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This was not supposed to happen, the Meld Interface afforded certain protections for the Thraxian mind travelers, chief among them was the incontrovertible fact that memories were unmalleable—the past was the past.

Ax quickly learned that this was a mistaken assumption. Indeed, the Thraxian had—in their arrogance—doubled their error of judgment: they’d underestimated a second species in their pursuit of understanding.

“This isn’t right,” said Ax. “I wasn’t here, this could not have happened in this manner.”

“And yet I speak to you,” said Holly. “You’re of an adaptive people, Ax. Do what you do best, adapt.” The words Holly spoke were incongruent with the motions of her mouth, it was as though her movements were out of phase with her speech.

Jim’s body was still, frozen in time. It was just Holly and Ax now.

“What are you?” Asked Ax.

“You’re the superior species, Thraxian,” she said, the potency of her voice’s venom not lessened for its current target, “you tell me what I am. That is what you do, isn’t it? Classify, codify. Condemn.”

Ax’s mind went into overdrive. This…thing was of a species he’d catalogued. Recently. The realization hit him hard and he readied himself for battle. “You’re a Kereon, aren’t you?” He said.

“Very good, Ax,” said Holly. “Although it took you longer than I expected. I was really laying it on thick there. Sure, I had to use the lexicon of this…human…but I figured that you’d more quickly recognize your deepest shame unfolding before your eyes. And what shame it is.”

The Kereon grew tired of the charade and exploded itself through the constrained confines of the human form, ‘Holly’s’ body burst in a cloud of blood and a hail of gristle and bone. The creature that emerged had thick, brown fur that covered it head to toe. It stood 8 feet tall with 4 boney protrusions emanating from it’s back like upside down buttresses. It’s eyes glowed a fierce amber and were fixed steadfastly upon Ax.

“What do they call you, beast?” Said Ax as he raised his pincers, his shell strobing red and white in a show of intimidation.

“You know me, Ax,” growled the Kereon. “You’ve seen me, been me. I’ve seen you, been you.”

Ax couldn’t believe his blunder. He’d allowed the Kereon he’d Meld Interfaced to return to its home after he’d concluded that the species was absolutely innocuous, too primitive to threaten the Thraxian empire.

“Thereon,” whispered Ax to himself as if he’d just remembered the solution to a problem over which he’d long labored.

“One and the same, Ax,” said the beast proudly. “It seems we’ve beaten you to the humans. Their minds are surprisingly conducive to our abilities. And to sneak in under the watchful eyes of the great and all-seeing Thraxian Empire. Isn’t it funny how that works?”

“What—what do you mean you’ve beaten us to the humans? Explain yourself!” Ax shouted, his anger flavored by fear.

“We discovered long ago that we could live deep in the minds of the humans—in the levels that escape rational thought, that exist well below their consciousness, in places far beyond detection. We’ve entrenched ourselves in these vicious creatures.

“Watching. Learning. Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Said Ax.

“Waiting for you to let us out of these deep recesses and into their core consciousness, of course.”

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Ax was overcome by a feeling of empathy. Those six fateful words—irreversible once uttered, all encompassing, all destroying—bonded Ax to the human for reasons which transcended atmospheric borders and inter-species divides.

These two men had a shared trauma.

“You love someone else?” Said Jim, his tone even, too much so.

“That’s right. I’ve found someone else. I can’t stand to be around you any longer. He makes me happy, which is something you haven’t done for me for as long as I can remember.”

“You don’t know what love is, you fucking monster!” Jim said, his face flush with the coalescence of rage and embarrassment. “If you knew what love was you wouldn’t be doing this to me!”

Holly laughed in his face. “Don’t even go there, Jim. The ‘woe is me’ bit is overplayed.” Holly picked up steam. She spat each successive word with more force as her disdain for Jim finally overflowed in a tirade of anger and disgust. “You’re not enough of a man to even begin to give me what I need. You’re just a small, insignificant roach who scurries about the ground coveting crumbs and scraps. You hide from the light of day and flee from consequences. That’s why you spend all your time at the Institute, because you can’t face me. You can’t face yourself!”

