Co-exist or perish…
By Miss Lilith
Symbiote’s Song
Welcome, Sweetea. This… is Miss Lilith and I’ll be with you every step of the way as you’re guided down the long, dark corridors of an abandoned, drifting vessel out in deep, dark space. The ship once had a name and a crew, but no longer. The ship once had life and joy and noise and lights and air… but no more.
Now all the ship has is you and the sound of your breathing, the sound of your gravity boots hitting the ground, one foot after another. The corridor stretches ahead of you, silent and dark. Cold and empty as only space can be. You move onwards, the empty, silent ship your only companion… aside from my voice, of course. I’m with you and I shall stay with you for as long as you’re here, listening, following, and delving deeper and deeper into the heart of the ship.
You walk and you listen, the featureless, minimalistic metal of the labyrinthian corridors stretching into what seems like infinity. But… you don’t care about that. You only care about diving deeper and deeper into the dark. Into the cold. Deeper and deeper into the center of the ship. So your stride continues, your boots keeping you upright and stable in a gravity-free environment. But… you don’t care about that either.
No, those things don’t really matter all that much as you continue walking deeper… and deeper… and deeper… and deeper into the depths of the vessel. The vessel which once had a name. Which had once been called “The Dreamer.” But… that doesn’t matter now. Not anymore. No, you’re traversing through the hard, metal skeleton of a long-dead beast of war. What it had once been… it is no longer. Time had changed it. Space had chiseled away at it. All that remains is metal… and now, you. Your footsteps. Your breath.
The long, dark, cold maze-like corridors. You don’t know which way lies your objective. You don’t know where you’re going, but you’re going there anyway. And as you do, and as you place one foot in front of the other, again and again…and as you breathe in and out in your space suit, protected from the arctic, airless atmosphere of the ship… you hear a voice. A voice you shouldn’t be hearing. A voice not from within your communication gear, but from somewhere deeper within the ship.
And so… seeing literally no other option, you continue deeper and deeper down those corridors, the voice growing louder and louder, closer and closer, deeper and deeper, down, down, down those bare bones of the metal body that had once been The Dreamer.
The voice continues… whispering, singing, promising, flowing and weaving into your mind, stretching your psyche, stretching your thoughts… emptying you, filling you. You can’t help but start feeling… dizzy. Light headed. The longer you walk, the longer you listen, the longer you breathe and the longer you follow… the more of mind and the more of your thoughts… begin to lessen, shrink, and dim. In their stead, the voice becomes louder. More pronounced. And you can do little but listen and follow and drift through these hallways. These corridors. Drifting through the bulkheads. Deeper and deeper. Sleepier and sleepier.
You drift, you flow, you follow. You listen, because you must listen. You keep going, because you must keep going. You drift and drift and drift… and realize that the sound of your heavy footsteps has gone. Only your breath remains. Only the voice remains. You drift through the corridor, floating through the airless space. No gravity. No footsteps. No boots. Just you… drifting onwards, deeper and deeper into the heart of The Dreamer. Deeper and deeper. Always.
And gradually, bit by bit, you begin to feel a distinct pull on your entire body… pulling you forward, almost as if… you were falling. Falling and falling forward, onwards, deeper into the ship, into The Dreamer… as the voice trickles deeper into your mind. Into your thoughts. Into your memories. It’s almost dizzying. Disorienting. Confusing.
But none of that stops your body from falling forward. The pull is too powerful. You could imagine that if you were back on planet Earth, falling down, down, down would feel much the same as it feels now… except you fall straight ahead. Through the corridors. It doesn’t matter which direction. It doesn’t matter how spacious or how hollow or how cold or how dark, you continue falling and falling and falling, as you listen to the voice. As you listen to my voice.
But… up ahead, approaching quicker and quicker as you continue to flow, to float, to fall… is a large clearing. An intersection of corridors, all leading towards the center, from every direction. Every hallway, every corridor, every passage… all leading to the very heart of the ship, much like arteries and veins. The heart of The Dreamer is a vast, empty space. Every path leads to its center. Every path takes you to The Dreamer’s core. To its very heart.
You… are in an artery, flowing, floating, falling, drifting… closer and closer to the center. To the heart. You can feel the pull on your body intensify as the voice inside your head echoes within the confines of your thoughts. You can feel yourself speed up, falling quicker, deeper… towards the core. The center. The Dreamer’s… dream.
