“What did you do?” Alphonse grabbed hold of his cleaver. His knuckles turned white, bones started creaking.

“What did I do?” The old man laughed. “You think I would stoop down to the level of using parasitic demons?”

“Then remove them.”

“Why should I?”

Alphonse’s eyes turned scarlet red. The worms wriggled faster, more of them appeared. Dancing within his eyeballs.

The old man finished with what he was doing. He poured the contents of the rock bowl into an empty glass bottle. Sealing it shut with a wooden corkscrew.

“I'm just playing with you.” The old man giggled and threw the glass bottle towards Alphonse. "Such a temper"

Catching it, Alphonse looked at the bottle.

“Pour it over your eyes. It might sting a little.” The old man flashed his gummy smile.

Alphonse could feel the worms wriggling become more intense. He could feel his mind slipping. It was a familiar but… unnatural feeling. It felt different compared to when he lost his mind through hunger. He wanted to kill, to fill his stomach, and survive. However, this time, he felt like someone was commanding him to kill.

Unplugging the corkscrew, he emptied the contents onto his face. The pain was indescribable. The worms thrashed within his eyes, attempting to eat their way out of the soft, squishy, spherical flesh.

“Watch, you don’t scrape out your own eyeballs.”

At the reminder, Alphonse desperately held back the temptation of digging out his eyes from their sockets. Soon, the pain diminished. The wriggling stopped.

“Are-are they still in my head?” Alphonse took bated breaths as he leant up against the table.

“No, not really.” The old man continued adding ingredients to an extra bowl. “The potion eats away at the parasites like a virus, breaking them down and flowing into your bloodstream.”

“How did they get there in the first place?” Alphonse questioned.

“I’ve still to find that out myself. Anyway, where did you come from?”

“Why does it matter where I came from?”

“Hey, I saved your life. You owe me that much, right?”

“What about the monsters at the entrance of the cave? Are you not concerned?” Alphonse changed the subject. Thankfully, the old man seemed to have a quickly changing mind.

“Concerned? I suppose. But just like you, I have ways of dealing with them, even with these scrawny arms.” The old said. He waved his malnourished arms around in the air.

“Why are you here?” Alphonse asked. Nothing was adding up. What the hell was he doing here? In the middle of a monster filled jungle.

“The parasites.” The old man paused for a second before continuing. “Not sure when it was. Years… yeah, it’s already been years since then, hasn’t it?” Faint chuckling left his throat.

“Since what?”

“Since the parasites devoured this planet. They eat away at your brain, turning people into mindless killers. The monsters became stronger, faster. They arrived in the thousands. It all happened too quickly. We were unprepared.” The old man said.

“If you knew the cure, couldn’t you stop it?”

“You think I wouldn’t? Why do you think I’m held up here in this cave?” The old man’s voice became louder, his skinny body trembled. “I only found out the cure recently, then you arrived.”

Alphonse nodded. “Then give me a bunch of those potions.” He walked up to the old man. He kept his guard up, but he knew that the old man wouldn’t have saved him if he meant him any harm. It was a part of him now. To be cautious.

“You don’t need them.”

“Like fucking hell I don’t.” The old man spun round, his long white eyebrows turned into a frown. His lips scrunched up. “I might look like a haggard old man to you, but I will retake my home with my frail, broken hands.” The old man shoved his hands to Alphonse’s face. Some of them were chopped off, others twisted and bent.

“And by god, whoever did this will pay with their lives.” He continued.

“If you find out who did it.” Alphonse shook his head. If he hadn’t found out who did it after all that time, what hope was there?

“Screw you, you’re pissing me off.” The old man grumbled.

“Anyway, what do we do now?” Alphonse looked around. He had hoped there was going to be something to eat or maybe some magical equipment hidden away somewhere.

“You say that as if we are a team.”

“Of course we are a team. I saved you, you saved me. Now give me some of those potions.” Alphonse crept forwards once more. He picked up one of the glass bottles that held an unfamiliar liquid.

“You don’t even know what’s in them,” the old man coughed. “I wouldn’t touch that one if I were you.”

“Why?” Alphonse questioned. He held the bottle closer to his face. An object was faintly visible within, a little eel-like creature with sharp teeth smashed up against the bottle as Alphonse’s head lurched back.

“What the hell, you drink that?”

The old man snatched it back. He tapped on the glass as the toothy-eel attempted to bite off his finger. “Of course you don’t bloody drink it. What’s wrong with you?” The old man snarled. His vision turned towards the stairs, where Alphonse had entered.

Alphonse curiously turned his head. The sounds of deep thumping echoed in his ears. It was a sound he was familiar with. Heavy footsteps. Alphonse gripped hold of his cleaver as he transformed.