Ax shifted on the dog bed. Something wasn’t right here. He was overwhelmed by a feeling of deja vú. This was more than just empathy, he had seen this before, heard these words, felt these feelings. His heart began to race and his fight or flight reaction began to kick in. His shell instinctively changed colors to blend into his surroundings.

“Oh fuck you, Holly! I’m not hiding from anything. I work so much because I have better odds of finding intelligent life in space than I do in my own home!” Jim screamed and then smiled to himself as if he were surprised the insult had landed so well.

Holly’s face regained an unsettling stoicism in light of the insult. “You’re a failure. You’ve always been a failure. There’s a reason you have no friends, no family who will speak to you. You want to know why no one wants to invest time and energy into you? It’s because you have no potential. You’re nothing and you will forever be nothing. And to top it all off, you got the one person in this world who could stand to be around you killed.”

“No, no, no no! I didn’t get Prox killed! It was an accident!” Screamed Ax, much to his surprise.

He stopped a moment and regained his composure, took a beat to remember where he was. This wasn’t his memory. He was in Jim the human’s mind. The memories wouldn’t respond to him, they weren’t talking to him.

And then Holly turned her icy gaze his direction and addressed him.

“What’s the matter. Ax? Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?”

More in the next comment. r/InMyLife42Archive

Thanks! Writing up the next part as we speak!

I’ll write up the next part this evening and post it as a comment here. Thanks for reading!

Thanks! I’ll continue the story later this evening!

Ax found himself on Earth. The sun was shining. He marveled at the ferocity of its heat and the brightness of its shine—he had never seen Sol from that angle before. He heard birds chirping and felt a breeze against his shell—his body was speckled in shades of red and blue as it reacted to the varying temperatures around him. He had nearly forgotten what he was doing there until he saw Jim walking toward a house.

The large alien, released from his reverie, followed closely behind the human. Once inside the house, Ax noticed varying still images of Jim and a female human. He then turned his attention to a dog who had stirred from a nap and ran to excitedly greet Jim.

Ax knew that the dog couldn’t see him—he was inside of a memory—but the sight of the golden creature made his shell crawl. It reminded him too much of the treacherous Thrall of the Canin of Thrax.

Thankfully, the female human soon entered the room and let the dog outside. Ax could relax. He walked over to the dog’s bed—the only furniture he could see that appeared able to hold him—and settled upon the pillow top and, again, wrapped his appendages around his thorax as he watched the memory unfold.

“We need to talk,” said the female as she sat on the couch.

“Ok…” said Jim with a tone of confusion as he followed her lead. “What’s up, Holly?”

“Jim…you know what I’m about to say. I know you feel it too,” she said as her eyes filled with tears.

Jim’s eyes were wide and he puffed out his cheeks. “I mean, I really haven’t the faintest. Is this about my working so much again? Holly I told you I’m so close to making a break on this thing. I’ll take some time soon, but I can’t just drop this in the middle. You know me, Holl.”

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“God damn it, Hol! Just fucking say it. Don’t make me guess!” Ax was shocked at the abrupt nature of Jim’s anger. It reminded him of the geysers at the Many-Face Pools of Thrax—still waters that, without notice, boiled and burst forth high into the sky with an abundant and violent release.

“I don’t love you anymore,” her tone was even, it lacked the sadness of the previous things she’d said. Ax realized she was more upset about having to have said the words than having felt the feelings.

“What? What do you mean?” He said as he stood from the couch. “What—what can I do? How do we make this better? Come on, Holly, I know I’ve been working a ton, but you know that what I’m doing is important work. I’m finally doing something that matters. Something that helps the world. We’ve been disconnected for a while now, but you know we’re both to blame here. We can work on it. Let’s go to couples therapy. Let’s fight for this. Let’s fight for us!”

