hookworms A. duodenale

A visible lump moved along the surface of my foot and I wriggled it. It had been less than an hour since I stepped on the parasite at the beach. All the invasive creature needed was direct contact with my flesh, and it absorbed itself in. The longer it dwelled inside me, it tightened its coil around my metatarsals.
In search of a cure I staggered past vendors, street dancers and bystanders. Then a few pedestrians noticed my gait and their eyes moved to my bulging foot, and they fled.
“Stay back!” a woman said. The constant pulse of my foot didn’t help my growing fears,.
“I can help” A young man dashed out and he lifted me into his arms. He carried me to an abandoned warehouse.
“This place looks dangerous,” I said.
“Trust me, they can remove it”
I gulped, as we entered. There sat two men in white robes with long graying hair. When they looked up at me. Their eyes grew sorrowful. They gestured to him, and he laid me in front of them. One man pressed the back of his hand on my head to check my temperature while the other squeezed my foot and I yowled. Instantly just as my skin absorbed it, my body spit the giant worm out. It flew across the room and slithered away.
The guy helped me up and the two men tore across the room to follow the parasite.
“What are they doing?” I asked him.
“Don’t look, let’s just get out of here!”
There was a squeal as the two men fought over the parasite. They pulled on each end until it split. Blood sprayed the walls and without hesitation the men devoured each half. Instantly, their hair darkened and skin cleared, as if a clock had turned back time to their days of youth. They pivoted around with blood stained lips and twisted grins. Before they could chase us, we sprinted into the busy street as far away from that place as we could flee.


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