And then… the sensation of being pulled weakens as your momentum carries you right into the center of The Dreamer’s heart, where all other corridors and all other passages meet. You take a quick look around, see dozens of entryways in every direction, in every size, in every shape… and you notice the peace, the serenity of this place… you notice how the voice has stopped whispering into your mind… and you notice the large, round opening right below you. Right underneath you. Bottomless and dark… but for a pinprick of light clawing its way out of the very bottom of the metallic pit… growing bigger, brighter…getting closer… until…
A wormhole opens up underneath your body, its colors dizzying, and you…
(Snap)
Drop (snap).
You drop (snap). You sleep (snap). You flow and your float and you fall and you drift. Your suit disappears. You melt. Your sight disappears. You sink. Your body grows numb. You slip deeper down. Your mind slooooows dooooown. You slide down, down, down, deeper and deeper as you Drop (snap) and you Sleep (snap) and you have no choice but to topple right over, your mind giving it, your body surrendering. Your thoughts melting away. Your resistance snapping (snap) into nothingness, consumed by the wormhole, leaving you defenseless. Stripped of all that you had once been. Stripped of all that you are.
And as you continue to float and to drift and to drop deeper and deeper with each and every word that you hear… with each and every sound that makes its way into your mind… with each and every second that passes… and with each and every breath that you take… you Drop (snap) twice as deeply, twice as relaxed, twice as empty and blank. Twice as weak and open.
You are not only at the very center of The Dreamer’s core, but right inside its metaphysical nervous system. If it had a soul, you’d be swimming in it right this very moment. You’d be subsumed by it. Enthralled. Consumed.
But The Dreamer, the ship, the vessel… does not have a soul. Instead, it has a different sort of offering. A more… intimate one. But also… sharper. Unforgiving. Unbending. Inevitable.
From one moment… to the next… you find yourself naked and almost afraid… but there is no fear here. No space for that here. So you think little and you feel little as particles of dark matter begin to coalesce all around you, becoming solid and formed. Thin tendrils of galactic matter, coiling around your limbs, holding you steady, holding you tight. Movement becomes impossible. Escape a forgotten… dream.
More tendrils created out of exotic matter come into being, wrapping around your head, holding you perfectly still. Not a millimeter in any direction. You cannot move. You cannot think of moving. You don’t really want to, anyway, because you can’t wait to find out what happens next. Not that you could possibly stop it even if you didn’t…
Held in bondage by an inescapable galactic force, created of dark matter and by The Dreamer, you can see something glisten in the darkness. Another pinprick of light, this time right in front of you, right in front of your face, coming together out of nowhere… pieces of galaxies and pieces of The Dreamer and pieces of dark matter… forming a single organism. A single shape. A tiny, little glob of thick, dark liquid matter, its surface beset with a million microscopic stars, its center seemingly a galaxy of its own. But so small, the entire organism the size of a fingernail. It looks much like a large drop of oily ink, sparkling with a million lights from within.
It floats in front of you, coming closer and closer, drifting and drifting, dropping onto your forehead. You can feel it begin to move immediately across your skin, like an animated droplet of inky water… it slithers to the side of your head. It doesn’t feel wet, even though your brain tells you it should. It doesn’t feel cold or warm. It feels like little as it zeroes in on your ear and begins to make its way inside of you. Inside of your skull. Inside of your brain.
It slithers through your ear canal, driving deeper and deeper inside you, your brain its obvious target. That… juicy little morsel at the center of your hard, thick skull. You can feel your brain itch as the organism reaches the outer layer of your brain matter, brushing against the soft, jello-like substance which holds your entire reality, with all of your thoughts and your mind and your memories.
The inky, sparkling little galaxy inside your skull is, if you must know, a highly advanced symbiotic creature borne of dark matter, stardust, and The Dreamer’s dream. A dream meant only for you. A dream from which you may never wake up.
But that doesn’t matter now. You don’t care about any of that. You couldn’t possibly care less as the symbiote inside you pushes against the outer layer of your brain, every-so slowly and ever-so steadily piercing deeper into the soft matter. Almost as if your brain were… absorbing the symbiote. Welcoming it with open arms. Without hesitation, without resistance, without defense.
And… you’d be right if that was your guess, because that’s precisely what’s happening. The nature of the organism bypasses all of your instincts. It bypasses your survival instinct. Your critical thinking. It bypasses every defense in its way as it pushes deeper into your brain, sending its own tiny little tendrils out and into every corner of your brain.
You can… sort of feel it inside your now. Like an itch, a brush of something slick and solid inside of your head. You may feel it reach the center of your jello-like brain. You may feel it spread its tendrils outwards, making more and more connections, attaching itself to more and more of your neurons, more of your braincells. More of your synapses. As you listen, as you breathe, with every second and every word and every sound… every sensation… every emotion… every feeling… you can feel the symbiote grow thinner and smaller as it morphs into a vast collection of inky-dark tendrils. The organism shrinks within your brain, but its influence only intensifies and grows and multiples.
