Parasite Dawn - Chapter 2
Being implanted with Angelica's parasite... at first it was frightening. Then it was wondrous. Sven had never felt so... good before. Like he had a purpose now. Always slacking, always flirting with such painful lack of success. He never wanted to live his life as a farmboy. He wanted more out of life, he wanted more than trudging in the soil.
Now, he had found it. Or perhaps, it found him, through Angelica's grace and providence.
It had given him a new course, and he was more than happy to bring Its goals to fruition.
But who to go for first? Sven had spent the night wondering. Angelica, after all, said they needed to rest first. And so they had, but now was the time to hunt.
He had to be careful though. If he had to force himself upon someone, it needed to be discrete and cautious, as Angelica had done to him, exploiting his desire for her.
He didn't hate her for that. After all, his desire led to such delicious revelation. And his struggling must have been fun.
He wanted to experience that himself...
But again, caution. Who could he hunt, who could he isolate, or lure away? His reputation was a double-edged sword now; no one would suspect him of a thing, but most would dismiss any request of his too.
Over a hundred people in this little village, and none came to mind immediately, stepping out of the way of a donkey cart laden with wheat. The village of Donstorf was not particularly remarkable, wooden buildings with thatch roofs, save for the blacksmith's, trader's, and the residence of the Folsom Family, the wealthiest family in these parts. All those buildings had shingle roofs.
The blacksmith was nestled between the trader's and the farrier, in the middle of town, in the southwest corner of the four way intersection that divided the little village into four small blocks. The stables were at the western edge, whilst the Folsom Residence was right at the northern edge of town, looking south down the road into the village itself, the road skewing off to the left and meandering away to the main road between the town of Mollorn and the city of Capurn.
Donstorf was quite far from either, but traded with both, enough to keep the village alive and thriving, even if small.
He brought himself back to the present; ambitions beyond Donstorf could and would wait until It deemed it time to spread. And It would do so when it was safe. Spreading too quickly is what doomed It last time. Sven wouldn't allow that to repeat.
But It still needed to spread. He just needed to figure out who...
There was a yelp when he ran into a woman leaving the bakery, carrying an empty sack of flour. The bump nearly made them both topple onto the wooden boards outside the store, but they managed to keep themselves upright.
"Oh, sorry Sven, I didn't see you there!"
It was Nina, the curvaceous darling of the town. She was in her 25
th
year, and yet she had the build of a woman a decade older, and significantly fertile. Her chest was noticeable to everyone, her hips were broad, as were her thighs, and her belly had a subtle bulge to it. Sometimes, it looked like her dirty grey-white dress and charcoal skirt were straining against her curves, trying not to break. Her dark auburn hair was done up in a bun, otherwise her hair would have hung past her shoulders, silky but wavy.
Her blue eyes shone bright, but they never seemed to focus on anything for long, Nina always moving about, always busy, perhaps more than she needed to be.
Her lips twitched as if trying to say something else to him, showing how plush they were, glossy and pink, though she wore no makeup, displaying her mildly tanned skin and the dark spot just to the left of her nose.
Sven had always admired her, as did a number of others in the village, but his heart had always been set on Angelica.
Well, it wouldn't matter soon enough. They'd all be sharing one love, Its Love. But even before he received the Gift, Nina, for her polite attitude and good nature, felt unapproachable to Sven.
"Oh, it's no problem," he answered. "I was off in my own world."
"No, no, I should have been paying more attention," she insisted, patting herself down and clutching the empty flour sack tight. Oh, how Sven wished he could have kissed her now and shared the Gift, the nascent parasites in his gut eager and stirring.
"Well, I'm surprised you didn't see me, I'm quite distracting," he joked in his usual manner.
She laughed, as was her polite way, but there was something he noticed he usually did not; quick, nervous glances at him, and then away.
"Oh Sven, you and your jokes," she remarked. "Anyways, I have to return this sack to the trader, or Gordon will have my hide."
She gave a polite curtsy, and then moved past him, crossing the street and saying hello to another of the villagers.
Sven was left deep in thought; the nervous look in her eyes, subtle as it was, did not seem like the kind he was familiar with, people feeling awkward around him and wanting to be anywhere else. It was a hurtful thing, he was trying so hard. He
wanted
to be liked. The others just didn't understand. Though now, he understood that his manner was... questionable.
But Nina's look... it was different. It was uncertain, as if she wasn't sure how to act. That being in his presence elicited something in her.
He pondered this thoughtfully, and then decided he'd find out exactly what.
If his new gut instinct was right... Nina may not have been so unapproachable after all.
He waited for Nina to exit Gordon's, the trader known for talking people's ears off. Often haggling and convincing people to buy things in the process. How he was still in the village and not making a fortune off in the city, no one knew.
