Parasyte Roach (part I)

They are small. They eat little. They don't talk much about the past. But above all, they eat humans.

Eat humans? Feed on their meat? Yes. We've already seen there are horrible creatures capable of that. I talked about two of them: zombies and vampires. Now it's time for the parasite roaches.

The reason I remembered the parasite roach was that saying: 'They are small. They eat little. They don't talk much about the past. But above all, they eat humans.' This was a kind of catchphrase that identified them that I read when I was in the beta training. And I remembered that phrase because Joey recited it on that day.

Before narrating what happened that day I'll briefly explain about the parasite roach: if a vampire needs less human flesh to keep up than a zombie, the roach needs even less. Basically it only uses human flesh for the sane, and nothing more.

The premise is as follows: When a body is dead or nearly dead, a cockroach-like insectoid enters any cavity and takes possession of the body. It lives mostly in the brain because it has to manipulate the nerves to get the body back up and running again. The insect then becomes the pilot of a large ship. The nerve impulses that would guide the body's functionality in life are now stimulated and controlled only by this small cockroach-sized insect.

The little insect feeds on anything edible that enters the body of which it has taken possession of. If it wants to, it can leave the brain region and walk to the stomach or anywhere else inside the body. It makes holes so that it can get around the body better as long as the holes don't compromise the functioning of the body, as it needs it to function well so that it can continue to feed. After all, if the parasitized body can't use its force to find food, it is of no use.

that's why the name is parasite roach. It looks like a cockroach and really is a parasite. Except it's a parasite that takes care of everything and not just a body part. Because the insect needs to control everything on its own, it usually prefers small bodies, such as children's, dwarfs', or short adult females'. Hence the saying 'They are small'.

Because it is the size of a cockroach, its strength is comparable to that of one. Any human who spotted one of these bugs could easily kill them with a stomp, that is, as long as they had enough agility to.

However once inside the human body, hunting this little beetle-sized being is no longer an easy task. The insect has full control of the parasitized body, so it can use extreme force in its most basic attacks without worrying about the damage caused to the body, after all the latter is just a carcass in the parasite's view. This force beyond the natural capacity employed at any time can be classified as the parasite roach's indarra.

For the same reason any damage done to the body as long as it does not touch the insect inside it, is worthless. After all, the parasitized body was already dead to begin with.

Remember that, as I said, a zombie's sane is nothing but its ability to feel no pain or any repercussions of nonlethal damage to its body. Although the accumulated damage can only be recovered by the work of a surgical expert or the likes, the zombie doesn't really feel any of the attacks suffered, so this trait can be seen as a kind of sane of its species. In this sense the parasite roach's sane is similar. It also can't be automatically applied as the sane of an altered human, for example. By contrast, all damage to the body is ignored as long as it doesn't reach its parasite. To heal the wounds quickly is the reason the tormentor then needs to consume human flesh. It must have its controlled body ingest the human flesh or insert it through any hole so that the bug can then use it to repair the wounds inside the body using extra tissue.

Although disgusting, it is nonetheless an interesting insect. Science, or at least the science of Earth, has been trying to make transplants work between bodies of all kinds and is always in trouble because of body compatibility and such details, while a mere bug can make a body work. again taking any extra tissue from another body, and ydoesn't even need a bachelor's degree in medicine for that.

So basically, the sane of a parasite roach is the only skill that requires it to hurt or kill humans for its accomplishment.

Even so, it is among the four races of the ten under observation by SAD that must be hunted without the need for primary action by them, precisely because of their eating habits.

To kill a parasitic bug just wound it deadly like a cockroach, which, as I said, can be a daunting task once it is already inside a parasitized body. After taking possession of a body, the parasite roach is the second most difficult race to deal damage out of all the ten. To get an idea of what this means, the zombie is the third: although the only way to really damage a zombie is with a lethal wound, if we want to attack a zombie mortally during a fight, at least we know where the deadly spots are located, its vital points. So we can aim at them. It's different with the parasite roach. There is no way to know where the bug is, as it can roam freely throughout the parasited. The roach can only be damaged by direct injury and it is unknown where it's located throughout the conflict. This makes it the second most difficult race to handle out of all ten, second only to the cyborgs.

To finalize the introduction of these risky insectoid beings, I expose how to detect a parasite roach among humans. It's not a very easy task either, as it eats enough food to make it look perfectly healthy on the outside.

Still... There are two ways: one would be for eating habits. A human body which is not making any effort uses almost no energy, so it needs only very little food to stay healthy on the outside. Added to this, being a small insect, the roach itself needs onlya tiny amount of food to sustain itself. Adding the two necessary amounts of food, body and insect, a parasite roach eats far less food than a normal human being. So if a friend of yours never has an appetite in a way you never really see him eating... You might start to suspect. Hence the saying: 'They eat little.'

