A/N: This story takes place in an Alternate Universe where the Animorphs do not exist-or at least don't have morphing powers/an impact on this story.
Chapter 1 - Ben
My name is Priton Six-Two-Four.
The first sensation that I experienced, as I stretched myself through the ear canal and out, to touch the brain of my first host, was panic. Fresh, cold panic. It was like an electric jolt through me as I persevered further, accessing more of the human's mind, greedily sinking into crevices, trying to take control as quickly as possible to make it stop.
Breaths came out in short gasps. The heart pounding in my ears was the first thing I heard. The first movement, before I even opened my new eyes, was to unclench the still mostly immobile fists. They had been held so tight that I could feel marks in the skin where fingernails had dug in. I forced the body to relax, forced my breathing to even out. And then I opened my eyes.
The thing about the Sharing is that, even though its entire point is to draw in voluntary controllers, not every person who comes into that little room where they become a "full member" leaves with an extra passenger voluntarily. Sometimes the realization of their mistake comes too late. Once you agree to become a full member, there's no real going back.
The voice that was screaming at me in my head as I was released wasn't giving me a headache because he wanted me there. He was a twenty-two year old kid, a college senior fast approaching the unknown realm of life after graduation. His family-all two of them-didn't live nearby, with his younger sister off at school up north, and the aunt who'd taken them in after his parents' deaths living just far enough away that he couldn't see her regularly. Soft-spoken, shy,he was liked well enough, but he wasn't the sort to attract a group of friends easily. He was lonely. The Sharing was a way for him to find friends. They promised to help him find a job when he graduated.
If nothing else, at least it couldn't be said that those promises hadn't been kept. He was finishing up his student teaching gig, and it was always useful to have our people in schools-for recruitment. For providing cover. And, of course, he would never be lonely again.
That first, intoxicating moment of sensation-sight, sound. More to touch than I'd ever had at my disposal. The taste of the cold air of that room on my tongue. The smell of sweat and panic in my nostrils. That first moment's supposed to be like magic-wondrous and impossible to describe with the right words. Like you've been buried underground your entire life and suddenly the ground opens up above you and the light shines in at last.
No! No!I wanted him to shut up. Go away, little human. I wanted peace in my own head-isn't that the point of voluntary controllers? They don't cause you trouble. They're supposed to behave and let you do whatever it is you need to do. At least that's what I assumed. That's what people said, more or less. But this host wasn't voluntary, and I couldn't help feeling a little like I'd been cheated there. Like they'd given me a defective host. Most hosts are involuntary-I knew that. I wasn't stupid-but expectation's a funny thing. You know you're being assigned somewhere, and then it isn't what you expected, what you wanted. But a body's a body, I guess. Only an idiot complains out loud if it's not exactly what he thinks it's going to be.
The body had a name. His name was Ben.