Concerning the works of Room 13: Osseous,

All artwork and words are original to
Hannah Carpenter Pitkin unless noted otherwise.

16.9.11

Chapter (Towards The End, But Followed By A Sequel): The Alliance

It was something tangible, I know that. But what it felt through my fingers was more of a beam, yes - a beam. Or, was it tangible at all? That may be irrelevant, hinging between the creative and the scientific. Of course now you've got me all wrong! Science is quite a creative thing! It's more of a matter of perspective - right or left brain, you see. Let me begin again: it was (or was not) a tangible element that somehow came to be in union with me. I feel sorry for it, in a way, (I hope) / hoping there was no mind meld. Of course, mind melding would entrust all parties involved with experiential comprehension, so that couldn't be it. No, but it could have been a parasite: a virus. One which penetrates you for a fraction of time which, seeming to a Human might feel less than a tenth of a second, but - oh! but this parasite must feel it for hours, days, years! What a world my insides must be - an ocean of red, violent arches! Swaying and thrusting and thirsting. Yes, I imagine I gave the little bugger quite a fright! But - having been inside me for so long (in its outrageous time warped existence), building its contemplative timeline and developing relations with my muscles...relations! What the devil would that entail, I wonder? I suppose, regardless now, it has gone. Or - I feel an emptiness rather. Perhaps it replaced some hidden ethereal part of me, some beautiful score within - and now it is just the Parasite and I. All beauty expired; an empire of parasitic-muscular alliance, preparing to sacrifice its own sentience in order to destroy the Monarch: the sad, graying inventor confined to the dome. Perhaps though, if it really is tangible...


It can be removed.




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