I'm a patriot. Plain and simple. I believe in Hanover. It's why I've dedicated my career to saving it. My name is Reed Martin and I am a great many things. I am a God fearing man. I am a seeker of truth. I am a believer in family values. I am a beer drinker, a meat eater, a handyman, a gun owner (I wear a pistol on me at all times) and most importantly I am a real Goddamn red blooded American! It's why the voters trusted me to be Hanovers mayor. It’s why one day, they’re gonna trust me as Kentuckys Governor. And I ain't gonna steer them wrong.

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Course… That bid for Governor would be a whole hell of a lot easier if I were already holding some kind of office. So it’s important I actually stay mayor.

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Normally that hasn’t been much of an issue. Up until now, I’ve managed to run the last two elections mostly uncontested. The opponents I would’ve had either dropped out, or had an… Unfortunate turn of fortune, once certain secrets of theirs got out…

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Brett Hardy however seemed like he was cut from a different kind of cloth. He’d been an office jockey up until the last election when he’d nabbed a seat on the city council. And now he was gunning for my seat.

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Truth be told I didn’t quite like Hardy, and not just because he was after my job. Oh, I know he was a hit with the ladies, being a conventionally handsome kind of man. But it all felt as though it was only skin deep. I thought that his smile always looked a little bit forced and never quite reached his eyes. If anything I’d have said that man had the deadest eyes I’ve ever seen… He never dressed up too much, always wearing a button down shirt and a tie. If the occasion called for it, he’d wear a suit jacket, but that was it. Then of course there was that goddamned bowler hat. I suppose it was part of his image… As far as I could tell, the man had worn such a thing before he’d started dipping his toes in politics. I never quite got the appeal of it. It was a goddamn bowler hat, nothing special. But you never saw the man without it. It was weird, to say the least.

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Now, normally I wouldn’t have felt that threatened by a man like Hardy… But he made it damn clear that he was going to be a threat to me from the moment he put his name in for mayor. I don’t expect most people to understand this, but any true God fearing American will tell you that society has become a little… Corrupted, as of late. Those classic Christian family values have fallen by the wayside as people descend further and further into chaos, forgetting that Jesus is always watching and judging. I’ve always been a vocal supporter of keeping the old family values around. Hardy on the other hand wasn’t…

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If anything he seemed to tap into the exact opposite kinds of sentiments. When he spoke, I heard him talk about pride parades and queer youth. Putting funding into this, that and the other thing… And those suckers just at it right up. Left to his own devices, Hardy could’ve caused me a whole hell of a lot of trouble and well, I just wasn’t going to take that lying down now, was I?

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There’s a fella in town I’ve worked with before. A gentleman by the name of Jack Pollock. Now, years in the past Pollock was a detective, although in time he eventually split off from the local police and went into business on his own as a PI. Really, who could blame him? He got good money for what he did and in my experience, he was awfully good at his job.

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He’d helped me deal with political rivals like Hardy before… In fact he was half the reason I’d become mayor in the first place. Pollock was good at digging up dirt that people didn’t want uncovered. He’d helped me prove just how corrupt my predecessor was, digging up the details of his illicit affairs. Oh, the voters just loved hearing about that…

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Then when some jackasses had suggested running against me last election, Pollock gave me some information to help me convince them to withdraw… Secrets that they’d rather not have gotten out. I figured that Hardy would go down just as easily when I hired Pollock… Although for some reason, I had no such luck.

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When I’d hired Pollock to look into Hardy, I’d expected to hear back from him within a couple of weeks. Well, a couple of weeks came and went. No phone calls. No emails. Nothing. And all the while, Hardy kept doing better and better in the polls… It was starting to get a little worrying…

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So I’d headed on down to Pollock's office just to remind him of exactly what I was paying him for. He had a cozy little setup downtown and I’d stopped by discreetly during the late evening. As always, his office smelled of cigarette smoke and old paper.

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When I came in, Pollock himself was at his desk, tapping away at his computer. He didn’t even look at me when I came in, nor did he even acknowledge me when I spoke:

“Jack, long time no see. How’ve you been doing, buddy?”

He’d just stayed right at his computer, taking the occasional puff of his cigarette and emptying it into his overflowing ashtray. It was only when I leaned on his desk that he finally looked at me. Pollock was a stony eyed, stern looking sonofabitch… Although there was something off in the way he stared at me that day.

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“Martin.” He’d said plainly.

“Thought I’d come by and check in on you. Haven’t heard anything lately. How’s it going with Hardy?”

Without so much as another word, Pollock just opened a drawer on his desk and took out his checkbook. He quickly jotted something down, tore off the check, and handed it to me.

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“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your deposit back.” He replied plainly, “I’m dropping the Hardy job.”

“Dropping… What the hell do you mean you’re dropping it?” I asked.

“I’m not working that case anymore. Find someone else.”

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I took the check, then stared back at him.

“Find someone… The hell are you playing at, boy?”

