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Parasite is the third part of The Underground series

Chapter 2 of 29

Doctor Who?

The black fox rocketed up, letting out a cry of pure terror escape his lungs. Sweat flowed openly down his body, heart in a frenzy as it beat out of control. His eyes darted around, trying to make heads or tails of his surroundings as panic overtook his mind. In the darkness around him, his eyes had not adjusted to the inadequate lighting leaving him blind to the world. He was confused, terrified, and worst of all, he couldn't shake the feeling of an impending danger that infected his veins like a bad alcohol.

Soon enough, the fox's heart eventually calmed down, and his breathing returned to normal as his emerald eyes adjusted to the darkness. Vision coming into focus, the midnight black fox soon discovered that there was nothing to fear. He awoke where he had for months now, and the familiar sight of his room reminded him of that.

Regardless of whether or not he was in danger, he still felt the sweat dripping from his brow. Feeling a slight chill, he also noticed that his sheets were saturated with perspiration. This wasn't anything relatively new; his awakenings by the night terrors that plagued his sleep. It had started a few weeks ago, maybe a month now. Alias found it odd at first, simply because the fox was not used to dreaming; period. His sleeps were generally dark and vacant of images. As far as the fox was concerned, he'd rather not dream. He'd prefer not to conjure up the daemons that lurked in the dark recesses of his mind. However, it seemed that Pandora's box had been opened.

There was something his mind didn't want him to forget.

Swinging his legs to the side of the bed, he tested the cold floor carefully with his toes. The floorboards were chilly, but doable. The fox quickly pushed himself out of his bed and began his stiff journey to the door. Only being in pajama pants, he folded his arms across his chest, latching his paws to his upper arms to shield himself from the drafts of cold air the ancient apartment had given way to. Trying to be as quiet as possible, the shadow fox walked down the short hallway to the bathroom that separated his room from that of his roommates. The bathroom clock informed him that it was currently four in the morning, and so his insomnia continued. After he would suffer from one of his night terrors, going back to sleep was virtually impossible. He'd lay there until dawn, counting the seconds until the sun broke over the cold, cityscape horizon.

Leaning forward, with his paws pressed against the sink, Alias turned the knob for the cold water on. He waited a few seconds, listening to the gurgling of the faucet before he cupped his paws, letting the cool liquid pool in them. When his palms were relatively full, he sent the collected water onto his face in one fluid motion. Washing away the hot sweat seemed to put the dark fox at ease slightly. It was refreshing as it was cold, allowing his mind to regain focus. Shutting the water off, his ears pricked up as he heard another door open, creaking on its hinges. He didn't have to look to know who it was. Placing his wet paws back on the sink, propping himself up, he cursed at waking her.

"How many nights now, Alias?"

Alias, the dark fox, let his eyes shut. He knew why she asked him this, and honestly he couldn't blame her. She asked because she was worried; and to be frank, so was he.

"I don't know..." Alias replied in his dark tone, keeping his focus on the empty sink basin. "Too many."

"I should start using you as my alarm clock." Alias listened, watching the dark blue vixen move around him as she spoke, the sides of her complementary indigo hair pulled back in a halfback. "It'd be the most disturbing alarm clock ever, but I wouldn't have to remember to set you every night."

Alias shook his head, feeling stupid about his nightly disorder. "Sorry for waking you, Jen." He said, turning his attention to the vixen who had taken a seat on the edge of the bathtub. "I know this is getting ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous." She replied, looking back at him and shaking her head. "If it's gone on this long, it's not ridiculous. Especially if you're still not sleeping." Standing up slowly, she walked toward the fox, placing a paw gently on his shoulder where he leaned against the sink. Alias felt his arm flinch at her touch, the jolt of the shock from the contact echoing throughout his body. However, the vixen was use to this, as he did it every time he was touched unexpectedly. "Do you remember anything?"

