Cosmic Wonder
Stan was pathetic. It was a fact, and nothing could convince him otherwise. How else would he have ended up tied to a pole in a dank basement surrounded by occult carvings and icons and a crowd of cultists in robes chanting?
After being a part of said cult? And trying—like a chump—to leave?
When he knew they were willing to kill?
Pathetic. Idiot. Moron.
Who even joins cults these days? Granted, he had thought it was a stargazing group when he had found them. He had hoped for people as obsessed with outer space as he was. But he had definitely felt the cult vibes that first day. And yet…
The cult leader, with his shaved head and red eyes that Stan knew were contacts, stood in front of Stan facing outward. “With this sacrifice,” he yelled, “we draw closer to our benefactor, Hybrexr!”
“We are yours, we follow,” the cultists said in unison. Stan mouthed the words without meaning to; the habit was too ingrained.
The leader twirled around and brought the knife to Stan’s neck. “I keep my promises,” he whispered, glaring at Stan.
Stan just closed his eyes. Before, he was too much of a coward to believe that the leader would actually follow through on his threat to kill anyone that “betrayed” them. Now, he was too much of a coward to look anyway.
Pathetic.
Loser.
Waste of space.
They were probably going to get away with it, too. The leader was shrewd enough to know how to hide the body, and no one else would dare say anything now. And no one was going to report him missing, either. He lived alone, blended in most places, especially at work. No one was going to miss him.
Maybe Kyle would miss him. He’d definitely miss Kyle… if there was actually an afterlife.
The leader pulled the knife away, presumably to get a better angle. Stan tried to relax his neck; maybe if he didn’t tense up the blade would cut deeper quicker.
He waited.
Silence fell in the chamber.
And something brushed his mind.
Oh, child, what have they done in my name?
He heard the slight voice, like a whisper, and couldn’t help a pained sob.
Peace, child. There is nothing to fear.
Stan opened his eyes. He flinched as he saw the cult leader’s crazed face, the knife pulled back for the killing blow.
The blow that never came.
Because he wasn’t moving.
Stan looked around. No one was moving.
No thing was moving. Except him.
Take your leave, child.
The ropes binding him ceased to exist. Stan idly noted there was no poof, no bounce-back from the loss of pressure. He was just holding his arms in that particular position.
Run!
Stan ran. He found some path through the frozen cultists and sprinted towards the stairs at the far end.
As for you worms, the whisper continued, you say you are mine. I accept.
Stan got to the end of the stairs and slammed against the door handle. It was oppressively dark and stormy outside, and he almost lost his footing on the sidewalk as he ran for safety.
He pretended he didn’t hear the screams of agony as the door closed behind him.
Stan sat in his shower, the water having long-since gone lukewarm. He had had the presence of mind to strip down and start washing himself, but once he touched his neck with the soap he… stopped.
Everything had rinsed off by now. He sat there, hugging his legs to his chest, completely still. Staring into nothing.
He had no idea how close he had come to death, but his brain was insistent on figuring it out, replaying every moment from the evening.
Weak.
Useless.
Pathetic.
There was a crack in the corner of the shower he hadn’t noticed before. He followed it up the wall and caught a glimpse of an eye peering searching endless beyond deep—
He blinked. The crack was gone.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And let it out slowly. And took another breath. And watched the light from the cosmos warp around the squid-like being floating across his field of view—
He opened his eyes. “Am I…?” He felt himself tear up.
He gripped his legs tighter. He focused on the water hitting his head and legs and skin and pooling beneath him and droplets falling into space between spaces falling floating looking searching—
He clenched his eyes shut and tucked his head, his breath now coming in fearful, heaving sobs. Any thought that this was unbecoming of a middle-aged man was drowned out by his rapidly rising panic. “What’s happening to me?” he said.
Oh, child, I am so sorry.
He froze. The whisper from the basement was back. “What?”
I only touched you briefly.
The thought clicked. “Hybrexr?”
Yes. I had to know what was happening. I am sorry.
He dug his fingernails into his legs. The ground beneath him dissolved stayed put grew changed color. “Please…” he whispered in terror, “have mercy.”
Do not fear, child. You have not wronged me.
He whimpered. “Then why?”
I had hoped the contact would be brief enough, my voice quiet enough, to leave you sane. I see now I was wrong.
He felt the blood drain from his face. “I’m going insane?”
If no one intervenes, perhaps.
“What…” He struggled to get his breathing steady. “What do I need to do?”
Say the word and I will depart. Your mortal medicine may help, but it will take time.
He shivered. “You can’t help?”
