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Cordycep Husband

A new kind of man

By JR StinePublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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Cordycep Husband
Photo by Artur Aldyrkhanov on Unsplash

“Are you alright madam?” asked the banker a note of genuine concern in his voice. The answer was of course no, Wanda was not okay. The fact was a few months ago her husband had disappeared with no explanation before cryptic instructions arrived via courier leading her to this location in Tokyo. Now he was dead, burned alive as soon she crossed the threshold into his luxurious apartment, she could still see him there covered in that strange spiky fungus locked in that clear box with all manner of tubes connecting to the windows a strange mist hanging around him, and his smile. Her sweet Victor, always calm and collected, he had to know what was going to happen to him, yet he still gave her that smile, that same smile he had given to her that first day when they had met for ice cream back in college.

“Are you okay madam?” said the banker pulling Wanda back to the present.

“I’m fine,” she lied turning the key to the safety deposit box. The metal door swung open as smooth as the banker let out a breathe. ‘What have you left me Victor?’ She thought taking in a deep breath, butterflies flapping so furiously in her stomach she worried they might burst from her chest.

It was hard to see in side the safety deposit box, not because of bad lighting or an obstruction casting a shadow but because of the tears streaming down Wanda’s face. The flow was constant, a clear river flowing down Wanda’s face, though she made hardly a whimper her face contorted in the most determined of faces. “Was it worth it?” she said aloud before she had even realized it. The banker observed good manners and stayed silent thankfully.

“Could I be left alone please?” Wanda ask turning to him her tears stopping for the moment.

‘Yes of course, I’ll be at my desk,” he said leaving seeming glad to be gone from the grieving widow.

“Okay Victor, its just us now. You can tell me,” Wanda said looking into the steel hole in the wall that held her husbands final secret. She wasn’t sure what to expect, a small DVD player revealing something nefarious, a collection of foreign passports and matching currency, the gun that really shot JFK, but whatever she had been expecting it could not have been harder to see than small black leather bound notebook sitting before a beat up briefcase. The tears started again in recognition.

She took both and placed them on a table in the center of the room, the items clinked as they hit the hard metal table. Wanda stared at both items unsure which to open first. Why? The word ran thru her head over and over again, why had he told her to go to this safety deposit box in his will. Why had he never told her about it before, forty years of marriage and no idea. She knew both the notebook and briefcase, he took that stupid box with a handle to work almost everyday refusing to get another because ‘it work’s just fine.’ No matter how many other different carrying cases she got him, he still kept taking that dam briefcase everyday. Looking at the notebook was harder though, the memory of her handing it to him surfacing every time her eyes looked over it. She could still remember Victor constantly mocked her for writing in a journal and as a joke she had gotten him one to write down his deepest darkest secrets. She hadn’t even known he’d kept it. Having never seen him use it all there years. Wanda wasn’t ready to read what was inside of that notebook, not yet, whatever was inside she knew would be personal and the inside of a bank was hardly the place to read it. But she did want to know what was in the briefcase at least. She needed answers dammit! She clicked the latches open the same way he had done a thousand times the sound triggering a thousand memories of him opening the stupid thing. When he did not magically materialize she wrenched the briefcase open afraid to loose her resolve. What was inside befuddled her more than clarified anything. Just a pile of money and a book she knew all to well. She quickly counted the money finding twenty thousand in hundred dollar bills, there underneath all the money a note reading, A little tax free inheritance to help you in the times to come. A nice gesture she supposed, finding no more clues she turned to the book even though she was fully aware of it content. The book was titled ‘Cordyceps: Making zombies out of insects’ by Victor Funke. Her husbands most famous work, the one that got him tenure and that Wanda had spent endless hours watching him write and rewrite. She checked the book for an inscription but there was nothing. Grabbing the notebook she turned to the first page, “Wanda my dear, I’m sorry that you-” Wanda had to stop herself slamming it shut, her chest began to beat uncontrollably and the room spun slightly, gripping the table for support. In and out she breathed until the pain was gone and could no longer hear Victor’s voice. When she got home Wanda told herself.

Not saying another word she closed he briefcase Hastily throwing the notebook inside her purse before leaving the vault. She raced home stopping only as long as was necessary to shut down Victors account.

