Beneath the ground, something shifts disturbed an organism curls itself unto you. Eking its way in, your skin begins to tear, a little rupture at first, and then glossy red droplets of blood leak out. Drip, drip, drip. Thirsty it crawls in where it is warm and dark, cradled there it feasts seeking nourishment and growth (murmuring feed me).
Drip, drip, drip deep down low – a punishing rate your heartbeat dissolves itself within. ANGST! How much more can you take? Let go, let the horror grip you. Feel it spreading, as deviant fantasies find their way into your mind, your body mutates. You grind your teeth and liquify your coat, just ready to slip away, leaving a luring black shiny trail behind you. Who wants to follow?

Being a host you are now part of a dynamic relationship, chemical changes occur and you are reminded of a continuous cycle of the HUNTER becoming the HUNTED. , of consuming and being consumed.

The proliferating end-time mood is countered by feelings of potential otherness. A destructive seductive sentiment of happily feeling the dread, allowed to acknowledge it, you can push the possibility to transform, to grapple with the seemingly contrasting moments of angst and liberation.

Time expressed in remnants offers moments of togetherness. Tendrils find an expanse within to touch. The orchid grows. Who said parasitism could not be beautiful?

— Colette Patterson and Valeria Slizevic