out that you know her so well now.
You shiver, and something in your "body" language tells her that you are unhappy and afraid. She also looks unhappy.
"Look, what about moving into an animal? Like, a dog or a horse? Wouldn't that work for you?" You've already done that, and though you were glad enough to have a wolfskin for awhile, you are not keen on making a downgrade. So you don't react, which is enough to tell her that you're reluctant. "I guess we could keep doing what we've been doing," she says. You jiggle in what you hope looks like a hopeful manner. Then her cell phone rings.
From her voice and manner you can guess that it is Melissa Swenson, one of her friends. And while she's talking a gleam comes into her eye. When she hangs up, she looks back down at you.
"Look, I know it is probably deeply wrong and unethical, but ... If you can get into people without them knowing, like you could get into me ... What about possessing someone else? What about playing them?"
Well—
It looks like Dana's got a very flexible set of morals: What she wouldn't do to herself she's perfectly willing to do to someone else.
You slosh gently back and forth in the pitcher, pondering possible moves. You wanted to make it work with Dana, and with her permission, but that appears to have reached a dead end. There are, however, still the other possibilities you had entertained earlier. You could get her to try putting you inside Caleb, for instance, or inside someone in your own family. You might also try to infiltrate the military base.
To your own surprise, you are seized by a sudden conviction of what you want to do. You stretch out a tentacle, which she correctly interprets as wanting to be put inside her. She swallows you down. indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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