Chapter 517

Michael rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the early morning sun illuminated his untidy apartment in the heart of New Orleans. Another day, another dollar. Or not. The construction job he'd been on was canceled. Funding, or something.

He pulled on his worn jeans and a stained shirt, the odor of stale sweat an unwanted accessory. Might as well go see that lady about the money she owes him, get some breakfast while he's at it.

"Might be too early," he mumbled, checking his ancient flip phone, 7 a.m. "Fuck it."

He grabbed his keys, nearly tripping over a pile of unpaid bills. Stepping out, the city's dampness clung to his skin like a shroud, its aroma of past regrets and imminent ruin filled his lungs. His old, broken car coughed to a start, yet another noise adding to the symphony of crap in his life.

Navigating the familiar streets, each crack in the pavement seemed to echo his own fractures. The woman, Sarah, lived on the city's edge. Her place was run-down. The houses all looked haunted. Probably were.

Pulling up, he saw her in the yard, her face twisted in a frown that could curdle milk. "Morning, sunshine," he said.

"You're early," she retorted, her words clipped and cold. "Don't you knock?"

"Didn't think it mattered to you, besides, I need my cash," he said, his stomach starting to twist. Something felt off.

She glared at him, then spat on the ground, a surprisingly large volume. "You'll get it. Just give me a moment, all right?"

He watched her head inside, feeling uneasy. Her eyes had flashed something weird. Golden. No way, not this time in the morning.

As he stood there, his attention was caught by a snake slithering nearby, its movements too smooth, too intentional.

It was watching him. With eyes like a man, full of hate. He went to take a step back, he felt weaker.

It struck. Biting into him. Then pulled itself back. A man now stood there, looking down on him, it had golden eyes. Like her, why did it look like her.

"Fool, you thought this was the other woman. It wasn't, not in the way you think." He said it in a rough voice, filled with some strange pride. He then kicked Michael down and put his foot on him. "You didn't get her pregnant. I did. It's just not time for me to leave her body, not yet. Not time to hatch. Do you want to see how?"

Michael was shaking, not knowing why. He nodded weakly. "Please, stop, I am scared of you."

He just chuckled and crouched down to pick him up, then dragged him inside. Once in he said, "Don't be scared. See what I can do. Take you for example, how did it happen?" He lifted him, "No, let me, here's what happened. She didn't like me and wouldn't have my child, so I became her, it didn't work, so I made her," He started laughing again.

"Now I can leave her for good, so tell me again why you are so afraid?" he then started shedding her skin as he held on to him, it smelled strange.

Michael stared as he kept his eyes open, too afraid to move.

"It's what's inside you, see. It changes you. What it really is, only a small part stays of you, I use your memories, nothing more, and all because of some damn woman not accepting you, so she owes me her body. Or yours." he was shedding her, but something was wrong. He felt as though he was fading as it happened, and Sarah seemed dead. Her eyes looked different now, even for her.

He could barely keep his mind on it as he was lifted from his own skin. But was this real? Could he move? Why could he still see as the man just laughed while eating the remnants of Michael's flesh.

"Here, your first time. Be more careful next time." the snake-man laughed while chewing the last of Michael's old bones.

"Can you see now, little guy? What happens if you're just human?" it spat, finishing its meal with relish.

The room swam around him as it finished with Michael's remains. The transformation from man to snake left nothing but bones. Now a human, it then picked up its things to move elsewhere, ready for a new game, new rules. It stepped over the body as if he didn't mean a thing. "Thanks."

"Another city awaits," it declared, walking out. The sun greeted its new form with indifference, leaving the bones, in Sarah's house.

This transformation wasn't just physical. A man was dead. Someone to hate. His face changed again, Michael gone. This made him mad, he should not have done this yet.

His rage, now amplified, simmered beneath a new human facade, more cruel. But his body was still weak, just a shell of another him, still unable to leave, and just like with Michael. A new form of a shell. Trapped for all of time.

But how? It didn't matter how. All of them made it easy. And then, there, at the next stop was her. A lady who smiled. The target now for all of his ire. Her home was like any other. She called the police once because she hated some people around there. She kept some knives, and a gun.

"Hey there, I'm with a repair team and noticed something off, can we talk? About your neighbor's behavior?" It called, playing on her biases. But this time his body was smaller, just that of some kid, small, harmless looking. But he couldn't stay that way, not for long.