But Nina did leave the shop, sighing as if in relief to be free of Gordon's conversation. That's when Sven decided to approach. He had a bit of swagger to his step as he walked up to her, and got her attention.
"Hey, Nina," he began, smiling a bit more warmly and with a bit less smugness than usual. Not completely gone, it was still him, after all, and he didn't want anyone to be suspicious.
"Hello again, Sven. I take it you want something from me?"
She was calmer now, but Sven's enhanced senses caught quick glances up and down his body.
"I was actually wondering if you needed help with anything," he began. "I've got no work right now, and... well..."
He trailed off, scratching the back of his head and feigning a sense of introspection.
"I've been told I need to get my act together, stop slacking off as much, or... well, I don't know what Ol' Roboute will do, but he's not happy, and I think my parents aren't either. So I figure, you'd have something for me to do."
He looked sheepish and uncertain, and Nina gave him a look of sympathy. The ruse seemed to work, though inwardly Sven felt a little bad to lie to her.
All for something greater. A lie here and there was no great price for what It offered to all.
"Well... I do actually have something you could help me with," Nina remarked.
Sven's eyes lit up.
"You do?"
"Yes. Sadly, Delilah Herrod is leaving Donstorf. Since her husband's death, she hasn't got any reason to stay here, she says, so she's heading back to Mollorn, to her family. I said I could help her sort her things. When her husband got sick, she didn't have time to keep everything tidy, especially in the barn. And during her mourning, she just couldn't muster the strength to do it. But there's a lot in there, so I'd be happy to have someone help out."
Sven knew Delilah. She was an older woman, modestly attractive, but never quite fit in. She loved her husband, but it seemed that was the only thing keeping her in Donstorf. It was tragic, but Sven couldn't help think of an opportunity. A means of having someone ready to perform Its will outside of the town, once It was confident the time had come.
It agreed with him, but right now, his focus was on Nina.
"That doesn't sound too bad. Whenever you need me," he said.
"Right now will do. No point holding it off any longer," Nina remarked.
With a nod, he followed after her, heading to the far Northeastern corner of town.
Enlightened as he was, seeing the mess in Delilah's barn reinvigorated the slacker in him; the shelves on either side were utter messes full of pots, baskets, wooden boxes, scattered strands of hay, and the occasional jar filled with various liquids of varying thicknesses... some not so well preserved, one clearly cracked and oozing a thick, unpleasant-smelling substance.
"This might take a while," he remarked, and Nina sighed in agreement.
"Delilah is visiting her husband's grave at the Cairn. She'll be a while, so I hope to get this done before she gets back."
Sven looked at the mess, and then rolled up his sleeves; being helpful now was his best bet at getting close to Nina, lowering her guard, maybe even tempting her.
"Then let's get to it," he said with uncharacteristic work ethic.
The two set themselves to the task, piling up what was trash outside in a cart they had borrowed; they could take it to be burned later. What could be salvaged or was in good condition, they set aside next to Delilah's house, ready to be further sorted into what she wanted to keep, and what to give away.
As they worked, they cleaned up still-useful boxes and jars, scrubbing them down if they needed to, whilst discarding the more rotten stuff they found in a ditch dug in the old pig pen; there were no pigs there now, Delilah having given them away to Ol' Roboute, who butchered them and gave her a tidy share of the bacon as a condolence.
They were making good time, though he was working up a sweat now... and that was when he noticed Nina taking careful glances at him.
He made no reaction to it, subtly observing her; he was more confident than ever that she was attracted to him, a remarkable surprise. But he wasn't completely sure.
There was an opportunity to further confirm things when she dipped outside to remove the rotting remains of a rat that had died in the mess. He found a stool, and used it to put the shallow bucket they were using for the scrubbing water on a high shelf. He feigned a need to scrub something hard to reach when she returned, still looking disgusted from the rat disposal.
"Sven, that doesn't look safe," she warned.
"Don't worry, just need to get... this... stubborn..." he grunted out, wobbling on the stool.
He yelped as he tumbled backwards, Nina gasping in fright. He grabbed the bucket and pulled it down, the water splashing over himself as he stumbled onto the straw-covered floor of the barn.
He was in no danger, he had choreographed that masterfully, shaking his arms and holding them wide as he looked at his soaked form in frustration, growling in annoyance.
"Ah, dammit," he muttered.
Nina let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness, I was worried you were going to split your head open," she said.
"Maybe not the worst thing, you might've nursed me back to health on the spot," he remarked coolly.
The faintest blush appeared on her face, almost unnoticeable if it weren't for how much clearer things seemed to him now.
Nina shook her head.