“It isn’t about your work, Jim,” she said. “It’s…it’s you. You’re so angry. You flare up without notice. You fly off the handle at the smallest inconvenience. You know that my sister told me to leave you after what you did at Christmas?”

“Christmas? This is about Christmas?” He said loudly. “Oh, come on, Holl. How many times do I need to apologize for that. I was drunk!”

“It’s not just when you’re drinking and you know it,” she said sternly.

“Ok…ok,” said Jim calmly. He sat on the couch next to his wife and took a deep breath. “Ok. Look, I can work on it. I can fix this. Let me talk to someone. Let me show you I can do this. Please, Holl,” he said as he began to cry. “Please, don’t let me go. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Holly just stared at him, her face cold as stone. Ax was not a human, but he recognized that look. It was a look that spanned space and time, the look of cold indifference, the look someone gives before they break your world in half, the look of someone who is about to rip one or two of your hearts out of your thorax.

“There’s no saving this, Jim.” She said matter of factly. “There’s no saving us.”

Ax was enthralled by this slice of life. He’d spent his time observing Jim and the humans at the Global Defense Initiative. In that time he’d witnessed humans planning for battle, developing new technologies, building new weapons, producing space craft, he’d even seen them joking at the water cooler, but none of their actions betrayed any—for lack of a better word—humanity.

But this. This experience. Ax could understand this. Ax had lived this.

“What do you mean? How can you say that?” Pleaded Jim.

“I’m in love with somebody else.”

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Jim Bass floated in the amniotic sac filled with a warm green solution—body temperature. He slept soundly in the fetal position, his mind stimulated by the extra terrestrial serum in which he was enveloped. Scenes of his life flashed before his eyes. He recalled every fond memory from his first bike to his honeymoon. He was comfortable. Happy even.

“This is useless,” said General Ax. “The human brain reacts to the serum by saturating itself with dopamine thereby occupying all active neuro receptors.”

“Indeed, Sir,” said Lieutenant Crix. “A clever bio-dynamic defense mechanism. Perhaps we’ve underestimated these creatures.”

“We cannot afford to underestimate such a volatile creature,” said Ax sternly. “No. We need answers,” he paused as considered their next move. “Prepare the Meld Interface.”

“But, sir, it has not been adequately tested on the human species,” said Crix urgently. “We have no way of knowing what dangers you may encounter.”

“The Meld has been utilized for similar species. Remember the bi-pedal fur sacs of Kereon? Its DNA matches that of the human by 75%—that will have to be assurance enough,” said Ax as he began removing his uniform. “The risk these creatures pose to us far outweighs the risk to my mind and the needs of the many trumps the needs of the few. Make preparations.”

The Meld Interface was a large cylindrical tube filled with a blue serum, thicker in consistency than that which filled Jim’s amniotic sac. General Ax climbed into the solution and sat at the bottom of the tube with his six appendages wrapped tightly around his thorax. He nodded to Crix, partly to signal that he was prepared, partly to encourage his Lieutenant to do his job.

Crix connected two tubes between the cylinder and the sac. He returned to his terminal station and input the command to initiate the Meld Interface. With a whir the green fluid from the sac was pumped into Ax’s cylinder just as the blue fluid from Ax was pumped into the sac. In unison the two beings began to thrash and convulse in their respective containers—violent and unnatural.

And then, for General Ax, everything went dark.

Ax opened his eyes and found himself sitting in a small room with limestone walls. The light was dim, but he could see just enough to make out a single door and a humanoid standing beside it. The very human from the sac!

“It’s you!” Shouted Ax. “How—how are you here? The Meld Interface does not allow for simultaneous inhabitance of a mind. You should be within my mine at this moment!”

Jim laughed, a jarringly abrupt and aggressive gesture as perceived by Ax. “Humans are not that simple, Thraxian. We exist on multiple levels simultaneously. We contain multitudes. I am what is called a sub-conscious.”

“How do you know my species? You have no previous experience of my kind,” said Ax with concern.

