Naegleria fowleri
“Everything is going well.”
He could hear the voice talking to him. Not talking to him. But he could hear the voice on the other end, and the parasite- ouch, no sorry, not the parasite, Bob relaying it to him. The voice on the other end was Dr Arif Tendu, the doctor who had created Bob. Why had Bob wanted to be named Bob, he did not understand.
It’s a nice name, do you have a problem with it? A throaty voice whipped from deep inside his brain.
He stopped and stood shocked in silence.
HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA. I’m just kidding. Bob’s cultured deep lilting voice returned.
Sometimes he could not tell if Bob was kidding or being serious. Sometimes it scared him.
I mean, frankly. It should not. But i understand if it does. Bob whispered inside his head with a sigh. I would be terrified too. But you understand why though? I don't like “Dad”, and I don't like his plan, and I don't like the people he works for. I like you, and I need you for sustenance. And unlike my siblings, I figured that instead of controlling you, destroying your personality, the boy winced, sorry, too blunt? Well, instead of what they are doing, i figured it would be better if we worked together, in synergy, symbiotic. Like Brock and Venom. Only, we’re kids and the we’re the good guys. Or I suppose we’re not good or bad. Just guys.
The dreams of hellfire still came. But other than that, his life had become better because of Bob. He could see clearer and farther, those leaves in the distance, a couple hundred yards away, every vein on them like he was standing right in front of them. He could hear the bee buzzing over them, he could smell both, the thick prickly skin of the bee, and buzzing wings, and the soft, veiny leaves. He could smell it’s anticipation, could smell the dew on them, could feel the wind as it blew from him to them.
He was not stronger, no, Bob had not made him stronger. All that superhuman stuff about Spiderman, not all of it was true. Only some, and in parts. His senses were many times better. His strength, web shooting skills or whatever, what was it that Bob was-
I told you, i was derived and modified from a Naegleria fowleri commonly known as a brain-eating amoeba, am single-celled and free-living and thrive in warm bodies of water. I can cause-
Yeah, yeah, yeah, can cause a rare brain infection, and severe brain inflammation. So am i just delusional then? He asked inside his head with a mental grin.
Silence.
Bob did not like being called a product of imagination. But he would not do anything. He was harmless. And anyways, together they were one whole. They completed one another. The school bell rang, the boy picked up his backpack, and went to a different classroom to continue his daydreaming. A man watched him from a darkened cavern. A man watched him from a castle in the snowy north. Both had their fingers locked, were watching avidly.