The next few hours passed in a blur for Wanda, at some point she came home made dinner, eat it (Whatever it was.) and than found herself with a glass of red wine staring down that black notebook as it sat nonchalantly on the table. Images of Victor bursting into flames played in her mind, she kept running over the moment in her head, she had been hesitant as she turned the key letting herself into the apartment and there he was some kind of fungi covering his naked body, a simple smile in recognition and than conflagration. Wanda rushed towards him as quickly as she could but it was too late, he just sat there like one of those monks she had seen protesting during the Vietnam War as a child. She had no idea why it had happened, why he had left to go sit and die in this secret apartment in Tokyo but he had and all the answers lay in that notebook. All she had to do was open it.

“Fuck you Victor, Fuck you!” she said chugging her wine before slamming that cursed thing open, she started reading, skipping over the first few pages glancing over the sweet nothings and lovely prose, there would be time for that later.

“I don’t know when it happened. I know I was young. I always imagined it happening somewhere in South America when my parents went down there to work at this or that clinic in the Amazon. The most likely time was when I was a baby, my mother told me how I had shook for days and bite anyone foolish enough to come close and than I just stopped as quickly as I had begun. My parents had never been able to discover out why. All I know is that at some point the body of Victor Funke became infected with a variant of an Ophiocordycep spore and either because I was a baby when it happened or there was something unique about me or the spore but it took hold. Now had I been an insect I would have climbed to a certain elevation and the host body would have died and a few weeks later from the corpse would have sprouted spores, which would go onto infect more insects, rinse and repeat. But I think because it was a human that got infected this time it was different. Victor Funke became two people, a new conscious was born one that ran the show and the original Victor Funke now just an observer who could only comment and watch as someone else lived his life. This might sound like torture but it was natural to us Wanda, and we just lived, always knowing in the back of our minds that there was something different about us. We became friends, permanent roommates stuck watching the same twenty four feed. Around puberty things began to change and this urge to get higher off the ground grew and grew but I knew for some reason I couldn’t yet because than that would be the end. This strange feeling that if I stayed high enough for long enough I would just die. After doing copious amounts of research we were pretty sure we had figured it out and yes I know it sounds like something out of a science fiction story but this happened Wanda. We took samples of tissue and did a millions scans in college at first and even more since than. All confirming the undeniable truth that I am a new breed of fungus. I’ll let some other scientist give it some fancy name, I’ll stick with Victor. You can probably guess why I became a mycologist, imagine Wanda being the first of your kind, surrounded by things that look like you but knowing you weren’t like them. I did not know what I was going to do, for years I struggled if I should wait for death or fall into a volcano so I did not infect anyone else. Could I end humanity? Maybe save it? The knowledge was painful until I met you, you remember all those years on campus at that little ice cream shop? And I knew than that I wanted to live. So we did and you know that part of the story... But I couldn’t just let this end with me. I don’t know, maybe I like to think that we are the next step in human evolution, I mean with all the things growing and living on and in any given person makes humanity more a colony for other organisms than anyone would like to admit. Maybe I just didn’t want to be the last. Regardless that’s why I went to Tokyo for my final days, that was what all that machinery was for it, it was pushing my spores out into air and with the Olympics and G20 summit happening not far from my apartment I figured it was the best way to give my kind the best chance to spread across the world. I’m sorry you had to watch me burn I just couldn’t leave any evidence behind and I had to see you one last time. Maybe this all makes me sound like an apocalyptic super villain and maybe I am. But know I love you and-”

Wanda had to stop reading, explanations she could take but love... She wasn’t sure if she believed it but she couldn’t imagine why he would lie. It did explain why being a mycologist was so personal to him. He was just trying to understand himself. She couldn’t blame him for that. She was hurt that he had never told her but understood at the same time. She probably would have tried to stop him but honestly with no one really doing anything about climate change, maybe a mind controlling fungus was what humanity deserved.

Regardless Wanda was tired and for the first time in a long time was ready to get some sleep and than tomorrow, who knows? Maybe she could help save humanity or steer it on the right course or just sit on a balcony as the world collapsed. At least she had her answers now. Either way that was a problem for tomorrow, and with twenty grand in her pocket and no one to answer too Wanda was confident tomorrow was going to be a good day.

science fiction
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About the Creator

JR Stine

Just your average working dude with a passion for the written word. Working on a book but always looking for free lance work in between. Hope you’ll stop by and take a gander at what I’ve got to offer.

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