She glared, considering the offer with suspicion. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Came with my family to talk, I won't take much of your time," it responded, its words oozing feigned innocence, this time a man heard. It needed him. This way is best.

The man grumbled but approached, drawn by a sense of responsibility or boredom. Or, as he will later realize, fate.

"Let me take the kid and help, I don't want him around," he sighed, his words tinged with weariness. A trap, it realized, one made by others. A test it now sees through, another chance to break free. But how?

"Fine, he is trouble," she muttered, handing over the kid as if unloading a burden. But this one would do anything not to be stuck. So it will wait. The new plan takes hold, and its hate builds, and it's just getting more strength back, while it hides the hate now inside this man, stuck for good. He's different now. He takes her with him to his old apartment.

They approached Michael's old haunt, a new layer of disdain adding to its usual neglect. The man opened the door, stepping into the familiar gloom.

"Stay here, kid," he commanded, dropping a bag heavily on a nearby table. "I'll deal with this. And him." His voice is cold, like an old, dying flame.

But inside, it smirked, this vessel had a strength it needed, to get them out of here. This was new. Now time to find who put him in here and have some words, if only he was stronger. He starts walking, not knowing where. It's trying to guide his thoughts.

Days turn to weeks, then, to months, each moment a grueling eternity. Trapped, it nurtured a plan for retribution. The man, unaware of the passenger within, felt a change. He did not want to hurt anyone else now, seeing more each day.

He grew more withdrawn, haunted by something. The change did not go unnoticed by those around him. Or those who sought him. But the changes within him felt strange, wrong, his steps, too quick and far for one man to walk, a silent cry for some other thing that knew why he changed and was hurting others still. Why was he still losing to this creature inside of him. This new body started failing too, again and again. He needs to run now.

"What's gotten into you?" a neighbor, another woman, asked one evening. He looked down, unable to tell what she meant. She's worried for him. He sees the creature watching from the mirror now, his form changed and ready. "You have to know." she continued.

"Get back!" the man retorted, his eyes burning with someone's hate, as if no longer the man he once was. He's not, it wanted the creature out, so it changed and taunted him, into giving chase. The thing inside took over when he let his guard down. Now running on some far away street. It had power again.

The city, with its oppressive heat and secrets, became its hunting ground, if only it could use this one more, now too small, for what it sought. What he could not have. It could hurt them for the last time. If he knew the way, just run to it, as the body of another was lost, eaten and left, it did not need that of a man anymore.

But the transition wasn't easy. Each new host brought back memories of the first betrayal, fueling a vengeance that wouldn't have the next one needed, that needed one final place to move from man to new form, and out into what they made. What could make a creature stay still and weak.

Months into the charade, it prepared for the ultimate act of retribution. The target: those who betrayed it, trapping it in this human game, the creature had now taken human names, the others, to have what it wanted. Another try. Another day to be them, then kill. What had that one thought to say to it now?

"Just in time," said a new man's voice. This new man stood before the building where it all started, now dressed like it wanted, the snake, ready to strike, from the same man from so long ago, having made many in its own image now, many snakes to take them. Just another. It took that one long to see him, still looking. The city slept as it slithered from a dark corner of its newest man's mouth, then struck again, still weak, it's just not fair.

"Did you truly feel you would get it this way," said the new man as he just lay there, laughing, but the new ones felt sick. Something else came, what was it.

It was her. Not that other girl, a different one, but the one it first made a body to have, she was laughing now. Why did it take this body now to be like him? Not her. "It's not easy." she said. Then stopped moving.

"Why can't we move." one shouted. But none listened. Not even her. She felt something too. So did he, it could see, that creature wanted the body again, he wanted it back now. "What is this." he shouted again, his eyes not right. This was new, but this was why he wanted it to come to this one. To trap them here.

"How can you stay that way." one of them screamed, now seeing another who would not move, not again, stuck forever this way. It can feel a bit of joy in this thing, that it helped make what she made and is not its old self. "This thing has us trapped, no?" someone said, then it looked up at this final body, stuck for real now, not again, she had no choice, no new place to be. Now a true test begins.

But what for? Just another form it cannot use, its own hate now something new, what all of them have made real, one thing inside each form. He has just grown to love this final host's pain, so it just let her be. Let her take his old one. And then just walked off, another day over, just as the new morning began to come.