Another way would be similar to one of a zombie's modes of identification: its lack of memory. The roach has no memories of the bodies it possesses. It can make the body talk and interact normally with other humans by manipulating the brain directly, but it cannot retrieve its memories of the past. The parasite roach only knows what happened to the character it got hold of after it started to control it

Thus if someone who died you magically came back to life and doesn't remember you... Well, in this case I wouldn't even have to warn you that something is wrong for you to begin with. Or at least I hope so

The saying is: 'They don't talk much about the past'.

These are the characteristics of this abominable being that is the parasite roach. Worst of all, they are neither aliens nor lab-created beings. They are insects that inhabit the Earth and are part of its nature.

Now back to that day of interest, I remembered the parasite roach because Joey recited the catchphrase: It was a Tuesday afternoon, and a lot was happening. SAD was a mess. The nasty journalists kept calling all the time for information about the case of a man found dead in a ditch around the central park. His name was Jim Sanford. Because he was a member of the drug squad (DEA), the news wasn't going light.

And the case had been passed to us the morning of that same day.

What happened was that Jim Sanford died just like Gerald McMiller did last week. Like I said, this one had died in front of the apartment where Jeffrey Sprohic was living, with part of his torso torn off. But now Gerald's culprit was under arrest, and this inspired one of these two reactions: either it made the nature of the crime mysterious or the department's credibility plummeted. Most likely the second.

And now we had to endure the dull calls and personal visits from people demanding an answer about this case and the relationship with the other, which had already been concluded. If you want to do our work for us, please. Do the whole thing!

Not only that, at the end of the day before another case had been assigned to us: there was an attack on a residence where some belongings were stolen. It would have been a natural robbery had it not been for the name of the man involved: the residence belonged to a fellow we were supposed to be eyeing: Arthur Bernard Cooper.

Sarah was still in the building even because Ewalyn was at the scene of the Sanford murder trying to appease the onlookers and draw some conclusion from the case while Crane was resting at home, recovering from Monday's attack, so someone had to stay to try to get things in order there in the head office.

It was just me, Joey and Sarah inside the building. Chapman was absent as usual. The excuse is that he was in the field, trying to find something about the longhair suspect spotted at the Johnson's house. Joey was in charge of denying any interview in Crane's place, and Sarah and I, inside my office, were discussing what we were going to do next.

Sarah, with her hands on the table, sighed and said:

"Lieutenant Dotson... You'll have to take charge of the fake Cooper case.It will be better if you go visit the crime scene, because I have to have at least the preliminary report, which was supposed to be done this afternoon by the end of the day."

"Me? Why me? And who will take care of the mess at SAD?"

"The DEA personel is very busy claiming the case and there are a lot of onlookers out there for now, you better leave this all for another time. What's more, Detective Lowe hasn't left the scene yet. We'll wait her get back with the information. She can take care of things over there."

"Is Ewalyn going to be able to handle the preliminary inspection alone under these conditions?"

"She has experience, Lieutenant Dotson. You have to trust your detectives. Now go! Go and leave me alone!"

Sarah stared at the table. We heard the noise of the telephone in the next room, followed by Joey's voice all the time. She was clearly stressed.

In fact, we all were.

I didn't want to bring out the captain decided to get depressed in 'my' office and at 'my' desk, so while obeying her orders, I opened the door and headed for the reception room.

Before I could leave, Joey bumped into me and brought us the news:

"Lieutenant! Captain! It's Jenna! Crane is..."

He had the cordless phone in his hand and a stunned expression on his face.

"What happened?" I asked as Sarah took the phone from his hand and talked to Jenna, "Did Crane suffer a relapse?"

"Worse, she..."

"Ssh!" Sarah made with the hand.

I heard words spoken on the other end of the line, but I could not pick them up. As soon as they ceased, Sarah replied:

"Got it. I will call you back," and hung up the phone.

"It's Secretary Crane... She was poisoned."

"Poisoned!? How?"

"The specialist, Jenna, said they sent it to her... It was in the middle of chocolates sent to her from the gifts she received while she was being observed at the medical building... Last night she was discharged and went home and took the present together with her... " Joey was exploding loudly and redundantly.

Sarah waited for him to finish his version and once finished, just agreed:

"That's precisely it. The medical team rushed to her house just now."

She let out another long sigh. Then she turned toward me. I already knew what she was going to say. But I tried anyway:

"Sarah... I need to go and see Crane."

"Lieutenant Dotson... Someone has to be in charge of Cooper."

"I can go..." Joey began, "I think it would be good to close the office for the rest of the afternoon ... Everything is a mess... We can't even work properly."

