v5c31: The Monster Inside of My Head

The first concept the Puppet Worm ever learned was agony.

It was crafted in a jar full of poison and corruptive Qi. Its flesh and very soul burned at the touch. It flailed and thrashed, as within moments of its birth it was gripped by one of its siblings. The pincers pierced its flesh and its sibling tried to eat it. The Puppet Worm had flailed harder at the sensation, and while its sibling had caught its rear it reached down and impaled its sibling’s head.

It was hungry, so it feasted. Another of its siblings tried to kill it, so it ate them too. It had to keep eating—it had to fuel its body’s repairs, as it was constantly regrowing flesh destroyed by its environment.

It ate and ate and ate until it was the only one left—and then it started eating the poison too, until that was drained. And still, the torment did not stop.

One day, it was plucked out of its jar and brought into the light. Its skin burned. Its eyes were blinded. It writhed once more with pain. It was cut open. It was crushed. It was stabbed. It had foreign Qi shoved into it day after agonizing day.

And then it was placed into its first Host. It did as its instincts demanded, burrowing into its brain and attaching to its spine. The Host was confused. Confused, and terrified, as it felt its control over his body disappear.

But still the agony did not relent.

Limbs it never had before screamed as they had been broken. Its new throat was raw from the maddened howling. Its body shook from fever it had gotten from having to survive in this cold wretched place.

But the worst thing was the memories, the pain they had within them. It relived the destruction of its village and the pain of losing friends. It relived the tortures visited upon it as it curled up into a ball and whimpered.

[Directive. Stand.]

The command reverberated through its being. It could not! It was hurting too much!

The pain increased.

[Directive. Stand.]

The Puppet Worm forced itself to its feet this time. A new sensation, fear, driving it forward. If it did not obey, it would hurt more. The Host begged it to stand. The Host showed it how, so that some of the suffering would be alleviated.

So it forced the dying Host to its feet. It staggered around.

Some of the pain vanished. Some measure of relief came, as it diminished from an all-consuming blinding horror to a dull throb.

Its eyes adjusted to the dark room. Its eyes saw the hunched and huddled forms of others. Others the Host recognized.

[Directive. Kill.]

Once more the command cut through the Puppet Worm. The Host, at first relieved, suddenly lost that feeling. Instead, dread started to manifest in its mind.

Please. Please no. The Host begged, but the pain was starting up again.

The Puppet Worm raised the Host’s fist. It leapt upon one of the hunched and huddled forms. It swung with all its might as the Host pleaded for it to stop.

But it could not stop. Even if it could, it would not.

Because as it struck, as the thing beneath it started to scream, the pain finally went away.

And thus, the Puppet Worm learned.

The only time where it did not feel agony was when it was inflicting it upon others.

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It was torn out of its old Host and placed in a box. There, it went to sleep, feeling nothing but satisfaction and relief.

And then, it was released again into another Host. Into another set of memories.

The directives became more complex. It was given things to say. It was given objectives to complete.

And each time it did so, it would feel good.

Each time it did so, the Hosts got stronger… but none of them lasted long. Their bodies could not handle the Puppet Worm’s existence as it extracted every scrap of power from them. It got better at looking at its Hosts’ memories. It got better at using their knowledge and techniques.

And somewhere along the way, it started to feel pride in what it did. It began to look forward to the time when it once more had a Host and it could be unleashed.

In a Host, it was not just a Puppet Worm. It was instead a powerful cultivator, a being of fury and Qi. It could carve up the land. It could stand under the glare of the sun.

It was mighty, then. Even the techniques from its Hosts’ memories would kill the Host could not touch it. It would burn out the Host’s body, to be sure, but there was one thing the Puppet Worm knew:

There were always more Hosts. It would be retrieved. It would once more have both the power, and then, the blessed painless sleep.

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It slept for a long, long time. It slept, and it was good.

And then, it was once more awakened.

[Directive Prime: Commence Assault on Target Location. Use all available force.]

Directions flashed in its mind.

[Directive Prime: Kill Target with highest cultivation.]

[Directive Prime: Do not, through action or inaction, allow Target Little Star to come to harm.]

A Target with green hair appeared.

[Directive Secondary: If Directive Prime is accomplished, proceed to Capture Target Little Star.]

The Puppet Worm acknowledged its directives and was released. It ate into its Host’s brain and attached itself to its spine.

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Its current Host was the most powerful one it had thus far been in. The Host’s Qi was a heady thing. His memories of combat were sublime. The amount of suffering it could inflict was unparalleled.

The Host even had other, smaller Hosts that would do its bidding. Infected by a Master’s Qi, to be sure, but it had done battle with such things at its side before. They were good distractions.

It pilfered its Host’s memories. It tasted the Host’s despair, forlorn sadness, and his feeling of bitter defeat, and then used its poison to further numb the Host’s mind. Something it had learned to do, as some Hosts had fought quite hard against the Puppet Worm’s control… at least for the first hour or so.

The Host did nothing as the Puppet Worm used his body and set off along the attack vector. It ran at the head of the pack, as was its place.

It was Zang Zeng now. A mighty cultivator, not a weak worm.

It raced onwards—until it was struck. It reflexively offloaded the pain onto the Host and rose. The Host shifted slightly, roused by the strike.

It took the Puppet Worm a moment longer to recover. It had not escaped the pain entirely, and this new foe had made the ache come back.

The thing in front of it was stopping it from completing its directives. If it did not complete its directives, the pain would come back.

This book’s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

But as the thing’s Qi rose, the Puppet Worm felt relief. As it reached the Earth Realm, it was even pleased.

Its Target had come to it. The Host once more despaired as the Target’s Qi flooded the area. The Host was cursing itself for some reason, muttering about the loss of good disciples.

And then the Target said something, and the Host’s Qi shuddered for a moment.

“Mind Control. Gently, please.”

Shock. Surprise.

The Host’s Qi shuddered slightly as the Puppet Worm started its assault, gleefully bringing all of Zang Zeng’s power to bear. It absently pressed more venom into his brain, to quiet and still the Host.

[Fulmination Arts: Heaven’s Searing Rebuke]

The world detonated. A forest disappeared in a blast of lightning. The Puppet Worm grinned. It ripped into the Host’s memories and pulled out another technique. The Target burrowed into the ground to escape it, like a worm.

[Fulmination Arts: Blade of Heaven’s Judgement]

The blade reached into the sky and cleaved the earth. The Target erupted from the ground and clashed with the Puppet Worm.

They looked into each other’s eyes, and the Puppet Worm hated what it saw.

The Target’s body was burning. His Qi was shuddering from the aftereffects. And yet, the Target’s eyes…

Pure. Clear.

The Puppet Worm felt rage at those eyes.

The Puppet Worm grabbed another of the Host’s techniques and forced a disengagement. Its body filled with lightning as it rained down destruction upon the Target who dared to look at it with those eyes.

The Target that still looked at it with those eyes.