Alias let his eyes shut, trying to focus his mind on the images that he witnessed. They seemed to be so clear, and at the same time he couldn't see them at all. The only word that came to mind when trying to think of how to describe them was disturbing. The images were unpleasant and jarring. Even though he couldn't focus in enough to describe them, he knew how he felt about them. It was why he'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

"Come on," the dark blue vixen suggested, running her paw affectionately across his shoulders as she passed behind him, "I'll put on some tea, you can tell me all about it."

Alias knew he wouldn't be able to sleep now. He'd given up trying after the first week of this pattern. Insomnia was an awful thing; a real pain in the ass. You couldn't find the serenity of sleep when you needed it the most. Walking around each day like a zombie, Alias never felt like he was ever fully awake. It was like operating in a dream sequence where nothing felt real in the traditional aspect. Worse, it splintered his focus making any form of concentration difficult. In his line of work, that type of carelessness was a fast way to end up dead. As far as Alias was concerned, if his roommate didn't mind being up at this hour working through the absolute mess that was his mind, then he would gladly accept her company. There would be enough dark nights by himself to come. He'd take a break from all that if she was willing.

Grabbing a shirt from his room, Alias passed the bathroom, but hung a right and walked through the small dining room and into the kitchen. He found her moving about, filling a steel kettle with water, and placing it back on the gas stove. The black fox then felt a slight laugh escape him. She was dressed in a lilac tank top and similarly colored pajama pants that hung off her hips loosely. He laughed because right now she looked completely opposite as how he usually saw her.

Where the vixen worked, the popular nightclub Delirium, she wore a uniform that left little to the imagination. However, she wore it well. The black, reflective polymer material would cling to her body like a second skin, accenting her figure further. The strapless crop top came down just barely enough to cover her breasts, leaving her tight abdomen on display where the fur on her body transitioned from the dark navy to the brighter turquoise of her inner body that matched her hair. Alias would only consider the matching black skirt an oversized belt for as much as it covered. But her toned, slender feminine frame worked for her this way; Alias would give her that any day of the week. Even now, as her light purple wife beater tank top hugged her body, Alias could recognize it. What was funny was that right now she looked like the regular girl next door. A good wholesome beauty founded on innocence and purity. However, later this evening she'd make the transformation into a Delirium girl, in a world where the female body was an object, not a person, and she was just cold plastic flesh for the eyes.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Alias watched as she poured boiling water from the kettle into two mugs. Grabbing them both, she took a seat opposite Alias, offering him a mug, which he accepted.

"I need to get some of Ethel's recipes." The vixen said aloud. "Maybe that'd get you to sleep."

Alias scoffed. "I think I'd need something a little more hard core than whatever she puts in her brews, Jenna."

"I dunno," Jenna shook her head, "it always knocks me on my tail." The vixen let out a deep yawn, raising a paw to her muzzle as her eyes slid shut out of reflex. "So," she continued after her yawn subsided, brushing her layered neck-length indigo hair from her face, "being shot at doesn't phase you, going up against trained mercenaries isn't an issue, you jump from rooftop to rooftop like I jumped on my trampoline when I was ten. Jesus, the only time I've seen you flinch is when someone touches you. So, what's happening?"

The black fox leaned on his elbows, holding the warm mug in his paw. "It's hard to explain..." Alias trailed off, dropping his eyes to the table.

She sat for a moment, looking over at Alias with hopes that he would say more. "Try." Jenna encouraged after the black fox gave no further explanation.

Alias shook his head. "How can I when it doesn't even make sense to me?"

Leaning back in her chair, Jenna sighed. "You're doing it again..." She muttered, looking away from him.

Alias's brow furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"What we agreed we'd stop. Blocking each other out." Jenna popped back, her tone wasn't angry, more exasperated than anything. "I never asked you to tell me the most intimate things in your life. I mean, there's still a lot about me you don't know. But when you wake up screaming," Alias turned away slightly in his chair, "every night, yes it concerns me, and no, I don't think I'm overstepping my bounds." Jenna paused for a moment, letting her words sink in. "Alias, I trust you with my life." She told him quietly, causing the black fox to look over at her. "But it's got to go both ways for this to work. Let me in... please."

