Head Like a Hole

by Andrew Van Wey

“Life,” she repeated. “Give… Life.” He scooted back, heart racing. She wanted his finger. That bite she’d taken on the boat, that must have jumpstarted something. Now she was hungry for more. “No, no, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I, uh… Just no.”

Feed me Seymour!

Stomach roiling, he tapped the window where the whelk’s glistening foot met the glass. The slimy flesh parted, revealing something that had no business being in a snail.

like a lullaby, but opposite,” Oksana had said. “Not for sleeping but for the waking up.”

He needed to be careful. If he got too worked up, he could trigger another episode where he didn’t remember stuff ’cause his brain was rebooting. He didn’t like the other word the doctors used; the S-word.

bus ride was already taking for-ev-er.

Lol

A group only had the IQ of its dumbest member.

Sounds like the MAGOTTS

“Petro is my name, not my only name, of course. And yes, I’m also an investigator, in a sense.” “What sense is that?” “I’m a clinical researcher in the field of pediatric molecular oncology.”

Petro gave her a grim smirk and exhaled. “My postdoctoral research focused on the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the long-term effects of ionizing radiation. They are possibly the most studied cohort in human history. I published several papers and the Soviets took notice.” “Russkis,”

“You said it killed them,” she said. “But what about the girl?” “She was different.” Detective Nolan’s chair squeaked as he leaned forward. “Define ‘different.’” “I mean different. Her body, it adapted, mutated at new rates. Intestinal epithelial cells, for example, are the fastest-regenerating cells in your body. They divide and renew within days. But with the right nutrients, hers took only hours.”

She had vines growing from her fingers and lips circling her eyes.”

“What she cannot quickly regrow she can take,” Petro said. “Like a parasite embedding itself in another organism, a host it can use. Those are Ms. Chang’s fingerprints, but that is no longer her flesh.”

Megan whispered something so quiet she had to repeat it. “Could it cause memory loss?” “Absolutely. The brain is eighty percent water. Superheat its cells and you can provoke a variety of symptoms: discomfort, nausea, time dilation, even hallucinations over great distances. It’s like gravity; it affects us even if we can’t see it.”

Not sure this is scientificly accurate

“The yearbook,” Megan said. “On her senior page, there was this collection of words, like⁠—” “Mmm, like a crossword puzzle,” Petro said. Graham rubbed his tired eyes. “If you tell me it’s a magic spell, I’m going to lose it.” “No, no magic. More of a mnemonic trick we developed. Even her brain cells sometimes regenerate too quickly for stable retention. She uses such diagrams to store memories, like a floppy disk or an insurance policy.”

“You still don’t understand it, Detective,” Petro said. “She is not a girl. She is the sum of many experiences and memories, a collective of all that she’s

encountered. She doesn’t just regenerate; she integrates and assimilates.”

“Yeah, but even a lie points the way to a truth. Or someone’s version of it.”