Among Cattle

It occurs to me that I am no longer... What you could call human. The Attendant, Samael... The Yellow Eyed Angel told me that this human form... The Azoth mimicking my bones and organs, is only to ease my brain pattern into the new and improved form. In that sense, I am not working at full capacity. According to Samael, it will take more time... But I should gradually begin to make the most of my new found existence. Hehehehe... I remind myself of the T-1000 from Terminator 2. Bullets can't stop me. The ones that don't just pass right through me are consumed by the Azoth. Knives can cut me, but what flows out IS me. Living, Me. Explosions. Being Flattened... Those seem to be the only real conventional ways to SLOW ME DOWN. I reform over time. Any fragments that cannot meet with the whole are... Unconsciously deactivated and die.

I get so hungry because of that. Because I am not whole. So I eat and I eat. Theoretically anything with an amount of energy in it would work. As I am not a machine I cannot, say, eat a power line and gain that energy. But I can get it from meat and bone and blood. The smallest rat could revive me from a state of near death. Even less, a wayward fly landing on a puddle of Me. I am not Human any longer.

I considered this fact today, as I was looking around. No sign of Iblis or anyone else here yet. I hope to keep it that way. I suspect the syringes filled with that WONDERFUL Apocalypse Juice might be somewhere here. No luck so far, but then... I expected as much. Honestly, I am on standby for a call from MARCUS. He will have an easier time locating anything useful. I assume a different Thoughtborn will be sent on Media Duty. Heheheh. It's funny. I have never seen any Runner throw any theories about this out... They always just assume that we have people in the various Governments who can shut down any and all Media attempts to show off our activities. Consider. What is a Phone Call? An E-Mail? A News Broadcast? Now. Think of the nature of a Thoughtborn. Floating around out there with all the signals and waves. Minds connected to an intelligence so eldritch and beyond comprehension that it, in a way, elevates them above Normal Humanity. Thoughtborn can intercept E-Mails, Phone Calls, TV Broadcasts, Youtube Videos. They edit them, censor them and distort them in ways to undetectable and perfect, no one would notice a thing. They can do it in seconds. True. The Governments make it absurdly easy with their own little spy tools. But they can be censored too.

Aside from information gathering, Thoughtborn can remotely tap into security cameras, cell phone cameras... Any Camera really. So naturally, since the Newborn's children don't quite want to end the world just yet, we are getting OODLES of support from their weird ilk. Odds are you know... If you have a Cell Phone with a Camera, a Computer with a webcam or Microphone, and obviously if you are near any conventional security cameras... Right now, even as you read this, you are being watched. You are being studied and you are being analyzed. Given our current alliance... This means that, if they are feeling generous, I might get a phone call from a distorted voice telling me all about you. Where you are, what you are doing, what you are wearing, any weapons. Fun stuff. But I am busy. So busy. Just waiting for them to find TWO little Syringes in this big, wide world. A somewhat difficult task even for them.

So I was walking along, under their watchful eyes among the herds. Among the sheep. Do you know, I can your heartbeats now? It was so hard to... Tune out and turn off at first. Always there. Thump Thump, Thump, Thump. Endless thumping all around me. My mind would drift off into imagination. I would see myself RIPPING out that hateful drum and tearing into it. Feeding my hunger, as the pain washes away beneath a tide of red, wet blood. But these sheep... They had no idea who they walked with. What they walked with. Once I was a wolf walking among them but now... I am something more. Bigger and hungrier. Am I a Tiger, staring down these pitiful two-legged goats. No. So much hungrier. I am Colder than that. Maybe I am a Crocodile leering at a herd of dull witted Antelopes drinking at the watering hole. No... Bigger. Greater. Hungrier. So Hungry.

Then it came to me. Obvious in hindsight, what I am now. I am a Shark. A mighty killing machine, ever hungry, ever hunting for fresh meat. But... Unlike them I can walk upon dry land, I can feed on anything that lives and breathes and has a heart beating red blood through decaying veins. I keep moving and moving and hunting and feeding, ripping and tearing biting chunks of wet red flesh, snapping bones to drink the marrow from the crumbling bits, ripping open organ and chewing crunchy, chewy bits of ragged bloody skin...

Everything around me was food. The revelations hit me hard, but lifted such weight... I am the top of the food chain. I can pull the entire thing into my maw and chew it to pieces. Nothing living can stop me. Nothing living can KILL me. I am no longer of humanity. No longer bound by their flaws and their sins. Your flaws and your sins... You don't deserve to die for what you did. You don't deserve to die for what you did not do. No longer for my suffering, no longer for my hate. You deserve to die because you are Food.

You are Food and I am hungry.