“For a species with such advanced technology, you sure are naive,” said the Jim directly. “You really think you could observe us without us observing you back? If you can see us, we can see you. Simple as that.

“That you’ve gotten this far tells me that you’ve seen what we spend our time doing. You really thought we’d build such weapons and not have our eyes fixed to the outside? That we wouldn’t find any and all threats in the sky? Come on, Thraxian. You’re smarter than that.”

Ax knew immediately that Crix had been right, the Thraxian had made that fatal mistake which countless others had made before them.

They had underestimated the humans.

“You’re right, human. We are—“

“Jim,” interrupted Jim. “Call me Jim.”

“Jim,” the word was foreign in Ax’s mouth. It felt less like a name and more like an onomatopoeia for the noise the Thraxians made when they ate. “I am called Ax. But you are right, Jim. We are smarter than that. This is why I am here. I am to learn about your people, I must learn your motivations. This place is,” he paused to search for the proper word, “more barren than I am accustomed to.”

Jim again let out a laugh. Ax wondered if that was a sign of anger or happiness. Regardless, he hated the sound. “Barren. Did you just call me an empty headed dumbass? Where I come from those are fighting words, Ax,” he joked. Ax didn’t understand humor and steeled himself for a battle.

Ax raised two pincers in front of him and spread his other four legs out in a ready stance. “Then a fight you shall have, human!” He roared.

Jim again chuckled. Ax now knew this noise was a sign of aggression. He ran toward Jim who raised his arms quickly. “Woah, woah, woah, big guy,” said Jim. “I was just joking. You know, like, jesting? Joshing? Making humorous words. I wasn’t serious.”

Ax’s thorax burned bright red, apparently the universal color of embarrassment. “I apologize. I misunderstood.”

“The fault is all mine,” said Jim a gracious host. “Look, you’re right. This place is empty. Just this door right here. Your—what did you call it?”

“Meld Interface,” said Ax helpfully.

“Right. Your Meld Interface landed you in a very specific part of my mind. This is called The Region of Repression. This is where we lock away the memories we’d rather not face: the hard truths, the unimaginable sadnesses. I’m here to stand guard.”

“So you’ll not let me pass? We shall battle after all, Jim?” Said Ax, surprised at his own disappointment.

Jim laughed again. Ax again steeled himself for an attack. “Not all all, bud,” said Jim. “I’m not here to make sure you don’t get in.”

“Then why are you standing guard?” Asked Ax.

“I’m here to make sure nothing gets out,” said Jim as he stepped aside and gestured to the door. “By all means, be my guest. But tread lightly; the human mind is a dangerous place.”

More in the next comment. r/InMyLife42Archive

Thank you!

Haha I’ll take that as a compliment.

Oh yeah, Allen is an odd duck, that’s for sure.

Thank you!

I hope you enjoyed!

Why do they call it Stockholm syndrome?

If I had my phone on me I’d look that up. I can’t at the moment, I’m a little…tied up. Oh, yeah, you can’t actually see me. My hands are literally bound and I’m locked in a cage. Fun times. But it’s not so bad. Dr. BadBraun is actually a pretty cool guy.

Ok, sure, it’s a little sad that my most long-term and reliable relationship happens to be with a villain who consistently kidnaps me. So what? Don’t yuck someone else’s yum. We get along pretty well. He doesn’t tie the ropes too tightly, and usually doesn’t gag me—unless of course the scenario calls for that.

Scenario. Sure, I agree, that makes it sound dirty, like we’re roleplaying. And I suppose in a way we are. Not in a sexual way or anything. I know he won’t hurt me, not for real anyway, or at least not on purpose. It’s my role to look as distressed as possible when the hero shows up. And by god, am I good at my role.

I took acting classes to learn how to cry on command. Dr. BadBraun hasn’t noticed yet, or at least he hasn’t let on that he has—so withholding, that one. Why is it that guys always want to act like you’re not as great as you are? Are they all so insecure that they think you’ll drop them the second you realize your self-worth?