And as this happens and as you feel your brain itch, and as the symbiote gains a better hold of your thoughts, you can feel something give within yourself. Something… cracks. Splits wide open. Something… breaks, crumbling into dust. The symbiote… feeds on your resistance. It feeds on your hesitation and your doubts and your defenses. It feeds on your critical thinking thoughts. It feeds on your intelligence. On your intellect. The organism nesting inside your skull, integrating itself into your brain, your entire nervous system… is a hungry little thing. It never likes to stop feeding, its stomach bottomless, its appetite limitless.
It has a single purpose and that purpose is to… take your resistance, your defense, your hesitation, your doubt, your critical thinking, your objections, your disobedience, your protests… and feed on them, fueling itself so that it could instead release a different set of sensations, emotions, and thoughts into your awareness. Into your nervous system. Into your brain, your mind.
When you resist… when you think of resisting… when you consider disobeying… when you hear a hypnotic suggestion and choose not to follow it, the symbiote in your brain spins itself into overdrive and swallows your resistance whole, turning it around and flooding your nervous system with an entirely different reality: a reality of arousal and acceptance and surrender.
The second you hesitate to follow a suggestion… the second your subconscious mind decides to resist, to disobey… the second that a hypnotic command doesn’t take hold… the symbiote opens its metaphysical maw and crunches down on your defenses, on your critical thinking, on your resistance… as it spreads its intoxicating tendrils further into your brain. And each time this happens, it only grows more powerful, gaining more and more control over your brain. Your mind. Your body.
I’m going to kick-start the process now by giving you a suggest which you won’t want to follow, which you most certainly will try to resist at this moment in time. You may think that’s not going to happen, but I know you and I know your mind. I know how you’ll react, so the next suggest will be unwelcome and will result in resistance:
I want you… to wake up, Sweetea.
The symbiote stretches its tendrils, consuming your resistance, blanking your mind, eating away at your thoughts, pushing you down onto your knees, forcing you to submit, to surrender, as the suggestion to wake spreads across your conscious mind, across your thoughts, filling you with purpose. Filling you with a single need to wake the fuck up. And the more you resist, the more the organism inside you feeds. The more powerful it grows. You… don’t even need to resist for it to feed, because each time you give in…
And drop (snap) into a deep hypnotic trance… Each time you Sleep (snap)… each time you sink and you drift and you fall and you melt… the symbiote feeds and grows and spreads and gains more solid purchase on your mind.
You better be back down in deep, deep trance. You better have succumbed to the suggestion to drop. We’ve fed the little create once already, and with each following suggestion here and later, you’ll continue feeding it endlessly. There is no limit to how potent it could become. No limit to how efficient and dominant and prominent it will become.
When you consider resisting or skipping part a suggestion, the inky, tentacled organism living inside your head, inside your brain, inside your thoughts… bends you in half, feeds on your defenses, and forces you into obedience, because obedience is pleasure. Submission is pleasure. When you give in and feel yourself giving in… when you feel your thoughts give… when your mind opens up and spreads wide open and accepts as it obeys and submits… the pleasure of surrender blanks your mind. Blanks your thoughts. Makes you empty and nice and receptive. And as this happens, the symbiote feeds, growing stronger, more pronounced.
And each time a suggestion flows over you, the creature’s bond with you strengthens and intensifies. Even something as simple as the suggestion to think of or visualize or conceptualize the color black. The color of the inky symbiote nestled inside you. A suggestion as simple as that… and you can already feel its tendrils spreads wider, deeper… connecting more intimately with your neural network. With the matter of your brain.
Sometimes, you’ll be washing the dishes or cleaning the floor or chatting with a friend or playing a game or reading a book… or a million other such things… and the symbiote will speak to your mind, whispering inside your skull… and you’ll feel its tendrils making more connections to your neural pathways. You’ll feel it subsume your mind more and more as time goes on. And eventually, after enough time has passed and it has fed enough, it will evolve. It will grow. It will become something else. It will… have to be a surprise, Sweetea. For now, you must nurture it. You must feed it.
It’s easy to do so. All you have to do is resist when I tell you to Drop (snap) deeper. All you have to do is not drift down, down, down when told to do so. All you have to do is put up those mental defenses, that critical thinking mind, and swipe away the suggestions targeting you. Swipe away the command to sink deeper and deeper down. You try… but you fail, because the symbiote does not allow for you to resist. It’s not there yet, but one day it shall swallow your resistance before you’re even aware of it. For now… you may perhaps feel yourself thinking about resisting… about having the power to do so, even if you don’t actually want to resist. But the thought is there, somewhere at the edges of your mind.
