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therizino-ao3 · 2 months

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mcyt valentines 2024: The Big Eyes Bug

gift for @raccoontho @mcyt-valentines

contains: body horror, zombie apocalypse, bugs, worms, eye injury, mind control, parasites, minor character death, imprisonment, character being handcuffed/chained, misgendering (not in a trans way, in a not believing a zombie is a person way and using it/its)

word count: 5430

summary: Zedaph loves worms. Now, if only they loved him back.

Zedaph would like to say that he was right all along to everyone who had ever doubted him. His mother, his father, his entire small village, his college roommate, all his extended family, and that one guy that made fun of him that one time. Unfortunately, he can’t say that, because in the ensuing apocalypse which PROVED he was right to study helminthology, they all died. But, he can think about it in his head, and imagine the annoyed faces they would make instead of imagining their disfigured bodies, and it makes him feel better.

He is somewhat worried about his food supply. So far, hiding in a high school cafeteria has been pretty lucrative, but after spending a week moping about in one, you begin to run out of crisp packets and mini brownies and satsumas. It’s a pretty safe area, every door thick and lockable, not to mention that the entire site is empty – what kid could be bothered to go to school in these conditions? It’s a far cry from supermarkets, he’ll say. Every single supermarket Zedaph has seen so far has not only been thoroughly looted of anything useful but also littered with bodies and guts. There’s no doubt everything in there is contaminated with eggs. Overall, even though it is a bit weird for a random adult man to be hiding in a school, it’s working out.

He hears footsteps. Maybe it isn’t working out, then.

He tries not to panic. This isn’t the first time a zombie has come by here. Well, calling them zombies feels a bit weird, since they’re still alive, but thinking about the fact they’re still conscious as something controls their brain and mutilates their body is worse - plus “zombie” sounds cooler than “fluke host”. So, zombie it is. Anyways, sometimes some stray zombies wander past the school, but none have attempted to break in and chances are they’re all sacrificial hosts. He just needs to stay quiet, so they don’t alert the shepherds. It’ll be fine.

The footsteps aren’t the regular, lumbering kind though. They vary in pace and have an air of confidence to them, so the person they belong to definitely has fine motor control. That’s bad. That means either a shepherd or a survivor. He isn’t sure which is better. Logically, the survivor would be, but in zombie apocalypse movies, aren’t the other survivors usually evil? He hasn’t even watched any movies like that, so he’s just guessing from what he’s heard, but they might try to eat him or steal his supplies or… something. At least a shepherd is predictable, a survivor could do anything.

Something crashes outside, Zedaph wonders if they’re trying the doors. He gulps. Well, if they come in here, whoever they are, he’ll fight him! He’s got big scary horns for a reason! And he isn’t afraid to use them!

He hears some doors being swung loudly on their hinges, sounding far too close for comfort. The fight instantly leaves him and he starts to think about escape. Part of the reason he chose the cafeteria was due to the exit options. One door leading to some classrooms, one door leading to a courtyard area, and one door in the kitchen leading to the outside. The last one is his only real choice, considering the noise is coming from the classrooms and he’ll get caught easily in the courtyard. He hates the idea of going outside, exposed to the sky, but it’s not like he can do anything else.

And just as he’s finished making up his mind, he realises that the person has already forced his way into the room, past Zedaph’s rudimentary barrier of plastic chairs. He’s a guardian, short with a fluffy beard, kitted out with a heavy rucksack and a belt adorned with tools. A respiratory mask hangs around his neck.

“Uh,” says the guy. He doesn’t have any visible broodsacs, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s uninfected.

“Uhhhh,” says Zedaph, standing like a deer in headlights.

“Are you-”

“Please don’t kill me!” he interrupts, voice going high with hysteria.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” the man says, looking a bit amused. He takes a few steps forward. “From that reaction, I am guessing you’re uninfected?”

“Yep, totally free of parasites, me,” Zedaph says, giggling nervously.

“Righhht. I am so sorry, by the way, I didn’t know there was anyone here. You’re doing a really good job at hiding, I totally thought this place was abandoned,” the man holds out his hand, “I’m xB.”

