Prose                                       
The Parasites
By Charlie Beck

    I stared at this man and realized that I did not know him, that he was someone or something completely different that what I had thought. I told him I didn’t have anything else to say and stood sheepishly at his desk, part of me still waiting for the gratification I had expected. He looked at me for another couple seconds before just turning back to his computer. It was awful. He hadn’t been able to see me. He looked at me in the sense that his body and face and eyes were pointed in the right direction, but he couldn’t see me. At first I turned away with the vague feeling that his eyes had been focused on something behind me or had been pointed off into space, but that didn’t quite seem right. It didn’t ring true.
    I shuffled over to my desk and sat down. Trying not to over think it, I went about my work. The next several days passed in much the same way. I avoided him in general, but naturally, we had to work together on a few things. He was alright when it came to business items. He would go through that stuff without a problem. A little coldly, a little more dispassionate, but he did his job. But on the few occasions when I brought up something personal, even as trivial as baseball, he would shut down. His face would go limp a little bit and he’d get that look in his eyes again, like he was looking through everything instead of at it.
    As the weeks went by it became more and more painful to see him. He seemed to more rapidly lose weight, his cheekbones standing out prominently from his face. His skin took on almost an ashen grey color and he starting to lose some hair. That was nothing compared to the emotional changes. He became rigid and cold towards everything. There was no feeling in his words or writing. He was just going through the motions in every way. Communication became all but impossible.
    On the day in question, I had come in a little bit late because of an accident on the highway and I was in a bad mood. I was already dreading my first task of the day, which of course involved talking to Bradford. I walked over to his desk and he didn’t even look up. I had to say his name three or four times before he even turned his head. He looked awful. His person was all but gone; I might as well have looked him in the eye and seen the water cooler behind him. I stared at him ashamedly. The ghastly figure stared back and I froze. There was something wrong: something very, very wrong. My mind reeled and my body nearly followed. When finally it occurred to me what the matter was with him, it hit me hard. It was his eyes. His eyes had gone concave.
    It’s not actually as easy to notice as most people think. Somehow the light reflects pretty much the same. That’s the one symptom everyone always knows about the parasites, about the eyes sucking in, but it turns out it’s actually really uncommon. It’s just one of those things that manages to capture the imagination.
    My breath immediately caught in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I glanced back at him, completely powerless. What ultimately saved me was something in his mouth. His jaw was slack and the mouth was open a little and I saw something move in there. Toward the back of his throat on the tongue. It was tiny and yellow and it crossed in a flash just like a cockroach when the lights come on. The doctors told me later that it is possible for the little things to explore out into the sinuses and occasionally find their way into the throat. I am convinced that is what I saw.
    The shock of seeing that… thing brought me back to my senses. I went into automatic, my instincts and emergency training taking over. Standing on my desk, I quietly but firmly said, “Quarantine,” in every direction. Then I got back down and walked regularly towards the exit, just like they always say you’re supposed to. I said “Quarantine” again another half dozen times on my way out. I kept my composure. My coworkers were shocked. Most of them thought it was a joke at first and there were a few chuckles. But those who worked with me knew I wouldn’t ever joke about something like that. Some people completely froze and a couple started crying. I walked right past them, like you’re supposed to. They say you should never try to help someone who freezes. It might be because they have the parasites too. Let the emergency squads take care of it. They’re trained for that kind of thing.
    I walked down the hall and had the receptionist call security and get Emergency Infestation on the phone. The doors behind me locked shortly after. The officials were there in mere minutes.