Rikk's body was healing. Jake could see it happening through their shared awareness. Bones knitting back together with the resilience of youth. Tissue regenerating. The punctured lung sealing itself slowly but steadily. Gremlin physiology was robust, adapted for a harsh environment where injuries were common and medical care was primitive.

  But the neural damage was getting worse.

  Jake monitored the deteriorating pathways with growing frustration. He wasn't an expert in gremlin neurology. Didn't have training or understanding beyond what he'd absorbed from inhabiting hosts. The patches he'd created to bypass trauma damage were crude, held together through constant effort rather than proper integration.

  And they were failing. A little more each day.

  The problem was fundamental. Jake understood human neural structures from experience. Could extrapolate to rats and bats and panthers because mammalian brains shared basic architecture. But gremlins were different enough that his patches were approximate at best. Close enough to work temporarily but not precise enough to last.

  Every repair he made created new problems. Bypassing one damaged pathway meant overloading adjacent structures. Maintaining motor control through artificial connections meant burning through neurotransmitters faster than the brain could produce them. Keeping critical functions active required energy expenditure that accelerated overall degeneration.

  I'm making it worse, Jake acknowledged. Trying to help but actually speeding up the decline. Don't know enough. Can't fix properly.

  But what was the alternative? Let Rikk die from the bear injuries? That would have happened days ago. At least this way the young gremlin was alive. Conscious. Healing physically even if dying neurologically.

  Is good, Jake thought, then caught himself. Wait. No. That's good. Not "is good." English, man. Speak proper English in your own head.

  The realization was uncomfortable. His internal monologue was starting to mimic gremlin speech patterns. The broken grammar. The simplified syntax. It was subtle but present, creeping into his thoughts without conscious effort.

  The hosts are affecting me, Jake understood. Not just giving me abilities. Actually changing how I think. How I process. Reshaping my consciousness to match theirs.

  He forced himself to think in proper English. Complete sentences. Standard grammar. Maintaining his identity. Keeping the "Jakeness" intact despite being nested in increasingly complex foreign minds.

  I am Jake, he reminded himself. Human consciousness in parasitic form. Not gremlin. Not any of the hosts. Still me. Still human. Still...

  Is still...

  Fuck.

  The morning brought new problems. Rikk tried to reach for water and his hand jerked violently. The wooden cup flew from his fingers, bounced off the wall, clattered across the floor. Water spilling everywhere.

  Grikk, checking on his patients in the healing warren, noticed immediately. "You okay, Rikk?"

  "Hand not work right," Rikk said, staring at his own fingers like they'd betrayed him. "Try to grab, but hand go wrong direction. Why happen?"

  "Injury affect nerves maybe," Grikk suggested, but his expression was uncertain. "Body still heal. Give time. Should improve."

  But Jake knew it wouldn't improve. The neural pathways controlling fine motor function were degrading faster than he could compensate. The patches were failing. Every day would bring more visible deterioration.

  Rikk tried to stand later that afternoon. His left foot dragged. Not much. Just enough to catch on the uneven floor. The young gremlin stumbled, caught himself on the wall, looked down at his leg with growing fear.

  "Leg not work. Hand not work. What wrong with me?"

  Jake felt the confusion and terror bleeding through their connection. Rikk was healing physically. The ribs were mending. The lung was sealed. The external bruising was fading. But coordination was getting worse. Motor control failing. Speech occasionally slurring when he tried to talk.

  Why body betray? Rikk's thoughts spiraled. Spirit-blessing suppose to make strong. Make better. Why now make worse?

  He still attributed it to the injuries. Couldn't conceive that the blessing itself was the problem. That divine protection was actually parasitic consumption eating his brain from inside.

  The village noticed. Gremlins watching Rikk's decline with mixture of sympathy and something darker. Relief, maybe. That dangerous power was fading. That the blessed-one who'd charged a bear recklessly was becoming less threatening.

  "Blessing fade?" Jake heard whispered conversations through Rikk's awareness. "Spirit leave him after bear charge?"

  "Maybe spirit angry. Rikk use blessing stupid. Spirit take back."

  "Is good maybe. Power without wisdom is dangerous. Better it go."

  The children still looked at Rikk with awe. He'd killed a shadow-cat and survived a bear. Those were legendary feats regardless of aftermath. But the adults were wary now. Watching the deterioration. Treating Rikk like cautionary tale rather than hero.