Sarah just looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"Yes, Detective Meyers. We are going to close the office. Call Mike's extension. Ask him to send someone to say no to the phone calls. Whatever they call asking answer no. Tell him to keep it that way until six."

"Er... Really, Captain?"

"Yeah!" She stood up. "There's a lot going on and we're in no condition to handle it. It is the best to be done."

"So this means I can ...?" I asked.

"No, Lieutenant Dotson. We'll still be focusing on the cases while we're away. You are going to inspect the crime scene. And Detective Meyers is going with you."

"What the hell...? What about Crane?"

"The medical team is taking care of her. There is nothing to fear. Fortunately the poison was detected in time. Now we just wait for the recovery. I'll go there myself and see how she's doing."

"But... Ewalyn is taking care of her scene by herself! Why do we need two for...?"

"Dotson... There's nothing you can do about Crane."

"Sarah. Sorry, but I..."

"Dotson! You. Are. Going. To. Cooper's. It's an order!"

She stared at me defiantly. I did the same in return. We stayed like that for a moment. Until we heard a noise in the reception room. It came from the entrance door.

"What is this about no one informing me about the...? What? Where is everyone here?"

It was a female voice. Probably another news rat. She took steps that reverberated the whole structure, because she wore heels of whatever kind of material.

Sarah left the room and ordered further:

"You are the lieutenant. She's yours."

Sarah passed the visitor without saying anything and walked out the front door. Joey kept looking at me now and then sometimes switching the eyes to the girl.

The visitor was a young woman with curly black hair wearing thick glasses and wearing also a frustration face, probably due to the high bureaucracy she must have endured to get there.

"Good afternoon." She started in a partially cordial tone, trying not to reveal her mood. "I'm Megan Mourne of the Daily Inquirer. I was wondering if..."

"Are you blind? We are closing!"

"Lieutenant..." Joey protested with a weak voice.

"I wanted..."

"Madam, sorry," Joey crossed, "the concierge man must not have been warned, but as the lieutenant said, we are no longer in visiting hours.

"I..." She turned to Joey "I'm not visitating! I'm from the newspaper! I told you I was coming in the morning and I had a scheduled time..."

"But we're closing"! I stated categorically and started locking the doors, beginning with the one in my room that was right behind me.

"Listen... I was a friend of Jim Sanford! He kept in touch with all the staff of the Daily Inquirer. I came too because maybe I can help with some important information!"

"If the time I want some information from you ever arrives... I'll go after it! For now leave your name with my secretary." I nodded at Joey.

"Hey. Listen here you... Ogor"! I don't know who you think you are, but I had to put up with so much to get here! Everyone keeps throwing responsibility on others and sending them to and fro. As far as I know Jim is part of the DEA and I also know all of a sudden you guys show up and ... 'steal' the case for yourselves, just like what happened with Gerald McMiller! Aand on top of that you simply refuse to give any kind. interview... And now that I arrive everything is getting closed? I... I demand an explanation!" Her voice cracked for a moment as in hysteria her intonation rose too high. "Say... What exactly is going on here?"

That girl looked devastated. Who knows what Jim Sanford meant to her, but when I saw her nearly tear up while ranting like that, I realized she certainly wasn't just there to fulfill her employer's stupid goals.

Since SAD cases appear in the newspaper as roadkill, heart attacks and other things of trivial nature, in her point of view we were indeed 'stealing' the cases.

But too bad for her, at that time I was nervous. At that time I wouldn't stop to do jackshit.

"Talk to my secretary." I answered emphatically. And left the room.

Yeah... That day was a whole pile of shit.

In fact, that whole week was being a big amount of shit.

First a zombie and an alien make an appearance for good citizens in broad daylight. Then a lot of people die. Earlier this week SAD gets robbed and Crane is hospitalized. And now she was poisoned? Via some damn chocolates?

Has anyone even thought of checking who sent the damn chocolatesa anyway? Certainly Joey and Sarah didn't talk about it because deep down they knew the truth: Galloway sent the chocolates.

Either Galloway or Chapman. I told myself they were going to pay for it.

As I was crossing the yard to get to the car, I took my phone out of my pocket and tried to call Chapman, but after three attempts he didn't answer. Of course he didn't answer! He must be very busy laughing at us. "Busy with the alien investigation." His ass!

I texted Jane saying I was going to be late, while she waited for Joey to catch up with me. Not that sending the message mattered, but it beat stand waiting while Joey gave I-don't-know-what-excuse for that news girl.

After a second he came running panting towards me.

"Hey! Lieutenant...! Wait!"

He got closer and took a breath.

"I thought you were going to leave me here."

"Sarah told us to go togheter. Come on in. I want to get this over with."

I won't go into the details of how I drove dangerously because of my bad mood until I got to that scene. I just state that in twenty minutes we were already there.