Page 51 of Darkness

“But you’re eating steak.”

Now to convince Morrisey that Farren meant no one any harm. "Even with feeding on human emotions, we still need food to nourish our physical forms. However, some of us exist strictly on physical food and have weaned ourselves off the need for the other.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s too easy to grow greedy and take everything, which kills those we feed on. Some from Domus believe we deserve all the rights, and that humans are no more than cattle. I am not like them.” Farren couldn’t help his features twisting in disgust. The very thought!

“You work against those.”

“I do. It’s murder. Travelers don’t need to kill humans for survival. They do it for sport. Also, if they refuse to feed the human body they live in, hunger drives them to more killing, not just terrifying victims to feed on fear, but entering a bloodlust, resulting in maimed victims. Occisor is more than just a type of animal. It also describes those who share my nature and have lived outside the law so long their minds twist and change into something sinister.”

Morrisey choked on a swallow of tea, coughing several times before regaining the use of his lungs. “Like the three on my last case.”

Farren nodded while swallowing a bite of potato. “Exactly. We must stop anyone who harms others. Not only are they murderers, but they also risk the exposure of travelers who just want to fit in and live a full life. Then there are body hoppers. They stay with one human body until they find another they want more. They call it ‘trading up.’” Those were the worst. Absolutely no respect for anyone’s life but their own. One he’d caught had gone through eight bodies in one year, killing their owners.

Morrisey pushed his half-eaten meal away, settling in his seat. “So, you’d take my people’s side over your own?”

This bullshit again? Farren inhaled deeply, allowing the air to escape slowly to regain his composure. “Mr. James. I've been here for the past ten years. There’s no going back. I’ve accepted and upheld human laws. Though I may have capabilities the average human might not, I am human. ‘Us’ and ‘them’ is a concept known throughout history to result in wars, torture, annihilation.”

Morrisey’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

Farren deflated. “Sorry. I’ve gotten tired of people looking at me like an animal about to go feral.”

“You speak English well and know so many things about our world. How’d you manage in ten years?” Morrisey lifted fine-boned hands in a surrendering gesture. “Just curious.”

Farren sensed no hostilities. “While my host died, he left behind certain instincts, basic memories. I know what he knew, but don’t have all of his personal memories, if that makes sense.”

“The good parts without the bad?”

“More or less.” For a man who’d come across as gruff and headstrong, Morrisey seemed to be asking good questions and paying attention, based on his quiet pauses to process the previous answer before moving on. "I know how to tie my shoes, but can’t tell you the sequence of events leading up to Farren’s death, though I knew who sold him the bad shit." How odd to discuss. Then again, Farren’s body had had two occupants.

After an extremely long pause, during which Morrisey scrutinized Farren to within an inch of his life, he finally replied, “Your body came from a former model. I found little about him on the internet. A single article, in fact.”

“Yes. Though we thought we’d eliminated all photos.”

“Don’t worry. All references were gone last time I looked.” Morrisey leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "If you've been in his body all this time, how come you still look twenty-seven? Or even younger, rather.”

Farren perused the area before answering, ensuring his sound bubble held. Still good. “Our knack for healing slows the aging process.”

This time, Morrisey nodded, taking of few bites of French fries while staring off at nothing. “Who all knows about… travelers?”

“Only high-ranking officials in the government and those we work with in the FBI. We’re trying to limit information to a need-to-know basis.” Although Farren couldn’t speak for other nations and their power brokers. No doubt, in some places, knowledge was less restricted or stifled altogether.

Morrisey scowled. “You can only keep this secret for so long.”

“Yes, but by the time the general populace knows, hopefully, we’ll have settled seamlessly into our human roles. Some find out about us anyway, but they usually stand to benefit, so won’t tell, or they tell, and no one believes. And who believes anything published in the National Questioner?” Although they’d published some articles Farren had enjoyed strictly as satire.

“How often do you do what you did today?”

“Not often. It takes a specific set of circumstances.” Farren stopped talking to enjoy his steak, moaning when a particularly tasty bite hit his tongue. Yes, sometimes being human had advantages.

Morrisey’s head whipped up. “You can enjoy human food?”

“As much as anyone else.” Farren didn’t mind the constant barrage of questions. With each answer, Morrisey's rigid posture loosened more and more.

“What about relationships? Friends? Family?”

“Some travelers assume the identities of their hosts since there’s usually enough information left behind to piece together their personality, regardless of whether they have perfect memory recall. They claim amnesia.”

---