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Paul Matthews made his last decision in blowing up the meteor. He made his last decision without anybody else in his head directing him. And it cost him his life, his control, any sense of self he had.
When he awoke after the explosion, he was surprised to find himself even alive. But he quickly realized he wasn’t in control. His body was already moving, and he wasn’t.
“Hello?” The words never left his mouth, simply echoing in his little corner of his mind. Was he even in his mind anymore? It was awfully black… And he was looking at himself - or at least his body - from an outside perspective.
Another voice answered him, however. It was loud, booming, and assertive, a voice he now recognized as his god, his puppeteer. “Hello, Paul. Welcome to your new home: the Black and White.”
He shook his head, watching his body move without him controlling it. What he found most interesting, besides all of the blue, goopy, slimy cracks all along his arms and neck, was the white, shattered mask covering his face.
“What did you do to me?”
“I simply made you a part of the Singular Voice. Congratulations, Paul. You’ve become the Hive Leader.”
His spiritual heart pounded in his spiritual chest. “That’s not me.”
“Oh, no. Of course not. I couldn’t let you stay in your body. Other members fight me enough. They don’t recognize how wonderful it is in the Hive. If you were still in your body, you’d still be uncontrollable.”
Paul sighed, the god’s words making him realize how dire the situation truly was. “So what do you want me to do?”
A blue light surrounded Paul. “Spread beyond Hatchetfield. Head to Clivesdale, reach the mainland, and take over the world. And you’ll start with someone very special.” The light took the form of a woman of Paul’s age, a couple heads shorter than him, in a Beanie’s uniform.
He frantically shook his head. “No. I’m not killing Emma!”
“And that’s why you aren’t in your body anymore. I’ll let you back in when she’s gone, when you have nothing more to fight for.”
He sank to his knees. “Please… Just let me say goodbye to her…”
“Hmm…” The blue light circled the man. “You’ll have a brief moment to say goodbye, but it must be done through song. Understood?”
Paul nodded weakly. “Understood, my… my Lord…”
“Good. You’re learning well, Matthews. Now, I’ll let you back into your body for a moment to say goodbye.”
And so Paul found himself waiting outside of a hospital room for Emma. He listened patiently to the conversation on the other side, waiting until the military official he didn’t recognize came to greet him and let him in.
He could feel the dorky grin on his face when he saw Emma. What he didn’t realize was that she saw him looking completely like himself. She only saw the man she’d fallen in love with.
He threw his arms around her, holding her tight. He didn’t want the moment to end. But as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn’t stop the song from escaping his lips. “Emma, I’m sorry…”
And with that, he was pulled back out, and Pokey took over again. He watched as he was forced to perform with the other Hive members, watched as his face changed into that cracked, expressionless mask the moment he pulled Emma into a dance, watched as he was ultimately forced to drag her away to her death.
The tearing out of her guts was too much for him. He was forced to watch as he ripped apart the woman he loved, his soulmate. Pokey was right. He had nothing left to fight for now. Or maybe he did…
He was returned to his body as promised, immediately wrapping his arms around Emma. He held her close until she woke up, eyes glowing bright blue. He’d lost her. There was no way to save her now.
But he wasn’t one to give up that easily. He looked up at the sky, towards where he assumed the Black and White was. “Pokey, you are not my Lord. I will never serve you again.”
He reached up and tore away his mask with a scream. He could feel skin being ripped away from his face, blue slime attaching the mask to his face, making it nearly impossible to remove. But when he looked to see how much blood he was losing, his blood came out red. He had fought back somehow.
Emma fell limp in his arms, the Hive defeated. He waited patiently for her to wake up.
She never did. Her life was the price Paul had to pay for his own freedom. Removing something attached to his face fucking hurt, but the emotional pain was far greater.