My presence has done this to you, child. I cannot help you without…
Stan ignored the far wall that began to break into fractal parts. “Killing me?”
No! But you would be changed.
He felt the world spin somersault invert stand still. “Please!” he screamed into the floor.
You must give yourself to—wait…
The walls of the shower began leaking dust. Stan screamed incoherently as he saw the shower head from three different angles.
You said that imbecilic liturgy, did you not?
Stan’s screams warped the walls and broke the light into its prismatic parts.
Yes. You said you are mine. I accept.
The terror disappeared. Along with gravity.
He uncurled from himself and kept going. He floated into the air, his legs growing longer and more spindly. He watched as he flexed his toes wide, wider, wider than possible as the seams creased into his feet and unraveled longer and spaghettied out.
He blinked. He felt like he should be scared, but all he could feel was curiosity. Intrigue. Wonder…
Hold to that, child: I name you Wonder, Child of Hybrexr.
Wonder floated out of the room through the middle. His legs continued to extend and shred, joined by others and splitting into more. His veins begin to glow a neon blue. Below his waist his skin cleared and became translucent, his muscles and bones and organs dissolving to nothing. He was left with a dozen tentacles spreading from his hips, trailing off and away from him.
The transformation continued up his abdomen. Three more tentacles grew out, these a bit thicker than his new legs, but instead of growing skinnier as they grew, the ends became toothless maws, mouths leading back to his new stomach, a dark void in his center. Another mouth opened on his belly. He reached down and touched its edges; he licked his fingers: the salt and desperation were still there.
Wonder looked back at his arm. He watched the skin lose all pigment and become a translucent blue. His bones disappeared in a wave, and he marveled at the new freedom of movement it had. He kept his opposable thumbs even as his fingers lengthened slightly.
Following an unknown instinct, he raised his arms and felt a sudden awareness underneath them. A new pair of arms grew from his chest, just as boneless as his old ones had become. He counted all twenty of his fingers and giggled.
He felt the transformation reach his head. Idly, he mused that he wouldn’t miss his sinuses. His hair detached from him and floated out into the cosmos, glittering with reflected starlight. His skull formed its own mass of tentacles, dozens, each writhing in their own fashion .
“Am I Medusa?” he mused.
“No,” Hybrexr responded, “you are Wonder. And you must open your eyes, dear.”
Wonder furrowed his brow and looked around. “Aren’t they already?”
“Not yet, dear.” And Hybrexr floated into his field of view, fuzzy, incoherent, bending light and yet not.
Wonder reached out with a leg-tentacle. Hybrexr held out a single tentacle that Wonder wrapped his around. It was the warmth of the void of space, comforting.
“My dear child,” she said. “open your eyes and see all there is.”
Wonder closed his eyes. And opened them. All of them.
Purple, glowing eyes opened all over his body. At least five on each leg-tentacle and ten on each mouth-tentacle, including four around the mouths themselves. Four opened on his chest, and six opposite on his back. One on each shoulder, three down each arm, and one on the back and front of each hand. Two opened on each head-tentacle.
And his original two eyes opened, with black sclera and purple irises glowing in the dark with his veins and nerves, wide, innocent, and awe-struck.
He gazed at Hybrexr’s tentacle and saw the infinite cosmos within. He ran his smaller tentacles along it and felt the density of a black hole.
“Welcome home, dear Wonder,” Hybrexr said.
Wonder looked towards her, and saw her. “You’re pretty,” he said.
She laughed with the sounds of galaxies fading to stardust.
Wonder pointed more of his eyes at himself. He ran an upper hand through his head-tentacles and let them curl around each other. The other upper hand started exploring his stomach-maw again and vice-versa. His lower arms explored a feeler or a feeder.
“What am I?” he asked.
“When I claimed you as mine,” Hybrexr said, “I felt your curiosity. Your drive to discover. Your need to go anywhere and everywhere in order to experience and learn all you could.
“Now, you have a body for doing just that. In time, you will learn to traverse the cosmos and explore on your own. For now, though…”
She brought another tentacle forward, this one cradling a dark miasma. Wonder brought a feeder up to it and took a small lick—
Weak. Waste of space. A kitschy brochure promising the secrets of the cosmos. A dead end job. Loser. The gleam of a knife. Useless. Pathetic.
—it was delicious! In three bites it was gone. He felt the miasma make its way up the tentacle into his belly. It felt pleasantly filling for a moment before…
He burped. That’s the closest thing to it, at least. His stomach contracted, and a small, glowing speck came out of his stomach maw. He held it gently in all four of his hands, turning it over and gazing at the bright object. “What just happened?” he asked.