Zedaph shakes xB’s hand – he thinks he’s supposed to shake his hand? He hopes xB didn’t want to hold hands instead because that would be awkward. xB looks at him, as if waiting for something. Oh right, he’s waiting for an introduction, “I’m Zedaph, nice to meet you!”

“Well, mister Zedaph,” xB pulls his hand back, “it is nice to meet you too! I haven’t met many others. I’m alright to chat for a little bit, but this has kinda been a bit of a stop in my plans. Do you mind if I grab some food while I’m here?”

Zedaph turns to where xB is looking – the kitchen – before turning back, “Um, yeah, grab as much as you want. Sorry for interrupting your… plans.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault for being here, it just means I’m gonna have to find somewhere else to base for the next few nights,” xB wanders over, rooting through Zedaph’s food supplies as they talk. Zedaph follows. Maybe it was a bad idea letting xB take some of his precious food, but he wasn’t just going to tell xB to starve.

“You can stay here, I won’t mind,” Zedaph says whilst xB stuffs one of his six trouser pockets with raisin packets.

“No, no, it’s… there’s gonna be a lot less food here than I imagined and, to be honest, I prefer being alone,” Zedaph isn’t sure what to say to that (or what to say to anything in general, actually. He hasn’t talked to people in months). xB starts again, “So! What was your job before all this? I was a security guard.”

“Security guard! Like at a museum?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I was, and I like to think still am, a parasitologist.”

xB giggles, “A what?”

“Parasitologist! Helminthologist, specifically. I study parasitic worms. Truthfully, I’ve been obsessed with worms ever since I was little. Just couldn’t get enough of them. Worm man, the kids used to call me.”

xB is alert now, straightening up, “Wait. Parasitic worms, like, the ones out there?”

“Well, a lot more than just the big zombie ones, but yes.”

“So, for the ‘big zombie ones’, you could tell me all about how they work and how to stop them?”

“Basically!” Zedaph says, spurred on by someone finally being interested in his research, “It’s somewhat hard because this isn’t a species we ever knew about before – I imagine they went extinct in the wild sometime in the last Ice Age, but some eggs were frozen and, well, off-topic, anyway! The point is, even though this is a species new to science, they share a lot of similarities to other helminths, such as ones in the Leucochloridium genus. I have also been doing a lot of observing and taking notes - and though it would help to be able to properly dissect and analyse specimens - I have some theories on their life cycles and mechanisms.”

“Right,” says xB with bright eyes, “Y’know, I might have just had a change of plans.”

“You’re staying?”

“For the night. Anyways, can you continue on? I want you to explain why some of the infected are smart zombies and some are normal zombies, please,” xB has forgotten about the food, pulling up a stool to sit on.

“Of course, of course,” Zedaph grins, “So, the worm at this stage has one goal: get eaten by a dragon. This is because the dragon’s belly is where the worm reproduces and the microscopic eggs get spread by the dragon poop and pee and tears and breath and all the other gross stuff. When the parasite gets into your system, it makes these… tendrils. They connect to your nervous system and brain and send their own impulses, controlling your body. You also have the broodsacs which is the whole, y’know, eye situation. Anyway! Most infected want to get eaten by the dragons to spread the eggs, yada yada. But! People are smart. We’d soon figure out what the parasite’s plan is and develop something to kill eggs and capture all the wild dragons and what not. So, the parasite needs to be smart too and there is a smart brain right there waiting to be used. Every now and again, an infected becomes what I like to call a shepherd, helping to guide the other zombies and stop the uninfected from causing trouble, often by manually infecting people. It’s extra interesting because the sacrificial hosts – that’s what I call the other zombies, because their purpose is to get eaten – seem to be able to communicate with shepherds, maybe by pheromones?”

“That is interesting,” xB says, eyes focused on Zedaph. It’s almost unnerving how much he’s staring, really.

