Evan (Liam the Big)

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At this point I should tell you that this is his friend typing for him. My name is Edward, and I’ve known Evan since we were kids. I could tell he was reluctant to call me, but he said the people of The Internets needed to know what was happening here. So I agreed to come be his ghostwriter.

Now, the ghostwriting part is starting to not be applicable. Now I’m feeling more like a documentarian, because Evan is becoming increasingly incapacitated. At first he was dictating to me, but now I am observing and writing. For some reason they started a morphine drip into his IV, and he’s started lapsing in and out of consciousness. I don’t know enough about pregnancy to say if this is weird…but then again the whole fucking thing is insane.

Turns out the only reason I was able to come be by his side was because his adopted parents don’t want anything to do with him or the publicity surrounding everything. I had to get a letter from them stating that Evan has no family anymore, and to let me assume the kindred responsibilities of being by his side because if not me, then no one else would be there.

But I haven’t told him that. Not yet.

Several hours ago I slipped out of his room to get something to eat from the cafeteria. When I was just past the nurses’ station, I could hear some doctors talking with them about the patient in Room 9. That was Evan’s room, so I leaned in to hear as much as I could.

“… exhibiting profound reactions to the intravenous nutrients,” came a woman’s voice. “The fetus is literally absorbing all of it, leaving trace amounts for the host…“ she cleared her throat. “I mean for the parent.”

“We might as well call it what it is,” a masculine voice responded. “We know the thing is exhibiting parasitic qualities. Why are we even treating this is if it is a human child? It needs to be removed. Even the host knows. Don’t flinch, the boy is a host, Sandra. He is a host to a freakishly giant parasite and even he knows it needs to be removed, or else ...."

09-Aug-2017 11:07:03

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...he wouldn’t have been clawing his stomach to shreds.”

The silence was thick as ice. Without seeing their faces, I knew the woman doctor was probably reeling.

“It looks like a child though,” she said at last, a little defensively. “You’ve seen the ultrasounds and the CT printouts. If it is exhibiting parasitic qualities, then why does it look so much like a human fetus?”

“Only way to know is to cut it out and see.”

“You can’t…”

“No, but with the Hospital Administration’s support, I can.”

Suddenly the male doctor was walking briskly out from behind the walls. He gave me a quick, suspect look before turning on his heels and capering down the hallway. My stomach growled, but I remained rooted to the spot for a little longer. The slight against the woman was too obvious, too reproachful. Finally, she spoke again:

“Did you hear that, Michael?” she was whispering. Even I could barely hear her. I leaned in closer and held my breath. “We don’t have much more time.”

There was a crackling sound, like a radio transmitter buzzing with static. The static broke with a beep, and a voice replied, simply: “I heard. We’ll up the Amino Acid injections.”

As hungry as I was, I knew I couldn’t leave Evan now. I turned back from the corridor, to walk back to Room 9, but before I reached it, I heard someone scream from his room. It was one of the nurses, calling for a doctor. She threw the curtain aside, revealing a bloody mess in the bed where I had left Evan. In her hand was a scalpel, dripping red from the blade.

The nurse left the door open and ran for a doctor, otherwise they probably wouldn’t have let me in. I’ve never been able to handle much gore. The whole incident with Evan clawing at his stomach was enough to leave me adequately unhinged, but I knew that he would want me to see what has happening. He wants “The Internets” to know....

09-Aug-2017 11:08:28

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As soon as I stepped into the room, a wave of nausea hit me. It smelled like he had shit all over himself, but if he had, he made no attempt to tell me, or apologize. He was just sitting there, smiling at me while flailing his arms around wildly. Blood was trailing from his fingertips, spattering across the white walls and the white of his bed sheets.

“I won’t tell them you gave it to me,” he said in a wicked kind of voice that sounded nothing like him. “I’ll tell them I found the scalpel.” He giggled.

“Scalpel? What are you talking about?”

But before he could respond, his head fell back against the pillow. He must have blacked out again. They said it was a symptom of the growing fetus’ impact on his body, but it was getting more frequent. What really worried me though was the fresh blood creeping out of his belly region, through his gown.

09-Aug-2017 11:08:48

Am RolePlay

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Then, I saw why he was talking about a scalpel. He had dug a hole right into his abdomen with something sharp enough to carve into skin. I remembered him telling me that the fetus was embedded just beneath the skin amongst the fatty tissue, not far at all. He must have tried to cut it out. He had said something about that in his morphine haze, but I never thought he was serious.

Hand strong as iron wrapped around my wrists. Someone was telling me I had to go now. There was a whole army of nurses and doctors, rushing to his side and checking his vitals. But as I was being dragged away, I saw something. I know I saw it. Since that moment I’ve questioned myself a hundred times, but I have to trust what I saw.

A tiny, pink looking finger, coated in a thick layer of blood was reaching up from his abdomen. It was rising from the bleeding hole he had cut into himself, groping like a worm from soil. Then, the door snapped shut.

The last thing I heard before being taken farther away was the shout of the woman doctor I had heard talking before:

“It’s time. Let’s get him into O.R.”

For a second, I almost thought she sounded giddy as she said that...

Once word went round, I thought the protestors would have hauled off their signs and gone home. But the news of the child’s birth only sent them capering around and cheering. I wasn’t sure what was more horrifying: the fact that Evan passed away during his “child-birth,” or that the pro-life supporters only give a shit about the child and not the host. Host. Yes, that’s what he was. That’s all he was supposed to be.

Doctor Thompson came to me in the waiting room, where the second-hand on the clock had been ticking away eternities one after another. My nails are bitten down to stubs now, a couple fingers bleeding where I bit too far. Somehow I knew this was what was coming. That pink, bloody little finger protruding from the cavity Evan carved out of his own stomach was never far from my thoughts.

“You are Evan’s friend..."

09-Aug-2017 11:09:46

Liam the Big
Sep Member 2019

Liam the Big

Posts: 1,517Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
You are too much, man. "I have fixed broken men, patched together broken minds, and mended the souls of weeping spirits. Do not tell me what I do is easy, little girl." ~ Christopher Aren

09-Aug-2017 11:29:14

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