  From glory to pity in less than week, Jake observed. Less than a week. Proper English. Stay focused.

  Vessa didn't visit again. Rikk asked about her constantly. Where was she? Was she okay? Had she said anything about him?

  Grikk finally answered honestly after Rikk's sixth inquiry. "She scout now. Is busy. Has duties. Village needs her attention."

  Everyone knew the truth. Vessa was avoiding Rikk deliberately. The reckless charge had destroyed whatever interest she'd developed. Replaced attraction with uncomfortable pity. She didn't want to watch him decline. Didn't want to deal with the heartbreak in his eyes every time she showed up.

  Easier to stay away, Jake understood through Rikk's cultural knowledge. Kinder maybe. But hurts more.

  Rikk's heartbreak compounded the physical pain. He'd had her attention. Her respect. Her smile. And he'd thrown it away charging a bear because he thought the spirits would protect him. Now she wouldn't even visit. Wouldn't even pretend to care.

  Jake felt every moment of that emotional agony. Couldn't block it. Couldn't comfort. Could only experience Rikk's suffering while knowing he was the cause.

  Tikk visited daily. Always bringing "medicine" or "healing potions" that were thinly disguised poison attempts. Always probing with her magical perception. Always watching Rikk's decline with predatory focus.

  The old shaman's frustration was visible. Her poison attempts kept failing. The toxic immunity Jake had absorbed from the rat neutralized everything she tried. Different toxins. Different delivery methods. All useless.

  "Drink this," Tikk said on the third day, bringing a tea that smelled wrong even to Rikk's limited senses. "Help blessing settle. Make stronger."

  Rikk drank obediently. Trusted completely despite Jake's internal screaming.

  The poison hit his system. Something derived from swamp fungi. Neurotoxin that should cause paralysis and respiratory failure. Jake's cellular adaptations broke it down immediately. Rendered it harmless. Expelled it through normal metabolic processes.

  Nothing happened.

  Tikk watched with barely concealed rage. "This... is not correct. Should work. Always work on others. Why not you?"

  She caught herself. Forced smile. "I mean, why blessing not help you heal faster? You still have motor problems. Still weak. Blessing should fix."

  "Maybe I not worthy," Rikk said quietly. "Maybe spirit angry. Took blessing back."

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "No," Tikk said too quickly. "Blessing still there. Still strong. Just... changing. Moving. Need to understand better. Study more."

  She left that visit more agitated than ever. Jake watched her shadow through Rikk's blurred vision. The shaman was planning something. Getting desperate. Time was running out for her to extract whatever she thought the blessing was before it disappeared.

  She'll try something direct soon, Jake calculated. No more subtle poison. Actual intervention. Maybe try to transfer blessing to herself somehow. Or just kill Rikk and hope it jumps to her.

  Can't let that happen. Can't give her the opportunity.

  But Jake had his own problems. The hunger was overwhelming now. Constant. Demanding. The addiction screaming for satisfaction every moment.

  He had to feed to maintain energy for neural repairs. The patches required constant attention. The bypassed pathways needed active maintenance. All of it burned through resources faster than passive absorption could replenish.

  So Jake fed on Rikk's memories. Small bites. Frequent. Necessary.

  Each bite hastened the neural decline. Created more damage on top of trauma. Made the motor control worse. Accelerated the timeline toward inevitable death.

  Vicious cycle. Feed to keep Rikk alive. Feeding killed Rikk faster. Need to feed more to compensate for damage from feeding. Round and round. Spiraling toward conclusion.

  And addiction make worse, Jake thought, then caught himself again. Makes it worse. English. Stay human.

  The addiction was the real problem. Jake could theoretically ration carefully. Take only what was strictly necessary. Maintain discipline.

  But intelligent memories tasted too good. Every bite was rush that demanded more. The complex thoughts. The emotional context. The self-aware consciousness reflecting on its own experiences. All of it so much richer than simple animal awareness.

  Jake found himself taking more than needed. Couldn't help it. The hunger demanded satisfaction beyond mere energy requirements. Wanted the taste. The experience. The high.

  And Rikk had such good memories.

  Mother teaching him to be brave after father left. "Is okay to be scared, little one. Brave not mean no fear. Brave mean do anyway. You can do. I know you can."