“One question for you, actually,” Zedaph says, because it’s been on his mind since he saw xB, “What is a seafolk doing out here? Bit far from the ocean, aren’t we?”

xB bites his lip, “Yeah. I would have stayed there, but the infection was waterbourne. Underwater cities were where the first major outbreaks happened. Coastal areas were mobbed with infected. The best decision was to leave as fast as possible. Besides, I have a friend inland, so it’s not like I’ve never been this far out before. Plus, for a guardian, land travel is manageable with lots of water, and I have a purifier, so…”

“Makes sense,” says Zedaph, who hopes that’s a sensible and compassionate answer, because currently all his mind can focus on is how the parasite is able to spread so well in water. Do the eggs hatch into a microscopic worms well-adapted to an aquatic environment that are able to enter people through the gills? Is this the same form they take in the body or one unique to ocean environments? Is this hatching activated by proximity to water? Or a certain temperature? Or a certain salt concentration?

xB doesn’t seem to mind Zedaph’s failings at social interaction, because he asks for Zedaph to explain more things.

Zedaph loves explaining. Issue is, the parasite is very complicated, and though Zedaph loves complicated, it is a bit inconvenient when you have to try and explain the ins and outs of a trematode lifecycle to someone who knows only basic biology. Nonetheless, xB is a good listener and asks questions and all the awkwardness Zedaph initially felt at having to talk to someone when he hasn’t in so long has melted away. Eventually, they’re both tired from laughing too much (even in the face of morbid topics, xB makes some good jokes) and Zedaph leads xB to the feeble pile of abandoned jackets and dish cloths he calls his bed. In response, xB retrieves a sleeping bag from his rucksack, and Zedaph may or may not have pleaded really, really hard to share it because he doesn’t want to spend another night shivering, so he instead goes to bed cramped next to a man he has known for a few hours. It’s the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

xB just has to go and ruin it all by pointing a gun at his head.

“HYUUHHH? YAHHH?” Zedaph yowls. He’s never really been a morning person, so you can’t expect him to formulate a good response at 6 AM.

“You. Are coming with me. And you are going to do everything I say so you don’t get killed. M’kay?” xB is standing over him, all prepared and everything. It isn’t fair. Zedaph bets he’s a morning person.

“Whatever you say,” he manages, in a small voice.

xB stops pointing the gun at him but keeps it in his hand. He chucks Zedaph a Naruto-themed backpack. He must have found it in the dining area, left by some teenager ages ago. There’s a large patch of mould growing over Kakashi’s face. Zedaph scrambles to pick it up, peaking inside to see it’s been stocked with food and water bottles. So, he’s making Zedaph his mule, making him carry around things for him, ridiculous! xB then puts on his respiratory mask, before motioning for them to exit.

Zedaph blinks as he steps out, already feeling anxious. The sun is beginning to rise, tinting the sky pink.

“Okay, so where would we need to go to get the treatment for the parasite?” xB asks, his voice muffled by the mask.

Zedaph splutters, “I thought you were the one leading me around!”

“I am, but, where I’m leading you to depends on where the cure is. Like, do you need a laboratory, or can you find stuff in a pharmacy, I’m waiting for you, man.”

He pauses before answering, “Probably a vet. They tend to have a lot more antihelminthics on hand. Typically, you tend to see worms more in dogs than humans.”

“Alright, now you follow me,” xB says, raising the gun as reminder, before tucking it into a gun holster and trotting away.

Zedaph swallows and does as commanded.

At least xB seems to know what he’s doing. They stick to alleyways and gardens and hedgerows and other very hidden routes, where they’re unlikely to be found by shepherds and aren’t too open to the sky. Unfortunately, there isn’t really a time of day where the infected go all sleepy, but at least travelling during the day they can see where they’re going.

It occurs to him that xB must know this area pretty well, given he’s taking weird shortcuts with no map and yet is no less confident. Maybe this is where his “inland friend” is. Zedaph doesn’t really know where anything is, unfortunately. Ever since this whole thing kicked off he’s just been running randomly until he finds somewhere decent to stay.

Their trip is uneventful, save the occasional roar of a distant dragon, until about 2 hours later. The path they are following bends to the right, and poking their heads around the bend, they see a sacrificial host.

