first time writing here, it's called "loathsome creatures

first of all i wanna thank you guys here for getting me back into writing, also CW for suicide

Where do I begin...I'll start by saying that even what i'm about to do will not atone for what my body has done, for what this thing in my back has done... I'm doing what i need to do to prevent more harm, i'm also recounting what happened to me...i want to make an account of this. About a month ago, i was on a walk in the woods, I hadn't noticed anything wrong, no feeling of its tiny legs pattering across my skin, it was like it had just appeared there as i left the forest, I was fine for a few days, then my back was sore and I felt like I had a fever, I thought i was just coming down with something or that I ate something bad, I went to work the next few days...But I got worse, there was a day I couldn't move

I felt a mental fog roll over me starting at my eyes, and a tide of numbness flooding my body with a sort of static fuzz that I have no words to describe and I stood up but didn't have any awareness of doing so, it felt like reflex, like a twitch. After a few days i felt better but those tides of numbness would come and go, i considered seeing a doctor but i was scared of what they might say.

I went on figuring it was just some weird nerve thing from sleeping weird or lifting boxes with my back. I was so very wrong, I don't know how it did what it did, it looks like a tick, just a regular old deer tick but it's massive, it's gotten to the size of a golf ball and it's under my skin right near my spine, it can make me move if it wants, it can make me sleep if it wants, and it can do both at the same time.

I don't know when it started wanting more...I only figured it out once it was too late. It started by looking at my workbench and noticing my tools were left out and they were more rusty than they should be, i scrubbed them off and cleaned them, the rust was...wrong, it came off too easy and was a strange color, it was darker, more flaky, it was all over my phillips head screw driver, my hammers, and even my chisels.

Then came the stranger symptoms, I would wake up in the morning brush my teeth and spit out little flecks of brown, it tasted like old coins, and something more foul, like it had been in my mouth all night. I figured it out when i started to bloat, i got bigger much bigger and it hurt, it felt like i was about to pop, like my skin was made of paper, i stepped in the mirror and saw a grim similarity to a tick.

It made me feed on people. I woke up once while it was making my body do it, he was in an alley, my body was trying to pry a bit of his skull open with a wood chisel, it gave way with sound like velcro undoing, i saw my body bending down to lap up the fluids like a feral dog, i tried to stop but my body wasn't me, i was a passenger, my body then kept opening little holes and cuts drinking from them until it dried up
continuing to do so until the body went cold and dry and then it sauntered my body home, dropped my tools on the table and went to my room, i don't know how many it killed and mangled.

I know my body is no longer mine, it's the tick's. i saw it moving under my skin the next morning, it was curling and uncurling its legs, enjoying the nutrients from my rapidly shrinking frame, it was drinking faster and faster each time, it would keep making my body kill for it, i have to end it, it's why im writing this note, to the police who come to investigate now after you read this, look for my dna and finger prints, i killed and i don't know who or how many, i just want to say it wasn't my doing, i want you to cut it out of my back and study it, i want you to make this matter, goodbye, im sorry for what i did. [this note was found clutched in the suspects hands...later autopsy revealed a .22 long rifle bullet in his skull and an alarming amount of foreign blood in his stomach...toxicology screens show that the suspect had no narcotics in his system at the time of his suicide]