  The memory dissolved into Jake with flavor that made everything worthwhile. Not just the words but the context. Rikk's love for his mother. Her faith in him. The comfort of being believed in.

  Gone. Consumed. Erased from Rikk's neural structures. Part of Jake now instead.

  Vessa smiling at Rikk two months ago. Before the blessing. Before everything. Just genuine kindness toward small gremlin struggling with heavy pack. "Here, I help. Is too much for one." Simple gesture. But Rikk had treasured it. Replayed it constantly. First time she'd shown him real attention.

  Another bite. Another precious memory consumed. Rikk wouldn't remember that moment anymore. Would lose another piece of why he'd fallen for Vessa.

  Dreams of being respected. Being seen. Mattering to someone. Becoming gremlin worth acknowledging. Simple dreams. Humble. Just wanting to not be invisible anymore.

  Jake consumed them all. Turned dreams into energy. Erased aspirations. Left emptiness where hope had been.

  Each memory broke his heart while satisfying his hunger. The most conflicted feeding yet. He hated himself for taking them. Hated the addiction for demanding them. Hated that he couldn't stop.

  Is worse every time, Jake thought. No. It's worse. Proper English. It's worse with each intelligent host. Addiction deepening. Control slipping. Becoming more parasite, less... less...

  Less what? Less human? Was never good human anyway. Is just...

  STOP. English. I am Jake. I think in English. This is my language. My identity. Stay focused.

  The sixth day brought motor control failure that couldn't be hidden. Rikk reached for a cup of water Grikk had brought. His hand spasmed violently. The cup flew. Water splashed across the healer and two other gremlins who'd come to check on the recovering scout.

  "You okay, Rikk?" One asked with genuine concern.

  "Hand not work," Rikk's voice came out slurred. Terrified. "Why body not work right? Healing, yes? Should get better. But get worse. Why?"

  Nobody had good answer. Grikk muttered about nerve damage from the bear attack. About needing more time. About spirit-blessing working in mysterious ways.

  But Jake knew the truth. The neural degeneration was accelerating. The patches were failing faster than he could repair them. The feeding was creating more damage than healing could offset.

  Two days, Jake calculated grimly. Maybe three maximum before critical failure. Motor control will be completely gone. Then speech. Then autonomic functions. Then death.

  Unless I make choice first. Quick. Merciful. End it before complete deterioration.

  The thought sat heavy in his consciousness. Active choice. Deliberate killing. Not circumstance. Not necessity. Just decision to end suffering he'd caused.

  First time choosing from start, Jake acknowledged. Bat was circumstance. Rat was survival. Panther was impulsive. But this? This is murder. Planned. Conscious. Mine.

  Grix visited late afternoon. The chief entered the healing warren with his usual presence. Fear aura subdued but present. Making everyone uncomfortable just by existing.

  Rikk felt it. Tried to draw on the warm glow Jake had created. But the "blessing" was weak now. Barely functional. Not enough to buffer Grix's projection.

  The chief studied Rikk silently. Long moments. Predator's patience. Reading everything about the young gremlin's condition through observation alone.

  "Blessing leave you?" Grix asked finally. Not accusatory. Just curious.

  "I... not know. Something wrong. Body not work. Spirit angry maybe?"

  "Is always cost to power," Grix said quietly. Deep voice carrying weight. "Always. Power without price is lie. Spirits give, but spirits take. Always take."

  He reached out. Placed one large hand on Rikk's head. The contact was brief but Jake felt something. Grix was reading Rikk somehow. Not with magical perception like Tikk. Something else. Emotional resonance maybe. Understanding through projection rather than detection.

  The chief's expression shifted. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. But Jake saw it through Rikk's awareness. Grix knew something was wrong beyond simple nerve damage. Understood the blessing was consuming rather than empowering.

  He knows, Jake realized. Not everything. But enough. Enough to understand this ends badly.

  Grix released Rikk's head. Stepped back. "Rest. Heal. Whatever time you have, use well. Understand?"

  "Yes, Chief."

  Grix left without further comment. But Jake felt the weight of that visit. The chief was watching. Calculating. Understanding more than he revealed.

  Could take Grix as next host, Jake thought. Get closer look at Fear ability. Understand how projection works. Gain position of authority in village.

  But Tikk. She has to go first. Is her or me. Not going to let hoodoo witch gremlin take me down.

