CHAPTER 1


A man?

Hardly.

A place?

A state of mind?

McFadden is all around us. It seeps, and slithers and coils itself around all that is living and renders it lifeless.

I had the unfortunate luck of seeing McFadden in its refined form, almost human, working as a teacher at a mediocre school in Montreal a few years back. It immediately aroused suspicions in the students, myself included, but it wasn't anything you could put a finger on. Not at the time anyway.

There was a noticeable lethargy to the way it moved and spoke. We all asumed it was because it didn't give a damn. We know better now of course, but at the time, he seemed to be just another temp trying to make a few extra bucks, and who didn't give a rat's ass how he did it, or whether his students paid the price for his lack of interest.

That was our first mistake.

It was, of course, the first of his properties to manifest itself to humans. He was lethargic, yes. And slowly but surely, we humored him about it. I don't remember who the first one was to notice that our work was dropping in quality, unfocussed. Some of the students passed out on their computers during the "lectures." Others simply stopped coming to class. Those that did come would innevitably leave with drool in the corners of their mouths. Even the guy who the year previous had delivered his final project in a frenzy of masturbation, merely sat at the back of the class, holding his flacid penis and staring at it like he was trying hard to remember something, but had no idea what. I was smoking a lot more, troubled, but too uninterested to do anything about it.

Seared into my memory, shot into it like a diamond bullet, is the moment I spotted McFadden standing in front of an air vent, its crotch ground tightly against it. It was gyrating its hips rhythmically around and around, making a sound half-way between a mumble and a laugh. I dropped my cigarette and crushed it out, and it turned around and sent my mind reeling. From its tiny penis, a huge glob of green matter emerged and stuck. The smell, my god the smell, was too appaling to imagine, but suddenly I didn't mind. It wiped the slime from its "penis," and licked its fingers clean. All the while smiling that horrible little smile, his mouth not moving, except his lips... His lips quivering like an audio waveform. and that laugh sound still softly resonating.

I looked back to the vent. The remaining slime seemed to crawl in and disappear.

I've never seen documented what I felt at that moment. Imagine you're about to get into a fight. Your heart is racing. Adrenaline swells your body. Anxiety, stress. You're anticipating what's to come with nervous energy and dread. Now imagine that's your body, but your mind is calm as a hindu cow. You see what's going on around you. You undrestand the situation, but all your mind can do is coldly process information.

That was me. And all McFadden did was smile that waveform smile, and laugh that muttering laugh. like the bastard knew I wasn't going to do a goddamn thing about it.

"See you in class then."

It zipped up and severed its penis. It looked down at the writhing member on the ground and shrugged before picking it up and putting it its pocket.

"No worries kid, this is old school to me."

As it walked away I just lit another cigarette. But my body was screaming. For blood. For interevention. And, though I didn't know it at the time, it was screaming for Rice.

NEXT: Rice, and the taming of McFadden!