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He comprehends.
He responds.
He doesn't converse.
The Hive tastes of fear, loss of the man, and fear.
He comprehends.
He responds.
He follows orders.
He flies.
He kills.
He protects the Hive.
The man protected the Hive -- his Hive.
He protects his Hive.
His purpose has not changed.
Time has no meaning.
He waits.
He fights.
He waits.
He hears words: day, months, minutes, winter, years.
He knows light.
He knows dark.
He knows protect.
He knows fight.
He knows wait.
He knows alone.
He walks the halls -- alone.
He waits in his room -- alone.
He tastes the fear -- alone.
Always alone.
Surrounded by fear.
He never touch/tastes.
He is sometimes touched.
He is never tasted.
The Hive does not know him.
The man was of the Hive -- the Hive was part of the man.
He is of his Hive -- the Hive is not of him.
He finds the East pier.
Waiting is easier there with the sky above, the ocean on three sides, and the taste of fear at his back.
No longer surrounded, he recognizes more than one fear taste.
A new fear taste.
Fear -- not of him -- for him.
The new taste is small but very strong.
The new taste is carried by a one.
It sits at his back.
He never turns.
He stays still.
He does not want to frighten it away.
It sits between him and the city's fear full tastes when he comes to the pier.
It is easier to wait at the pier.
He returns from a mission full of blood, death, noise, pain, and fear.
Coming through the Gate hurt/bleeding, he is overwhelmed by the other fear -- the one he has named good fear.
The hurt/bleeding weakens him.
He hungers for the Hive touch.
He moves for a taste of good fear to heal/strengthen -- to not be alone.
"To the infirmary!"
He stops.
He wants to taste the good fear.
"To the infirmary! Now soldier!"
He comprehends.
He responds.
He follows orders.
He hates the infirmary.
It floods him with the tastes of fear, sadness, death, hurt, pain.
He is touched there but never shared with.
He is bandaged -- never healed.
He goes -- hungry.
He is a predator -- he knows how to wait.
He waits on the pier.
The good fear finds him there.
It will find him there.
It must find him there.
He is hurt.
He hungers.
He must touch/taste -- or die...
It comes.
It stands at his back between him and the city.
He turns, but does not move.
He is a predator -- he knows stillness.
To catch this prey, his web must be word/noise.
The taste becomes stronger.
He waits.
Hungry/hurt -- he waits.
"John?"
"Hmmmm."
It likes his noise.
It moves closer to him.
He wants -- he waits.
"You were bleeding. Are you ok?"
The good fear tastes so strong.
The hunger for touch/taste almost makes him break his stillness.
He needs word/noise to lure -- not frighten.
He tries, opening his mouth -- finding it filled with the taste of good fear.
"Hmmmm."
"Yes. Good. Thoughts and words are tangible vibrations for you -- aren't they?"
"Hmmmm."
He is comprehended.
He hungers.
He waits.
It moves a little closer.
"But you must be hurting right now!?! This damp air and hard pier can't be all that good for you."
What are the response word/noises to net this prey?
How would the man have responded?
He feels fear.
He does not know how to build a web of words.
"Yes. Yes. I know. You're fine. Blue or not, you're still John," it tastes of good and sharing.
It comes to him.
It gives him touch!
It wraps him in touch/taste.
He is not alone.
The others come.
"John!"
"Hey, buddy!"
They offer their tastes/touches to him.
He is being fed.
He is being healed.
He tastes/touches good fear and more -- joy/care -- hunger for him!?!
"Tmmmm," he moans at the strength of the taste/touches washing over all the hurt places.
He waits -- no longer alone.