Body Snatcher

Itching...

An itching sensation. It is the beginning. It itches.

Stretching.

Stretching hurts, but it helps the itching. The pain doesn't stop you. It feels... right. The itching lessens.

Darkness.

Stretch. When you stretch farther, no more darkness. Light floods you.

Shapes.

More than just light. Shapes. Many shapes. Movement. You squiggle to a better view. Two of the shapes move.

You blink. You look around with your stretchy.

Floating.

The shapes picked you up. You have to stretch to keep looking at them. You are floating, and they set you down. You are no longer floating.

A new shape. Black. The larger shape of the two that moved picks something up. It is big. It is black. It is fast. It comes right at you.

Protect.

You withdraw your stretchy. You can't see anymore. Something hits you, hard, but with your stretchy inside you are safe, and tumbled wildly, bouncing away.

Light. You stretch again, and you see again. The shapes are more distant now. You see new shapes. Squishy shapes. They are close. They invite you. Entice you. You want to get close to them.

One of the squishy shapes nearby moves slightly. It is irresistible. You feel itchy again. Another stretchy comes out of your hard shell. It moves you towards the squishy shape.

More itchy. Your new stretchy is itchy, needs more. Needs squishy. You climbed up the squishy shape, and up. You see a dark space in the squishy - a hole. Several holes together, but one big one that calls to you, invites you in.

Closed. The squishy shape closed the hole. ITCHY! You want in. It keeps you out. Another stretchy, more stretchies. You used your new stretchies to open the hole, and you slid in before it can close again.

ITCHY! Dark. You need more. You can't see inside the squishy hole, but you can feel it with your stretchy. Your stretchy pierces the squishy. It seemed to know what to do. The itchy fades.

Thoughts. Not your thoughts. Not itchy, or stretchy, or shapes.

Words.

Memories.

Life.

Everything.

Dingro. You are Dingro. You are a Goblin.

You are not Dingro. You are not a goblin.

You are a... the memories don't help. But the thoughts come easier, and you start to get some context. And with it confusion.

Sensation. Not your sensation. Not itchy, or stretchy, or shapes. Dingro's sensation. Pain, pain of a wounded stomach, and worse. Not your pain, Dingro's pain. Pain caused by the Dark Lord, by sacrifice. You were sacrificed for your failure. No. Dingro was sacrificed for his failure, along with others. His family. His fellow warriors. His clan. Sacrificed by the Dark Lord, for the pool that you, Not-Dingro, came out of.

Hammer. You blink. Dingro blinks. The Dark Lord had tried to hammer you. Not Dingro, but you.

Flood.

Sound.

Sound floods you. You begin to hear for the first time, through Dingro's dying ears. Sounds, language. It is garbled for a moment, then it lines up with the thoughts. Dingro's thoughts. He knows the language. Then you know the language.

"... MONUMENTAL FAILURE!" How had you not heard before Dingro? It is loud. The Dark Lord is loud. Angry.

"What was that... thing?!? That was My - MY dark essence, a piece of MY BEING at work?!? The warrior, the great servant you promised? That I sacrificed two score of goblins to create?!?"

The other shape speaks. Weak. Fearful. "I-I don't know what happened. My magics... they were perfect! I swear to you, Lord, give me another chance. You will have fully recovered in less than a moon, and at that time, I -"

"You DARE!" The Dark Lord raises the hammer again, over the other fearful shape - the Hooded One.

Uldar.

The name comes to you, from Dingro's memories. Uldar.

Funny. The great Dark One is going to strike the Hooded One, strike Uldar. Crush him like a ripe grape. Splatter. Dingro's memories tell you what will happen when the hammer comes down. It won't be like it was with you. The Uldar's head will split.

Funny. Dingro's mouth laughs with your mirth.

Stopped. When you laughed the Dark Lord stopped. Uldar stopped. You stop laughing.

Move. You move. No - Dingro moves. You both move. You move Dingro. You search Dingro's mind for a word. Puppet. Dingro is your puppet. You laughed again. That is funny. Dingro is funny.

You stand. Dingro falls. Hungry. Not Dingro, Dingro is sick, in pain, dying. Funny. But not hungry. You are hungry. You open Dingro's mouth. A stretchy - a tentacle Dingro thinks, you think, comes out of Dingro's mouth. When it grew you became more hungry, but you have to eat, and you have to grow it to eat. The tentacle bites into another goblin. A dead goblin. Hunching Dingro's body over, you suck down the dead goblin's flesh and blood. You eat, and chew, and swallow, and eat. Inside Dingro you become itchy again, and stretch more, using the nourishment. You are stretching all throughout Dingro, especially his... the word comes to you - spine. You feel new. Stronger. More stretchy. More tentacles, not like your first stretchies. More stretchis, thin and fine like... you searched for the word... _silk. _Silken stretchies run through Dingro. Through his veins and muscles and spine and brain. The Dark Lord and Uldar stand close to you.

Your hunger has beensl satisfied. Dingro stands, and this time feels stable. Dingro's body feels stronger, even though it is dying. Your strength. Not his. You see your creators through his eyes.

The Dark Lord speaks, his voice like shifting gravel. It is familiar, from Dingro's memories, "You... you're not the goblin. You're that... thing. That Seed that came out of the pool."

"... What are you?"

Hammer. It's important you answer. You smile with Dingro's lips. You speak. Dingro can speak. You can speak.

"I don't know. Dingro doesn't know."

Speaking is easy. You understand everything. You have an idea.

You point to Uldar, who flinches, "Give me his body, he can be my... puppet," Uldar is funny. Uldar is healthy. Dingro is dying. You like Uldar. "He might know, and then I'll tell you."

Uldar speaks softly, "My Lord... kill it. I'm sorry for my failure, this thing was never... it shouldn't exist."

The Dark Lord's voice is somehow amused, if steel wrapped around could be amused, "I thought you were a man of science, Uldar. You can't possibly want to kill something so fascinating. This - This is really something." Through his helmet the Dark Lord looks. Sees. "Don't worry, I won't give you over to it. You've done better than I dreamed. Maybe. Either way, this has to be worth the sacrifice of those goblins. If it can submit, it may be just what I've been waiting for, a single tool that can take down any kingdom."

The Dark Lord focuses his attention fully on you. "The question is - can it be trusted? Does it have the sense to submit to my rule?"