The thing came with a glitch: a neurological screaming, a tearing hitch. It pushed through its wormhole and into my consciousness. It whispered. It controlled. It encased me. Or did I encase it? Thuzrung! Thuzrung! The thing’s heads clapped and froze my neurons. I could see its code painted in ink, a sacred language imprinted beneath its scales, under my stretched skin, as if the thing could tear me apart. I screamed.