God, that makes me sound so clingy. I swear, I’m not clingy. I just—I work hard at this, and I wish he’d recognize the effort I put in to adequately fool the hero into thinking I’m in danger.

Speaking of the hero, where the hell is that guy?

This is why you never fall for heroes—they’re never where you need them to be. Talk about a job that should come with hazard pay. Have you ever been in a relationship with a hero? Jesus Christ! You might as well have a big red bullseye on your back.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” says Dr. BadBoi dejectedly. Oops, did I actually write Dr. BadBoi? I’m so bad.

“Should I scream?” I ask. “Or would it help if I begged for my life? What if I cried? Is this the one with super hearing? What if—“

“Would you just stop!” He interrupts. Rude. I’m just trying to be helpful. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…I’m under a lot of pressure here and I’m just so stressed. I haven’t been sleeping—“

“Shhhh….” My turn to interrupt.

“What are you—?” He says.

“Shhhh…You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Dr. BadBraun. I get it. I get you. Villains don’t get their due. Especially you. You’ve always been so kind to me. I think you get a bad rap. You’re so much more intelligent than those pesky heroes, and not to mention so much stronger! They’re just coated in plot armor!”

His face lights up. I love it when that happens.

Ok, ok, maybe my feelings are a little romantic. Sue me. I have needs. Who among us haven’t fallen for someone we shouldn’t? That’s what I thought. For your safety, please keep all judgmental thoughts securely inside your head until the end of the ride. Thank you.

“You’re right!” He says. “They’re all just caked in fucking plot armor!” Oooh, I love it when he curses. The heroes can’t do that. Those straight-edge phonies. One time when Mr. Stupendo—stupid name, right?— was saving me I heard him say the F word and he blushed. Can you believe it? He fucking blushed.

“You know what I’ve noticed?” I ask.

“What’s that?” He says. I’ve got his full attention. What a rare treat!

“Heroes tend to lose their plot armor when there’s a damsel in distress. You should try chucking me off the building to see if you can catch them off guard.”

“You’re not a fucking damsel,” he says. “For one, you’re a fucking middle aged bald dude, Allen, and for two, you’re my goddam sidekick and they all know it!”

Such harsh words! I can barely contain my surprise? Me? A bald man? Middle-aged? Heavens me. I know I’ve let myself go a little, what with the holidays and all, but to be mistaken for such a creature….it hurts.

I cry a little. Am I not a person? If I am wounded do I not bleed? Ok, so I’m a sidekick. Though, I prefer ‘henchman’ since Dr. BadBoi—did I do it again?—is a villain. But that doesn’t make my feelings any less valid.

“I’ll forgive that slight,” I say in a dignified tone. “But you’ve kidnapped me and brought me here, so you’ll at least let me speak!”

“My god, Allen, for the last time, I tied you up because you kept trying to hug me! You’re in timeout! If you keep this up I’m going to have to let you go!”

Gaslighting? Is this guy seriously gaslighting me right now? I know he isn’t trying to gaslight me.

“You kidnapped me! Not the other way around, mister. I won’t be gaslit in this way any further! Now let me say my piece!”

He rests his face in his palms. So presidential. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and only I can help him lighten the load.

“By all means,” he says. Such a gentleman. I told you, he’d never hurt me on purpose.

“Do you know why they call it Stockholm syndrome, doctor?” I ask.

He gives me a perplexed look. Oh to stump a genius such as he! He’ll surely love me for this!

“No, I don’t know why they call it that,” he says.

“It’s because the kidnapper has to Sweden the deal…” I say with a great big grin.

“I didn’t kidnap you!” He screams. He has such a fire about him.

I just love it when we spend time together. I hope he kidnaps me again soon.

Who am I kidding? I know he will.

r/InMyLife42Archive

Hi, it’s me, your friend.

A dragon’s hoard is at once precious and precarious; none moreso than that of Mazzaroth the Black.

