He rode the tube home that night. There was no need to take a more private form of transportation. The meager possessions he was carrying home would not arouse suspicion, unlike what he had carried home on so many other nights over the last few months. He held the small packages of soy and other essentials on his lap, trying to contain his excitement. His anticipation. While he was annoyed at having to go out to gather such a mundane thing as food when he was so close to achieving his goal, it was a necessity that couldn’t be avoided. It would do him, and his beloved, no good if he were to die of thirst or hunger before his triumph. He thought back on everything that had led up to this point, all of the work.
No one sat near him. Not another person sat in the same rail car as the mag-lev train sped through the city. That was fine; he had become quite used to solitude. At least, solitude from other people. His home was much the same. There was no one around anymore. At one time, when he was just beginning, there were many people. Vagrants, homeless, SIN-less, the dregs of society. That had been a boon in those early days—it was why he had selected the location he had for his home. None of those wretched souls were around anymore. A good many of them were not around because of his actions, but the rest had left of their own volition. He supposed that the drifters protected their own. When word got around of the disappearances, the rest had fled. That was when things had gotten more difficult for him. The work had to continue, to be sure, but it had been slow and difficult. He had ventured far and wide to take people back to his home. Transportation was the largest issue. He could not be caught with them; that would ruin everything. He also took no joy in the act, despite what some people might think. It was something that needed to be done—it was for his beloved after all— but he did not have to enjoy it. He hated it most when they screamed, when they struggled. Silence. How he learned to enjoy silence.
Getting off at his stop, he started his walk back home, picking up as much pace as he dared. He yearned to get back home as soon as he could, but he did not want to arouse suspicion. There were still eyes here. People could be watching. As he moved to areas of greater desolation, his pace quickened. Not far now. He would be reunited with his beloved.
With shaking hands he opened the door to his home and descended the stairs. The warmth, the silence wrapped him like a comforting blanket. He felt at ease. With confident strides he headed for the inner chamber. Soft moans came from the sticky sacks that lined the hallway and filled the offshoot chambers. He paid them no mind. Soon enough they would be finished. Soon enough they would join his family. All his thoughts were focused on his beloved.
There she was. Hanging in that sticky, gooey sack at the other side of the room. Sweaty, matted hair covered her face. He walked over to her and brushed the hair away to reveal the bulging, distended features underneath. His hand on her abdomen felt the pulsing and writhing changes happening underneath. It was almost time. He absolutely quivered in anticipation. Soon it would be done. Soon they would be united, and he would feel complete. Soon he would see in the flesh the one he had so yearned to see since that first day she had spoken to him so long ago.
His beloved. Mother.