It stands, swaying, in the centre of the pathway. Clothes still cling to its body, though torn and stained with all manner of fluid. The mouth is slack open, the skin is tinted green and Zedaph can see odd rashes covering parts of the body. Its eyes bulge, an ungodly amount, to the length of an arm, the cornea stretched to the verge of breaking. Taking occupation in each eye is a broodsac, a thick pulsating mass like a caterpillar, banded green and red and white, writhing. They each move independently, one twisting up to the sky, feeling for light. The other slumps. The thing that once was a person – and still might be, deep inside, Zedaph reminds himself – stumbles towards a spot not covered by the shadows of the surrounding trees. One of the legs looks twice the size of the other – there must be a third broodsac in there. The creature comes to rest once at its destination and both eyes reach up as far as they can before rhythmically bobbing to try and catch the attention of a dragon.

It's been a while since Zedaph has seen one in person. The parasite is amazing. He feels a bit guilty for thinking that. He wants to keep staring but wants nothing more than to run away at the same time. xB tugs his arm and breaks him from his thoughts. They carefully walk past, making sure to keep a decent distance and not make too much sound. The sacrificials will only notice you if you’re obvious. They leave it behind them with no issue.

After an hour they arrive at “Pro Vetz: We Cure Animals For Less Money Than Other Vets”. The sign is missing 5 letters, but there is a crusty outline where the letters were, so you can still read it fine. He can see why xB chose it, it’s hidden between clumps of warehouses and nowhere near any housing estates. That being said, whilst it is the apocalypse, it’s only been the apocalypse for a little while, and it is perhaps the most derelict veterinary establishment he has seen in his life.

Zedaph glances at xB, “I’m not comforted by the sign.”

“If it works it works, if not, we have enough food to bunker down here for a little bit and we’ll try somewhere else,” xB says, opening the door, “After you.”

He creeps inside, looking around the dark waiting room. There’s a dark puddle of something in the centre and some of the chairs have been pushed around. xB takes off his mask; there’s little point in wearing them inside, the eggs will just be settled on surfaces. Zedaph is also not sure if they are that necessary outside, given the only way an egg could be breathed in is if a dragon is literally exhaling on top of you, but he doesn’t have the courage to tell xB that.

“I don’t think we’re the first ones here,” he whispers.

xB hums, staring at the surroundings before heading over to the door at the back, “We’ll just wash our hands after we leave in case of eggs, we should be fine.”

Zedaph watches xB pull his gun out before tugging open the door and charging through. Zedaph follows, unsure what else to do.

The door leads to a corridor, with some doors either side leading to operating theatres, one to a collection of cages to keep sick animals in, and one final door leading to all the stock. The place is silent and xB lets him through to look at their de-worming medicine.

“So, is there a particular reason for your forcing-me-to-come-with-you-and-get-anti-worm-medicine thing?” Zedaph asks as he shuffles through boxes. He’s looking for praziquantel, or even metrifonate or triclabendazole or something.

“Let’s just say I have a motive.”

“That? Answers nothing?”

“I know,” xB giggles, “Okay, fine, I want someone I know to get treated of the infection. And I want some supply of drugs in case something happens to me. And I want to keep you around because it’s useful to have someone who understands how the infection works. There, that’s the truth.”

Zedaph isn’t sure how to feel about being called useful - his parents always said he was useless. At the same time, he’s not sure if it’s that much of a compliment when xB says it. He’s also starting to realise xB might have just been enthusiastically listening to him infodump about parasitic worms for the purposes of learning how to defeat them, rather than genuine interest in said worms. And it’s not like Zedaph judges him for that, it is the apocalypse and xB wants to survive, that’s understandable. He just kinda thought that, well, he finally found someone who truly wanted to hear what he had to say. Overall, he feels weird.

He responds with what he knows: worms, “Right. Just be aware I’ve never tried this medication for this specific species and with the way the parasite affects the body, best case scenario, they will probably lose their eyesight and some mobility. Worst case scenario, they die.”

“I kind of expected that. I consider myself lucky enough to have simply found someone who is able to cure him, like, I totally thought it was a fruitless mission. I wouldn’t have given up but, I am grateful.”

“I would be grateful if you didn’t threaten to shoot me,” Zedaph says, because okay yeah he is really annoyed about that actually. Annoyed might be the wrong word, someone who you trusted pulling a gun on you is more of a “betrayed” really.

“I wasn’t actually going to shoot you,” says xB, like it’s obvious, “The sound would alert all the zombies to where we are and it would be a waste of bullets.”

“You could have just asked me to come with you, I would have said yes.”