The great dragon rested upon the highest peak in the land of Gabreel and he was content to lounge about his mountaintop, indifferent to the world below; his eyes were turned ever upward to gaze upon the glistening twinkle of his hoard of fire and light—the very stars themselves.

Legend told that Mazzaroth, in his youth, had flown about the galaxy igniting planet after planet, creating star upon star until at last he landed upon the highest earthly peak to finally rest and admire his masterwork. It was a work of myth fitting for a creature of Mazzaroth’s stature.

There were those in the land of Gabreel who were made uneasy by this legend.

“How can we live with a monster such as this literally hanging over our heads?” Said a townsperson.

“Yeah! My children can’t sleep at night for fear that Mazzaroth the Black will come to burn their home and scorch their bodies,” said another.

“The creature is peaceful. He’s not once descended Mt. Galil since choosing it as his roost. We must let the sleeping dragon rest,” said one more.

“I shall climb Mt. Galil and slay the beast! And I will return with the treasures of his hoard upon my back!” Declared Prince Gabbor. The announcement was met with roaring applause.

Prince Gabbor was a fearsome warrior. The able prince had slayed more than his fair share of mythic creatures, but none would prove as monumental as Mazzaroth the Black.

The prince, breathless and weathered from the climb up the imposing mountain, paused to catch his breath. He was still a mile from the spot Mazzaroth rested. The moon was high in the sky, his trail illuminated by the silver moonlight. Gabbor could feel the presence of Mazzaroth, such a creature creates and demands its own gravity. The air was thin and the winds blew strong.

As Gabbor continued along the path, he began to hear messages upon the breeze.

Do not come further. Halt your advance.

You know not what you do. Return to your village and be spared.

This path ends only in ruin.

Gabbor was not to be deterred. He would not close the book on his hero’s journey on the last page. Soon he stood before the hulking mass of Mazzaroth the Black.

Gabbor struggled to see the menacing creature before him as Mazzaroth’s scales were reminiscent of the glowing night sky—he blended into and distorted the very fabric of space. The effect was sickening. Gabbor felt as though he was looking through a warped telescope, his vision blurred and deformed as the dragon’s rib cage slowly rose and fell. But Gabbor was cheered at this realization. The beast was asleep. He could slay Mazzaroth quickly and without contest.

He moved toward the dragon and drew his sword. Quietly.

Do not be foolish, child. Do not let arrogance and ambition be your undoing.

The dragon spoke without moving, or even waking. Gabbor continued his advance.

Every action necessitates an equal and opposite reaction, young one. Consider your action carefully.

Gabbor’s stride was long, his pace quickening—he felt his resolve slipping and sped faster and faster until he was in a full sprint.

Permanent solutions yield enduring consequences, boy. Think first to the future.

Gabbor would not be stopped. He leapt toward the dragon’s cavernous forehead and struck his sword down swiftly through the dragon’s skull.

Silence.

Gabbor cried as the stared at the body laying upon the ground. The dragon’s glow had dulled, it’s scales now a muted black. The consequences of his actions soon overwhelmed Gabbor. He searched high and low for the dragon’s hoard and found not even so much as a penny. He soon found the hoard as he turned us gaze upward.

And then the stars fell out of the sky.

Cosmic matter streaked across the night sky, illuminating the world around Gabbor with flashes of brilliant greens, whites, and reds. He watched in awe as the stars above grew ever larger until they filled the sky with light and mass and fire and death.

Mt. Galil was flattened into a scorched, black plain—the plain of Mazzaroth. Gabreel was reduced to a burning pile of rubble which burned for a thousand years—the last source of heat on the Earth. The fires that burn today—those life giving flames—were drawn from the smoldering ruins of Gabreel.

The night sky is now an empty black canvas and so it shall remain until our Lord Mazzaroth returns and renews this world of fire and light.

Until then, we wait.

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Wow - that is incredibly high praise. Thank you so much!

I hope you enjoy! Definitely a little different tone from that story.