He sat there quite for a few minutes, listening to the refrigerator's motor humming quietly, intermixed with the sound of the traffic on the streets outside. She was right, and he knew it. Alias had made it a personal goal to try and let Jenna in on his thoughts from time to time. Sometimes he just forgot. It was easy when the majority of what you remember was being on your own. It just wasn't in Alias's programming to clue people in.

"Alright, you can come in..." Alias agreed. "But you're not spending the night." He added quickly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

A small smile slowly broke over Jenna's muzzle. "Mind if I clean up? I'm sure you could use it..."

"I don't remember much..." Alias began, considering his words carefully. "But, it's just like..." He paused again. He felt like the words were right there, but he couldn't verbalize them. "...like after you do something terrible, and you feel like, a sickening panic or something." Alias tried his best to explain. "That's what it's like, except I feel like..." The black fox swallowed. "I feel like I've just done something... unforgivable."

Jenna remained quiet for a moment, taking a sip of the tea she prepared.

"You know I've got to ask," she stared, "but how much of this might have to do with Waverly Hill?"

"I don't know, it's probably noth-" Alias stopped mid-sentence. "Okay, that was a lie." The black fox admitted, running his paw through his hair awkwardly. "It..." He started again, then fell silent. "It... uh..."

"Alias." Looking up, his eyes connected with her crystal blue ones beaming with sympathy. "It's just me."

Feeling exhausted from his sleepless night, Alias raised both paws to his face, rubbing his tired, ringed eyes. "It's been happening ever since I got back from that damn asylum." He explained. "Something... happened to me there, Jenna."

Sympathy turned into concern as the blue vixen set down her mug. "Something happened?"

"I don't know!" Alias replied quickly, becoming frustrated at the situation, not at Jenna. "I didn't want to talk about it, because I feel like I'm losing my Goddamn mind!" He nearly yelled, slamming a paw down on the table. The force almost caused the tea in their mugs to jump out and splash on the flat, wooden surface. The fox then rested his forehead on the tips of his fingers, feeling the stress and anxiety bear down on him.

Jenna stood up, walking around the table, and sat down on her knees in front of him. "Hey, hey," she soothed, placing her paws on his knees, "it's okay." She reassured, her ears laid back. "Alias, there's a lot about you that we both can't explain. The things you can do, the hits you can take." Jenna shook her head. "You know, Ethel told me she believes you're special; you have some greater purpose."

The black fox scoffed, rolling his eyes at the notion.

"I don't know exactly where I stand on all that." The vixen told him, shrugging. "But I do know you're different. There's a reason you're able to do what you do. Maybe we're finally onto an answer."

"I slipped." Alias finally spoke after a few minutes of silence. "I hit my head when I was there... hard. Then I started..." Alias hated saying aloud what he knew was coming next. "I started hearing voices..."

Jenna scowled. "Voices?"

"Like in my head." He confirmed. "It was like I was dreaming, only I was awake. All I can really remember, is that one kept saying he wanted me to know what I was capable of." Jenna fell silent after this; not that Alias could blame her. That was a hell of a bomb to drop on someone. "Like I said, I think I've finally lost it."

Jenna slowly brushed her straight indigo hair from her face, thinking. "Did it ever occur to you that you might be remembering something?"

Alias's eyes, which had wandered away from her to empty space, quickly snapped back at this. Again he felt something akin to an electric shock resonate through his body.

"Why would you think that?" He asked, quickly.

"Because I don't think you're crazy." Jenna replied firmly. "And even if you are, I don't think it was the bump on the head that did it. Alias, like it or not, you're connected to Waverly somehow. Why else would the Shadow Player set up camp there when he was after you? People can lose their memories when they take a hit to the head, so why couldn't they gain them the same way?"

"Doesn't it concern you?"