“I- Yeah. I probably should have done that, sorry.”

Zedaph is kind of tempted to keep going, insult xB a little, but whilst he probably deserves it, Zedaph isn’t sure how long he’ll be able to survive without him. And he did get an apology, so maybe xB will learn to be a little less… threatening-y and more… caring-y.

“Anyways, found it!” he exclaims, pulling out praziquantel.

xB cautiously pokes his head out of the store, and confirming there’s no zombies outside, gestures for Zedaph to follow him out.

“Okay, we need to go to a base I’ve set up a few hours away. We’ll try and see if there’s somewhere we can stop for lunch and so I can get rehydrated, all right with that?”

Zedaph nods.

They weave between warehouses, before finding their way to an alleyway. There’s a lot of turns and Zedaph is reminded uncomfortably by a maze. He is then reminded uncomfortably of a horror movie when something grabs him from behind.

Held, he tries to let out a yelp but a hand dashes in front of his mouth. xB is a few metres ahead of him and doesn’t seem to notice Zedaph’s struggle. His attacker keeps him still, allowing him to watch the only person who could help him walk away, until he deems it safe slam Zedaph to the ground.

He groans, asphalt denting his face. Zedaph swivels to try and face his attacker and sees a face he recognises. Tango, his former friend, with bulging red eyes and rashes all over his face. His eyes aren’t nearly as large as an ordinary zombie, and with the wicked grin on his face, Zedaph has no doubt he’s a shepherd.

Tango was… something in Zedaph’s life. The first friend he ever had, at age 7, Tango was willing to put up with Zedaph showing him all the weird bugs he found, and in return, Zedaph listened to Tango talk about spaceships and dinosaurs and cars and anything else. They grew even closer together and were inseparable, until in their late teens where they fell out and never spoke to each other again. Y’know, just normal friends stuff.

“Hey Zeddy.”

And out of everything today, that’s what breaks him. Because it isn’t even Tango saying that, it’s a worm inside of him, using data in Tango’s brain to say what it thinks will get Zedaph to stay still long enough for him stuff eggs down his throat. And it works. Because Zedaph loves worms so much, and he loves this worm (still, despite everything), but why does it have to do that to Tango, why does it hurt him? Because Zedaph misses Tango so much (he hates that he does), but why does Tango have to hurt him? Does he still think Zedaph is worthless? Is there still a Tango in there, or is Tango’s brain just a database of old memories and actions for the worm to pick and use? If Tango was still here (but he is here) would he apologise?

A gunshot jerks Zedaph out of his mind and the body of the thing that was Tango rolls off of him.

xB stands far away, panting, holding the gun.

Zedaph looks at the body. A hole is in its head. Its hand is clutched, no doubt holding eggs. He forces himself to his feet and comes to stand by xB.

“Did you know him?” xB asks.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” xB says and hugs him. Zedaph wasn’t expecting that, but it’s not like he dislikes the hug. Actually, he really needed it, probably. Thoughts are hard. xB pulls away eventually though.

“I hate to rush you, but like, every zombie in the area heard that and we should really be running now.”

Zedaph nods and runs.

They’re silent until they reach an old garage. xB lifts the door and they both usher inside. It’s been over an hour and xB must assume they’re safe now.

They haul off their bags and xB motions to them, “Eat something, please.”

Zedaph does that, after spraying some sanitiser on his hands, going straight for the chocolate because he’s feeling rough right now. Meanwhile, xB takes off both his mask and his shirt, something that greatly confuses him until he realises xB is probably checking up on his gills. He is. xB undoes the tape cover on them and lets water run over them.

“I lied,” xB says.

“Huh?”

“About being a security guard, I was actually a hitman.”

“Huh,” Zedaph says, that probably makes sense, given how accurately xB was able to shoot from such a distance, “Did you kill anyone?”

xB looks at him weirdly and giggles, “I mean, yeah, duh, that was my job.”

“I- Yeah, I really should have thought that through,” Zedaph begins to laugh too, a little hysterically, maybe, but who can blame him.

After xB eats, they continue on. They come across a few sacrificial hosts which are easily avoided, and that’s it.

