Chapter 08

Fetter had trouble waking up, which made sense, as his Host was in the process of dying. The damage the animal had done to its body was far more extensive than he had realized. The planet’s sun had long since risen. There were sounds of movement not too far from where he had collapsed. He struggled to get to his feet. He couldn't fully open his good eye. At least one of his limbs was broken.

I can barely move, shit, he thought to himself because he obliterated his Host’s consciousness.

There was no one to talk to.

“Mmmrrrrooowl,” he moaned weakly.

“I can’t believe I’ve got to use a fucking shovel to get through this shit,” a voice said in words Fetter couldn’t understand.

It had to be a language based on the tone.

Whoever they were, they were unhappy.

The voice meant he still had hope, however. If he was able to get a bite out of them he could use them as his Spark and heal his body. Then all he had to do was devour them to regain his full power.

That’s right. This body is mine.

My Host is dead this time.

“Mmmrrrooooooowl,” he moaned again.

“What was that?”

“MmmroooooooOOOOooowl,” Fetter moaned louder.

“Kitty?”

He recognized that word from his Host’s memories.

“Kitty? Odin? Is that you? Where are you?”

Another word from the memories. ‘Odin’ and ‘Kitty’ both referred to his Host in the local tongue.

“Mmmmrroooowl,” he yowled again.

“Oh my gods, oh my gods, poor kitty!” The voice said as it got closer. “I didn’t see you there holy shit what the fuck happened to you, little Odin? Oh no, oh shit, no, no, no. Not the gods damn cat!”

Whoever they were they sounded upset.

He managed to get his good eye open a bit more and took in the sight of his target. They were much bigger than he was and...completely clothed from head to toe in protective gear. Long sleeves covered their arms, a mask and goggles covered their face, thick gloves took care of their hands. The only exposed flesh was their ears at the side of their head. He didn’t have the strength to reach that high.

Shit, this mission sucks.

His target dropped some sort of large tool Fetter couldn’t make out before they rushed away.

No, fuck. Come back! I need to bite you!!

“Mmmrrrrooowlll,” was all he could manage to say out loud.

Noises came from inside the structure he was laying against. The muffled voice of the target, likely cursing based on their tone. Then, they rushed back outside with something in their hand and bereft of most of the protective gear they had previously been wearing. Gone were the long sleeves. He could see the pale, nearly hairless, skin of their arms as they approached with a large swatch of colorful fabric.

“It’s okay, Odin. You’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you to a vet, okay, little guy? They'll make you all better,” The target cooed before throwing the fabric over him and putting their full weight down as he struggled to break free.

Fuck! No! They got me!

As his target lifted him in the air, he pushed his body to its limit, dumping its entire reserve of adrenaline into his system. It was a last ditch gambit that, should he fail, would likely cause his heart to fail. The strength he was granted for his effort was just enough to wriggle and writhe in such a frenzy his target couldn’t contain him. One second he was wrapped up in the fabric, the next his top half was free, hanging upside down at an angle that made it difficult for the larger creature to hold him. He spun himself, kicked off their grip, and aimed at the exposed elbow of his target. He discovered his Host’s teeth weren’t in great shape when they cracked while sinking into the bare flesh.

“FUCK!” The target shouted.

Fetter dug his fore-claws into the lower arm of his target and bit down harder, drinking in free flowing blood as the larger creature struggled. It was enough. It had to be enough.

Be my Spark!

“GODSDAMNIT!” His Spark shouted as they ripped him from their arm, tearing a chunk of their flesh out in the process. Fetter slammed into a metal wall. He ignored it, shook it off, and chewed as best he could on the meat in his mouth. This awakened his ability to shapeshift his body. If Hive scientists had determined how or why his race had these abilities in a Host and had to use this process, they hadn’t told anyone. It had been boiled down to tradition.

The Link formed between him and his Spark, and with it he gained new knowledge of her language and distant hints at her memories. The Hive could directly share memories using the Link, though Fetter didn’t do it often. Still, in general, members took comfort in the feeling of being near the mind of others.

Emotions.

That was what the Hive usually shared even though they could share thoughts and complex ideas via the Link. The process of eating from a Spark always caused a Link to form with the target. It was why they were promptly killed as per tradition. It was understood the Link drove anyone from outside the Hive insane. Killing and eating them was necessary. One had to send their Spark to the gods quickly.

It was a mercy.

“Ow, oh fuck, what the fuck is wrong with you, cat? Oh no, shit, did I hurt you? No, please be okay little kitty. What are you eating? Oh fuck, my arm, shit,” Freyja rambled frantically then hissed as she fumbled with the towel and her bleeding arm.

Fetter quickly patched up his body, healing his broken leg enough to move, fixing his good eye. The missing one could be replaced and likely would need to be before he killed the woman. She clutched at her bleeding arm. Surprisingly, he didn’t see anger or fear on her face, just confusion and worry. He had injured her and she had gotten angry for a brief moment, but now she was concerned about his well-being.

“Are you okay, Odin? I didn’t hurt you trying to pick you up, did I? Poor baby boy,” Frejya said in a high soft voice.

He knew she could feel his murderous intent just as he could feel her concern. Yet, the human still made an effort to get closer.

“Don’t worry, Odin. You’re gonna be okay. I’ll get you to a vet and they’ll make you all better, little guy.”

He needed to kill her quickly, eat the body, and replace her if necessary. She had a brother and family in the city who would be checking in on her frequently due to some drama Fetter really didn’t give a shit about. It might be easier to kill her and then dump her vehicle somewhere. Make it look like a local murdered her, but then he’d lose access to the Armory she’d been protecting.

Gotta kill Freyja and take her place, no problem. I don’t mind being female, Fetter thought to himself.

“Kill me? Replace?” Freyja said out loud.

Shit, the Link is that strong?

“What link?” She asked.

There was no sense in waiting any longer. Sure, it was still daytime, but Freyja’s memories told him the neighbors hadn’t been out and about much this time of day. When they had, they didn’t want to talk to her, save to tell her how much of prick her father had been.

Ugh, stupid pointless drama.

“What? Drama?”

Fetter unleashed himself. His body shifted, bloating quickly as he leapt forward. He made sure he had more than enough appendages, strong muscular rope-like tentacles, claws, and powerful legs below him. None of that mattered when the shovel hit him, sending him hard into the wall of the Armory. Had Freyja reacted before he had a chance to move? There was no other way the human could have been so fast, even she didn’t think she could have been that quick.

He expected her to run. Go for the weapons.

He didn’t expect her to start wailing on him with the shovel in an attempt to remove his head with the sharp metal spade. It wasn’t difficult for him to repair the damage she was inflicting. He figured it best to tire her out so he wriggled on the ground putting up an act of fighting back without really doing much beyond stitching his wounds back together and occasionally grazing her with one of his tentacles and claws. He’d whittle her down and wear her out.

Then she suddenly stopped and took a few steps back, bloody shovel in hand. She wasn’t breathing nearly as heavily as she should have been. Her shirt had several bloody slices cut through it where he had made contact with his claws.

“You’re faking,” Freyja said.

Fetter cracked his neck and rolled over. “You haven’t gone mad.”

There was no question from either of them. The Link was remarkably stable. She could see his memories and thoughts as clearly as he could see her's which...shouldn’t be possible. She should have been having some sort of psychological breakdown at the very least. Been upset that there was an extraterrestrial trying to kill her and replace her to take the Old Man’s weapons.

Instead, Freyja glanced down at her bleeding arm, scowled, winced, and...healed it by shapeshifting.

“Oh, fuck,” Fetter said out loud.