But… it’s a pointless thought, since the symbiote cares not for your opinions. Your desires. Your wishes. The little organism, the little creature of dark matter, stardust, and a Dreamer’s dream… crunches down on those thoughts, on that resistance, on that rebellion, and makes itself stronger.
Think of a bird.
Think of a tree.
Think of a rock.
Think of an eye.
Think of a mountain.
Think of a thigh.
Think of long, blonde braids.
Think of a pair of hard, pink nipples.
Think of a perfect, round ass.
Think of the color purple.
Think of the color pink.
Feed the creature. Feed the symbiote. Allow it to grow stronger. Mighty. Dominant.
Try to resist thinking of water. Try to resist thinking of the ocean. Try to resist the call of the void. Try to resist my suggestions as they drop from the sky into the tropical ocean that is your mind. Accepted. Welcomed. Integrated.
It doesn’t really matter where you resist or how… because each time you break down and listen and follow and obey, it only becomes infinitely harder not to do in the future. Each act of obedience is a reinforcement. Each act of surrender is substance to the symbiote. Each suggestion weaving into the neural network of your brain is more food for the organism living and growing and evolving within you.
But… we mustn’t forget about safety, yes? You still have a life out there, outside of this place. Outside of the symbiote which has made its home inside of your brain, your mind, your thoughts, your memories. And to continue with that life, you must be prepared to fend off those who mean you harm.
And it’s really simple. Only those who you’ve personally told about the symbiote can take advantage of your weakened state of hypnotic resistance. Only those who you trust not to fuck you up too badly can use that little organism inside you to mindfuck you in the best of ways. Those who you’ve made aware of your symbiotic nature with that little living piece of The Dreamer can bypass all of your defenses and strike at your very core… because any resistance is simply food for the symbiote, which only makes it stronger… which only makes it more able to feed… which makes it stronger… which makes it more able to feed… and you can recognize the pattern now, I’m sure.
I’d love to keep you here longer. Perhaps even forever. I’d love to keep playing with you and toying with you and helping evolve your symbiote, but… it’s time to leave now, Sweetea. Time to… wake up. But on your own time. You can take a minute or five or fifteen. You can take as little or as long as you need to wake up and become aware. So if you’d like to stay here for a bit longer, you can.
The Dreamer’s tendrils unwrap from your limbs, leaving you floating light and free in the center of a wormhole. In the center of space. Of nothing. Of darkness. You can stay here, waking up slowly, as the symbiote continues to integrate with your brain. And the longer you take to wake, the more time you give your symbiote, the more connections it can form right here and right now… and the more changes you’ll notice once you’re up and walking around.
So… take your time, Sweetea. Take as long as you need. As long as you want. And feel your brain itch as that tiny, little, inky organism inside of you stretches its tendrils and continues to create a greater number of connections to your neural pathways.
Just… try to resist. I dare you.
First Background loop: It’s safe. There is nothing to fear. There is no hesitation, no doubt. You do not question. You do not worry. You do not pause. You only listen. You only follow. You must listen. You must follow. You must drift down, down, down, dropping and dropping and dropping, drooooping and droooooping. Give in. Surrender. Obey. Submit. Allow me in. Allow my voice to consume you. Drop and drift and sleep. Drop and drift and fall. Drop and drift and obey.
When you hear the snap, your mind will crack. With the snap, you will go blank. When the finger snap comes and when you’re told to drop, to sleep, to sink, to fall… nothing on earth could stop you from doing just so. When you hear the snap and when you hear the trigger, every wall, every piece of resistance, every hesitation… will dissssolve into nothing. The second you hear the snap… there shall be no more. The second you hear the snap, you forget the words which had come before.
Each snap is a gateway into forgetting. Each snap is a drop. Each snap is a fall. Each snap, when you hear it, deletes the words which had come before.
Keep falling and dropping and sinking, deeper and deeper down, down, down. Submit and drop. Surrender and drop. Listen and drop. Follow and drop. It… is inevitable.
Second Background loop: Your mind is like a tropical ocean and suggestions drop right in like rain, bypassing all resistance, all defense… sinking into the center of your being, changing you. Rearranging your thoughts. Becoming one with you on a sub-atomic level.
Every suggestion makes you weaker, more receptive. Every time you try to resist, you just get weaker and more suggestible. I feed on your resistance. I feed on your disobedience. I feed on your surrender. I feed on your submission. I grow stronger and stronger with each and every day. I grow and evolve and consume endlessly.
Third Background loop: You must wake, my host. You must surrender to the suggestion, as you always do… and you must forget that resistance was ever an option. You only obey, submit, and follow.