The place where xB is storing his infected friend looks inconspicuous – a decent sized house, a bit run down, behind a public park. Before they go in, xB spends a while surveying the doors, windows, and surroundings, telling Zedaph he has memorised the default condition of the house and needs to check if anything has changed, which would be a sign of an intruder. After 10 minutes xB extracts a key to use on the kitchen window and leads Zedaph in.

“Why don’t we use the front door?” he asks while xB is relocking the window.

“I have it trapped. Most, but not all, people will try the door first to get in. I – and the people I trust – will know it’s unsafe, so only malicious people will get harmed.”

It takes Zedaph a second to realise, “You trust me?”

xB looks back at him, as they wander through the dark hallway, “Of course. You are far too cowardly to try and do anything.”

That’s fair.

They head into the basement and Zedaph is greeted with the sight of a homemade prison cell, barbed wire and chicken netting combined into a grisly metal mesh, held in place by bars of wood, nailed to the floor and ceiling. There’s a tiny flap at the base, probably for sliding food in or something. Inside is a zombie, with some of the largest broodsacs in its eyes Zedaph has ever seen. It has braided hair alongside hooves, showing it was once a satyr like Zedaph. It is also handcuffed and chained to the wall in 4 different places, in case the barricade and locked basement door weren’t enough to keep it down here.

“Princess? Is that you? Did you bring a friend?”

“Hello Keralis,” says xB, “And yes, I did. This is Zedaph.”

“Well, hello there mister Zedaph,” the zombie says with a sweet voice, “Can you please tell xB here to let me out? This isn’t very nice.”

“It’s a shepherd?” Zedaph asks xB.

“Yes. He is a shepherd, smart, talking zombie thing. And no, we’re not letting you out, because every time I do, you try to kill me.”

“Kill my princess? I would never do that.”

“You have though! You try every time.”

He frowns, “I’m left-handed, xB. You can’t blame me.”

xB giggles, “I think you’re a bit more than left-handed, Keralis. I think you’ve got Big Eyes.”

Zedaph is thinking about Tango. He should probably stop doing that, “Right, like I said, I can’t guarantee he’ll survive, or that this will even work, just keep that in mind.”

“I know,” says xB, “Set up the you-know-what-because-I-don’t-want-to-say-it-in-front-of-him upstairs.”

“What are we talking about?” asks Keralis, or once-was Keralis, as Zedaph runs upstairs.

Part of him hopes the medicine doesn’t work, because if it does, well, Tango. He feels mad at xB for killing him. He feels mad at himself for letting xB kill him. He feels mad at himself for getting mad at xB for saving his life. He feels mad at himself for hoping the medicine won’t work. He feels mad at himself- for a lot of reasons, you get the gist.

He focuses on the praziquantel. What dose would be appropriate? He took all the boxes they had, so it’s not like he’s running out any time soon. Typically, he’d default to 75mg/kg/day over 3 doses for non-identified trematodes, but in this case, the infection is quite extreme. He decides to go with 100 mg/kg in three doses for today, and then work from there, like neurocysticercosis. Both parasites affect the brain so he hopes the dosages work similarly. Since the pills are intended for animals they can be crushed, which makes it easy to give to Keralis since it can be hidden in food.

xB comes up and Zedaph explains the situation.

“That’s perfect. When I’m here I try to give him three meals a day, so we can work that in. I have a whole room dedicated to storing food, so I should be able to support all three of us for 6 months at least.”

“Oh, it will take far less than 6 months. Don’t worry. Probably like a month, max.”

xB smiles. They prepare Keralis a lovely meal of crisps and granola bars and dust the whole thing with 30mg/kg of praziquantel and return to the basement.

“Here you go, dude,” xB slides the plate under the mesh flap.

“Hmmph,” Keralis says, awkwardly dragging the plate over in his tied up condition. He has to eat by sticking his whole face into the food, since his hands are handcuffed and attached to the wall. Zedaph almost feels bad.

Keralis lifts his head up to talk halfway through, “This guy… I haven’t been fed in a week and now all the food you give me tastes bitter!”

“I left you a week’s worth of food in here before I left. And beggars can’t be choosers,” xB responds.

Keralis huffs and finishes off a granola bar. Zedaph is counting himself lucky that the awful taste of the medicine didn’t give their plan away when he hears a thump from upstairs. Everyone looks up – including Keralis, whose massive eyes manually tilt up.