  The thought patterns again. Slipping into gremlin syntax. Jake corrected himself forcefully.

  She has to go first. It's either her or me. Proper English. Stay human. Stay Jake.

  That night, Tikk visited again. Brought medicine. Different concoction. Darker. Thicker. Smelled of blood and herbs and something else. Something wrong.

  "Drink," she commanded. Not gentle anymore. Not pretending to care. Just frustrated demand. "Make blessing settle. Stop fading."

  Rikk drank. Still trusting. Still believing the shaman wanted to help.

  The poison hit harder this time. More sophisticated. Multi-stage toxin. One component to suppress immune response. Second to attack neural tissue. Third to prevent metabolic breakdown.

  Jake's toxic immunity adapted. Slower than before. The multi-stage approach was clever. But ultimately still failed. Cellular structures Jake had integrated from the rat were too robust. Too versatile. The poison was neutralized. Expelled.

  Nothing happened.

  Tikk's rage finally broke through. "WHY YOU NOT DIE PROPERLY?!"

  She caught herself immediately. Looked around. They were alone. No witnesses. She forced smile. Adjusted tone.

  "I mean... why blessing not help you heal faster? Should work better. Make you strong. But you still weak. Still..." She trailed off. Stared at Rikk with naked frustration.

  Jake knew what she was thinking. The shaman had tried subtlety. Tried poison. Tried extraction through magical perception. All had failed. She was running out of options. Running out of time. The blessing was fading. Soon it would be gone. Transferred to another host or dissipated entirely.

  She'll try something direct tomorrow, Jake understood with certainty. No more patience. No more subtle. She'll attempt forceful extraction. Or just kill Rikk and hope I jump to her.

  Need to move first. Need to make choice. End Rikk mercifully before she tries something that makes it worse.

  Tikk left. Shadow passing through entrance. Jake felt her frustration lingering like physical presence.

  The night deepened. Rikk alone in darkness. Body broken. Mind confused. Spirit-blessing that he still believed in despite evidence of failure.

  "Spirit leave me," Rikk whispered to empty air. "I fail somehow. Charge bear wrong. Use blessing stupid. Spirit angry. Take power back. Leave me broken."

  He didn't understand the blessing was what killed him. Couldn't grasp that divine protection was parasitic consumption. Just knew his body was failing in ways healing should prevent.

  Jake experienced the confused grief through their connection. Wanted to explain. Wanted to say "I'm not divine. I'm not protection. I'm parasite eating your brain. The warmth was accident. The power was temporary. All of this was curse disguised as blessing."

  But couldn't communicate. Could only witness. Experience. Feel Rikk's heartbreak while being unable to offer comfort or truth.

  God, Jake thought. I need to kill him. Actively. Choose it. End this before Tikk tries extraction. Before deterioration gets worse. Before he suffers more.

  The decision crystallized. Tomorrow night. Maybe the night after if Tikk didn't move first. But soon. Very soon.

  Merciful death. Quick. Clean as possible. Better than slow neural failure. Better than Tikk's experiments. Better than watching Rikk deteriorate completely while conscious of his own decline.

  First time making this decision consciously from the start, Jake acknowledged. First time it's murder instead of necessity.

  But is necessary. Is mercy. Is...

  No. It IS necessary. It IS mercy. Dammit.

  Rikk's breathing evened into fitful sleep. Dreams troubled but exhausted enough to finally rest. Body healing. Mind dying. Spirit-blessing flickering weak.

  And Jake, maintaining vitals desperately, monitoring neural pathways that degraded faster each hour, felt the weight of choice pressing down.

  Tomorrow. Or next day. But soon.

  Time to move before moved against.

  Time to kill the first person he'd actually known since arriving in this world.

  Time to choose murder consciously and live with the consequences.

  Tikk's shadow passed by the entrance again. Paused. Lingered. Then moved on.

  She's coming, Jake knew. Tomorrow she tries something. Tomorrow I have to act first.

  Tomorrow Rikk dies.

  And I become whatever comes next.

  The warm glow of the blessing flickered one last time in Rikk's sleeping consciousness. False comfort from false divine. Promise of protection that was actually curse.

  And Jake, source of all of it, prepared for the hardest choice yet.

  Mercy killing.

  Murder with compassion.

  The only kindness a parasite could offer.

  - - -

  End of Chapter 16