Realizing she was rubbing her chest, Shirley dropped her hand to her side. “Yes,” she said with a jerk of her head, “I’ll be fine. Just nerves.” She offered him a half smile. “Thank you.”
From the corner of her eye, the computer screen caught her attention. An open e-mail, it’s heading a macabre banner of red eyes staring out from between skeletal trees shrouded in fog, sent a chill across her scalp. With dawning horror, she read the letter.
Dear Fearful,
I cannot in good conscience tell you what to do. However, I understand your desperation. If you have been infected with the parasite, the only way to get rid of it is to detach it from your brain. Unfortunately, you have a very small window of time with which to do so. As I write this to you, the parasite is growing. It will continue to eat away at your consciousness, so to speak, until it alone controls your body. What happens to you, I don’t know. What I do know is that those who contract the parasite fall comatose within three days. Those who wake up, wake up altered as though the person they once were is gone, leaving Another in their place.
I hope this helps you. It must be removed if you are to survive.
Good luck.
“Good God!” Shirley exclaimed, her hand rubbing at her chest again.
Behind her, a fireman read over her shoulder.
“It’s a good thing we got here when we did,” he said. “Who knows what she would have done to herself, after reading this. We might not have arrived in time to save her.”
Shirley nodded in agreement, feeling the chill deepen. “What kind of person could do this? Write this to a young woman who is clearly unstable?” Shirley’s voice shook as she spoke. “My niece – my niece must truly be out of her mind to believe this.”
“Well, ma’am,” the fireman patted her arm, “she’s in good hands now.”