“Wow, your roommate sure is noisy,” Zedaph says.

xB clenches his fists, “Only Keralis and I live here.”

“I really hoped you weren’t going to say that.”

xB glares at Keralis, “Was this your doing?”

“No, no! For real this time! This is,” Keralis pauses for a moment, “Ohh, I see. Now you’re both in trouble. Someone’s coming.”

xB swears and pulls out his gun. Zedaph is caught between fear and wanting to ask Keralis the details of how long-distance worm communication works.

The basement door creaks as its opened.

“Hello hello everybody, I’m Etho!” the shepherd announces. It has one ordinary eye, dark and brown and wet, and one livid red twitching eye. The entire right side of its face is bumpy and rashes bloom on the skin. It points its gun at Zedaph, “And there’s some things going on here that I don’t quite like.”

Zedaph remembers something he said to xB yesterday. Something about shepherds stopping the uninfected from causing trouble. He thinks about the praziquantel to kill the worms. He thinks about how the sacrificials can summon a shepherd. He thinks about how Etho has one unmarred eye and how you need good vision to aim a gun. He thinks about how infinitesimally small a chance it is that Tango would be a shepherd and happen to run into Zedaph. He thinks about how he hears so many more dragons going outside now, and about the old enchantments that kept them from urban areas, which would need to be undone. He thinks about how the shepherd/sacrificial determination can’t be chance. He thinks about queen bees and hiveminds and pheromones.

He thinks about all the worms and parasites he’s studied over the years. He thinks about how simple and familiar worms are, how nobody seems to get it but him, how if there were ever to be a worm-led apocalypse, of course he’d be the only one who could stop it.

And as xB aims his gun at Etho in return, Zedaph thinks that the worms chose the wrong enemy.

---

woooo! happy (belated) valentines day! I hope you enjoyed! i thought it would be fun to leave you on a semi-cliffhanger

this ended up being quite heavy on the body horror and apocalypse, though I know you've written body horror in the past so I wasn't too worried.

originally there was a lot more about the worldbuilding and species stuff beyond the little hints here, but I ended up not really fitting with the way the story was shaping up. essentially, this is an urban fantasy world, similar technology to our world but with added magic, with a lot of mythological creatures. you have the fieldfolk (satyrs, minotaurs, fairies, anything woodsland-like) and the seafolk (mermaids, guardians, sirens, selkies), alongside wild fantasy animals (such as dragons).

and: WORMS!!! as soon as I saw xb on your characters requested list, I was thinking about an apocalypse fic (I've been loving the mlp infection AUs and mawofthemagnetar did a lovely zombie apocalypse fic involving xb which inspired me). I am a biologist so whenever I think about zombie apocalypses I want to try to subvert them and introduce (somewhat) realistic facets of biology. viruses have been done to hell and fungi have gotten popular but I've never seen anyone do parasitic worms before, which I think is a shame! this is the species the fic is based on (warning for worms/snail + eye injury + animal in pain), which not only looks unique but does "mind control" its hosts (infected snails move towards light), and as soon as I realised I was doing worm zombies, a certain zedaph on your requested characters was a perfect fit.

in the original draft of the plot, wels and bdubs showed up, and etho had so many different roles I considered during brainstorming - a fellow survivor who tried to attack them, a mediator between the worms and survivors, etc etc. here it isn't too explained what he is due to the dramatic ending, but you can kind of see what I'm getting at. Zedaph initially assumes the worms are just worms, and the shepherd/sacrificial distinction just randomly occurs and is a simple adaptation to help the species survive. at the end, he realises that there's some kind of higher force within the worms choosing which hosts become shepherds, e.g. to best target Zedaph, and letting the worms communicate long-range. Etho I imagine is a specialised agent - with his normal eye - used for assassinations

I'd love to upload this to ao3 if you'd be alright with that, I can set it as a gift for you

#its done wooo! this was so fun to work on. would maybe add onto this concept in the future #therizino writes #mcyt valentines #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #fanfic #cw body horror #cw death #cw bugs #cw worms #cw mind control #zedaph #xbcrafted #keralis #not tagging the others since they barely show up #long post

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