Jenna blinked. "What?"

"That I somehow have a history, even if not directly, with a nut house?" Alias asked, feeling that familiar bite of slight panic and anger building in his core again. "Jenna, what if I was something bad, really bad, before The Underground?" No matter how hard he tried to repress the thought, the idea that he could have been some serial killer, rapist, or something equally as horrifying that was committed to Waverly wouldn't leave him be. "What if I'm some ticking time-bomb for psychosis?"

"Alias, whoever you were before all this, you're not that same person." Jenna replied, looking up at him. "You're Alias. Thats who you chose to be. If the world were to end tomorrow, that's who you'll be."

Her words seemed to calm his heart, which started to beat wildly as his apprehensions began to escalate. Breathing deeply, he felt the firestorm of frustration and exhaustion quell slightly. Her voice spoke reason, her tone was assuring. That same feeling of ease and serenity still seemed to radiate from her, and vent his inner turmoil.

In exhaustion, Alias leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers.

"Thanks, Jen..." Alias replied graciously, nodding.

The vixen's muzzle was overrun with a smile. "You know, sometimes I just want to hug you..."

"Are you getting melodramatic on me, Jenna Carrington?" Alias asked, letting a quieted chuckle escape with a small smile.

The vixen giggled her harmonic laugh and looked up at him. "Yeah, maybe just a little." She replied still smiling.

Alias took in a long breath before he continued. "There's just one more thing..." He said, the smile fading from her face. "The voice I kept hearing, it took me awhile to figure out who's it was. I recognized it, but I couldn't place it." The black fox was pretty sure this might be where psychosis fit in. "Until a few nights ago... Jenna, I think it might be Openshaw's voice..."

"Open-" Jenna stopped, and shook her head in utter confusion. "How could that even be possible?"

"He was on that list, Jen." Alias reminded her. "The one from Hets's file. Jenny Ursprung's email from Ian Miles also said he worked at Waverly. It adds up... but I'm not sure to what."

"How'd you make the connection?" She asked, rising off her knees to lean against the table.

"It just clicked." Alias replied, his paw flopping on the table. "I don't know, it just suddenly hit me out of the blue one night."

Jenna didn't say anything for a second. Alias could see she was thinking on something deeply. "I guess, I don't have to tell you the problem with that... now that Openshaw's dead..." Her tone wasn't condescending, she simply stated a fact, or what she thought was fact.

Here comes the hurricane...

The black fox wasn't exactly jumping to let her in on this one either.

"About that..." Alias muttered slowly. "Openshaw isn't exactly... dead."

"Do what?" Jenna's voice snapped, brow furrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Mercenary stood up slowly, walking over to the kitchen window. Placing his arm against the cool glass, Alias leaned on it; his back to Jenna.

"I didn't kill him that night." He clarified, feeling Jenna's piercing blue eyes burning holes through him. "I'm sure if he's connected, he could have faked his own death easily enough. With a fire like the one his mansion went up in, positive ID is virtually impossible. DNA from the pulp in your teeth is about the only way."

"And when were you planning on telling me this?"

"I was going to tell you, but one thing led to another... You were there, you know what happened. After that, I didn't think it'd make a difference." He told Jenna, his dark tone overtaking his voice. He didn't feel sorry, but at the same time, wasn't defending his actions. "I went there to kill him... I had every intention of going through with it, but when the time came to actually do it... I don't know!" Alias explained, his mind still filled with confusion about that night. He could clearly remember standing behind Openshaw, pistol to the back of his head. But he couldn't do it! There was just something in his mind that told him it wasn't right. "It wasn't like I couldn't; it was like I didn't want to..." The black fox concluded.

The fox's memory flashed back to the dimly lit study he found Openshaw in, simply waiting for Alias. The middle-aged otter made no struggle, no cries for help, he didn't even have a gun to defend himself with. He just sat there, and asked Alias if he'd make his death quick and painless. It wasn't sympathy or pity that stayed The Mercenary's trigger finger. It just felt wrong...