Hybrexr smiled. “That is what we do, Wonder: we take the waste, the cast-offs, the leftovers, the ends of all things, and make them new.”
Wonder watched his new star float away into the cosmos. “Woah…” he said, turning himself around and floating gently toward Hybrexr. “I wanna do that again!”
A couple of Hybrexr’s tentacles gently cradled him and pulled him closer. “In time, dear child. For now, rest.”
“But I don’t…” His whine was interrupted by an enormous yawn; if he had had a jawbone, it probably would have dislocated. “Yeah, maybe a nap,” he admitted with a blush.
His tentacles curled around himself, his boneless body curling into an impossibly compact ball. Two snaked out and looped around Hybrexr’s tentacle, securing him in place.
“Love you,” he said sleepily.
“And I love you, Wonder,” Hybrexr said. “Rest well.”
And he explored.
He saw star systems be born and die. He traveled each arm of the Milky Way. He flitted through multiple mortal timelines and marveled at the small differences.
He saw great fields of souls at rest, recovering from mortal life. He saw those that reached higher, not satisfied with a single life. He met some, and they enjoyed the stars he would bring.
He saw the worms collecting the flotsam from the cosmos, gathering it together for the higher beings like himself to consume more readily. One of them in particular did not like him. Wonder thought that was hilarious before quickly losing interest.
He met other beings like him. None were his particular shape, but they were interesting nonetheless. Some stayed put, some joined him for a season; nearly all became his friends in one fashion or another.
He met higher beings, from lesser gods up to behemoths like Hybrexr. Some of them he liked more than others, and the feelings were mutual. But all had their parts to play in the cosmos.
His journey never ended, for an infinite cosmos by definition has no end. But a time did come that he sought out a return to an old adventure…
Stan walked into the break room at work to see a few of his coworkers gathered around a phone.
“Stan!” the one holding the phone said, almost dropping the phone in the process.
“Kyle!” Stan said back with a smile. He poured himself a cup of coffee and immediately took a sip.
Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that too hot?” he blurted. He shook his head. “Never mind, did you see what happened to that cult?”
“The what?” Stan said with a cock of his head.
Kyle looked back to his phone. “The ‘Cosmos Watchers,’ weren’t you involved in that?”
Stan nodded and worked out how to spin it. “At one point, yeah. Got a little creepy for me.”
Kyle’s eyes widened and he shook his head in amazement. “Well, you made the right call. They were all found comatose and blitzed out of their skulls last night. Must have taken some bad drug or something; they’re saying it’s going to take them years to be functional again.”
“Wow,” Stan said, going back for a refill.
“Yeah. Sounds like the leader got it worst, at least. They’re close to declaring him brain dead.”
“Pity,” Stan said, not sounding sorry at all. “Couldn’t have happened to a better guy.” He poured the rest of the coffee pot into his mug.
The others stared as he immediately chugged the rest of it.
He lowered his mug, a satisfied smile on his face. “Good stuff,” he said.
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “If you say so,” he said. The others said their goodbyes and walked away.
Stan turned back to the coffee. “I should probably—” He caught a burp in his mouth. “—sorry. I should make a new pot.” He caught another burp.
“Are you okay?” Kyle asked.
Stan caught another burp, shook his head, and power-walked to the bathroom.
This was not good. First day back and he was already having trouble controlling himself. He pushed into the bathroom and quickly looked around to make sure it was empty.
Wonder belched. A small star floated out from his stomach-maw. He quickly caught it with his two lower hands and shoved it away. He patted himself down and made sure his extra eyes were closed, checked himself in the mirror to be sure, and turned back toward the door—
Where Kyle stood, mouth agape.
“Oh no,” Stan said, rushing forward and grabbing Kyle by the shoulders. “Kyle, are you okay?”
Kyle blinked. “Wha… what…?”
“Stay with me, man. Whatever you saw is whatever you saw; don’t think too hard about it.”
“Y—what are you?”
“I’m still Stan. I drink my coffee just like the rest of you.”
Kyle blinked, and his eyes focused on Stan. “Bullshit.”
Stan breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, yeah it is,” he said with a laugh.
Kyle’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, the cult was real…”
Stan shook his head. “They didn’t know that, though.” He smiled, and Kyle swore the room got brighter. “Turns out the unfathomable darkness can be friendly. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.”
“Soon,” Kyle agreed. “Wait—did you poop out a star?”
“It was a burp!” Stan protested. When Kyle’s face didn’t change, he sighed in defeat. “Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”