Rubberwerks 2 - Part 11

The walls were cinderblock, and no one bothered to paint them back here. No customers would ever see. Tatum found the farthest corner behind a pallet of flour to hide this time. The lights were dimmer, and when he closed his eyes he could wrap himself in utter darkness. That pain building behind his eyes was accompanied by a voice. Many voices, actually. All speaking in a chorus of words he could not understand, but their speech drove out almost every other thought.

Thoughts of stolen sex with Jenny were gone now. He might have to tell her about this pain and the voices, and tey would get the fun of figuring out what the local health care system under the dome would look like. He stretched his jaw while he bent low behind the flour, and that seemed to make the pain subside slightly. It was like popping your ears when you changed altitude so quickly. He did it again and found another moment's relief. Only when his lips closed there was something between them, like a spaghetti noodle dangling from his mouth.

Tatum grabbed it and pulled. It didn't slip free, but only stretched. he could feel the tug from inside his mouth, but not a single point. It was as if that strand came from every part of his mouth. He could see it now, pulled between his fingers. It was glossy and wet-looking and very black. And when he tried to shake it free of his fingers, it wouldn't budge, adhering to his fingertips.

Something rose in his gorge and he opened wide, spilling more of the black goo out of his mouth, over his chain, dangling from his mouth. It refused to disconnect from him, but only flowed from his mouth down his chest.

Another round, his stomach churning, expelling more of the goo. This time it did it hit the floor. He stared down at the pool of it, quivering and wet and dark. It shivered and then moved in a lurch, covering his feet. He opened his mouth to call for Jenny, but only expelled more of that same black slime. It was coating him, climbing and winding around his body, covering him entirely. The voices rose in volume, and now he could hear what they were saying.

"One of us, now. Mind calls to you. You are Mind."

His eyes fluttered up, rolling over white before the tendrils covered the last of his face. His body was pulled off the floor, moving up and against the wall like he was a weightless doll. The sticky black goo held him there, wrapping him until all that he was was a human-shaped cocoon pressed against the back wall of the storage room.

At first, Tatum felt panic, his heard thudding in his chest. Then the voices soothed him, claimed him, assured him that he would be made perfect and that Jenny would be with him soon. Tatum felt at ease, and then comfortable. And then the joy of being nothing at all overtook him.