"He faked his own death..." Jenna said aloud, filling in the blanks. "They would have came after him for helping you. And now you're having dreams about him where he talks about your abilities." Jenna scoffed. "Not to mention, do you realize this would have saved us from a nuclear argument?"

"I think that helped us get a lot of stuff out of our systems." Alias replied, thinking about how livid they had been with each other over Openshaw's supposed "death". "We said a lot of things that needed to be said." Alias concluded, turning back around to face her.

Jenna had been upset that Alias was using the same tactics the enigmatic Shadow Player used, who incidentally was the same bastard pursuing Alias. At the same time, Alias had gotten pissed at Jenna for coming down on him for striking preemptively to avoid future attacks on their lives. It had gotten to the point that Jenna was ready to move out, and Alias wasn't going to stop her, but in the end they had reconciled. They both came to an understanding that they simply misinterpreted the other's motives. Jenna realized Alias was doing this for protection, not for his own gain, but to make sure no harm came to her. On the flip side, Alias understood that Jenna was afraid Alias was becoming like the enemy they fought against, and feared he was losing himself.

"How about we don't let it get to that point again?" Jenna suggested.

"I'm trying, Jenna." Alias admitted honestly. "But this isn't easy for me. I'm just not one to go around wearing my heart on my sleeve."

The blue vixen let out a slight sigh, walking over to him. "I know... but when something's bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?" Her fingers brushed his shaggy, raven hair from his eyebrows gingerly, not provoking a flinch of surprise as he could see what she was doing.

He nodded, slowly. "I know..." He whispered.

_"_Well..." Jenna said slowly, moving from him. "I guess I'm going to need the Blackwell."

Alias scowled. "What for?"

_"_I don't think we're going to find Openshaw by posting up flyers." Jenna quipped, in her sharp tone that Alias was accustom to. "The Blackwell is the only computer I know that can tap into the databases I need to start tracking him. I'm sure we can get some kind of lead on where we can find him."

"He's officially dead." The black fox reminded her. "He's probably gone Underground."

'Yeah, and we know you can't do something like that alone. Who knows, it could even be a witness protection program." She shrugged. "Point is, if he's still out there we can find him."

"Hey, Jenna?"

The blue vixen, who was walking back to her room to retrieve the laptop computer known as the 'Blackwell', stopped and looked back at her mercenary.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, but in a tone of general curiosity. "You have your own issues to deal with. Why go digging into this mess?"

Jenna dropped her eyes to the floor, a pensive look overcoming her face. Alias could see the process of thoughts spinning around in her head, trying to find an answer.

"Because you gave me a second chance at my life." Jenna finally told him, her eyes connecting with his ones of emerald. "I didn't appreciate what my life was until it was almost taken from me, and it was you who let me see that." She took in a deep breath. "And I know it kills you, walking around without any memory of who you were before you became a part of The Underground and The Invisible War. Even if you don't say it, I know it tears you apart." Jenna shrugged, shaking her head. "I guess I just want you to feel the same appreciation you let me feel. If finding Openshaw can do that, then why not, you know?"

Alias said nothing, watching the young vixen exit the kitchen. Sometimes he didn't know how to interpret her. Regardless, he was thankful to have her around. It had been a long, long time since he had felt this close to anyone. The fox's career as a professional assassin had caused him to limit his interactions with people. He followed a long line of thoughts to the darker corners of his mind. The mercenary knew what had happened to some of the people he had been close to, and it hadn't ended well for them. For that reason, Alias chose to distance himself from everyone; for their own safety and his. Only Jenna had pecked, and clawed her way back into his life when he had attempted to do the same to her; an action he couldn't quite comprehend. Regardless, it still left Alias feeling apprehensive about her going down this path with him. Openshaw wanted him to know his true potential. He wanted Alias to know what he was really capable of.

Thinking of all the dark things he had done in his past, Alias wasn't sure if he truly wanted to know.