“I’m not working that case anymore.” He said.

“Why the hell not?”

He paused, before looking back up at me. He seemed to think for a moment, before just slowly shaking his head.

“It’s not worth it.” He said.

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What the hell was with him? Did Hardy pay him off or something?

“If it’s about money, I can double your pay.” I said, “If Hardys paying you something, I’ll pay you more!”

“This ain’t about the money, Martin.” Pollock said, “It ain’t even about the politics… Just leave… You and I are through.”

“Through?” I asked.

“You gonna just keep repeating the last word I said? Yeah. Through.” Pollock replied, “And if you’ve got any goddamn sense you’ll walk out of here before things get ugly.”

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“Are you threatening me?” I asked.

“I’m not.” He said, before sighing and shaking his head. He took another drag on his cigarette, “Just… Get out of here, Martin… Fuck the election. Fuck everything. Just get out.”

I stared at him for a few moments, before scoffing in disgust.

“Suit yourself.” I said, before leaving that washed up old cop to smoke in his office.

I wasn’t quite sure what the hell had gotten into him but if he didn’t want my goddamn money, I’d take my business elsewhere.

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Turns out that was easier said than done…

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The next PI I reached out to refused the job since she wasn’t interested in this ‘political blackmail shit’. Then the one after that refused to work with me because Pollock had said no. I kept my eyes open for someone else, but in the meanwhile, it became clear to me that I was gonna have to get my own hands dirty.

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Everyone has something they want to hide… Hardy might’ve maintained a squeaky clean image. But I had little doubt in my mind that there was something he didn’t want getting out. Something I could use. I just needed to find it.

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So I rented a discreet car just for the purpose of keeping an eye on Hardy and did just that. I got to work. Hardy was not a man who lived a particularly interesting life. He was single, lived alone, didn’t smoke, rarely drank and wasn’t exactly that social. On paper it was hard to see what kind of scandal I could even find on the man. You can’t cheat if you don’t have a spouse and you can’t make a drunken ass of yourself if you’re sober.

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The first night I spent tailing him, he’d gone to dinner with some of his backers, then went home. From what I could see through the windows, he seemed to just be sitting on his couch, watching TV. Some old 90s sitcoms, nothing juicy. This was hardly the big scoop I was looking for… But I figured I might as well be patient.

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On my second night watching Hardy, he proved to me that he was just as boring as I’d feared. He’d gotten dinner at a local chain restaurant, did some grocery shopping, and went home, where he disappeared into his office.

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I did consider trying to get hold of his internet search history, or trying to get to his emails… Although I had no idea where to even start with that and to be honest, that kind of thing could’ve pretty easily backfired. It probably would’ve been a waste of time anyways. As far as I could tell Hardy was working on something, not using his computer for ‘leisure time’... All the same, I got the feeling that even the porn this guy looked at would’ve been boring, if he even bothered to look at any of that stuff. Still. I persisted.

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On the third night that I followed him, I still got next to nothing. The only blip on the radar worth mentioning is that I saw him stop at a fast food restaurant for dinner, where he ordered a fish burger.

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Yeah. Scandalous… The voters would just love that. He’d gone home again fairly early and I got the impression he’d be headed right back to his office.

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Lord, I probably could’ve used an actual PI for this business… This was boring as sin. For a moment, I honestly did wonder if Pollock had dropped this case because there was nothing to find… Although if that were the case, he really didn’t need to be that goddamn hostile towards me about dropping it. That part didn’t add up.

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Hardy had parked his car in his driveway, gotten out, and headed to his front door… Then for the first time in three days the man did something actually interesting.

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Right before he went inside he stopped. He turned and then he looked right at me.

My heart seized up in my chest a little.

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Hardy just stared at me, standing stock still. There was no mistaking where he was looking. There was no pretending that his eyes weren’t locked right on me. They absolutely were. He stared at me… And then, he just turned and headed inside.

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He didn’t close his front door behind him. He left it wide open and it took me a few moments to realize that he was inviting me in… I thought about it for a few moments… Obviously, the sonofabitch had caught me. What was the point in pretending he hadn’t?

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If he was leaving the door open like that, obviously he wanted to talk. Realistically I had nothing to fear from him. Hell I was even wearing my pistol as per usual. Why was I so shaken by this?

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Eventually, I just killed the engine to my car, got out, and headed for the door. If the jig was up, I might as well confront the sonofabitch directly, right?

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When I stepped through the door to Brett Hardy's home, I was greeted by the sight of him in his kitchen, a short distance away. He was pouring two glasses of whisky on the rocks and the moment he saw I’d come in, he picked one up and offered it to me.

“Glad you finally decided to stop skulking around out there.” He said plainly, “It’s high time that you and I talked like men.”

“I wasn’t of the impression you were open to talking.” I replied.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He’d asked, before gesturing to the couch in his living room. I’d taken the seat and watched as he’d sank into an armchair across from me.

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“You know, despite being rivals, I really do admire you, Martin. I think that you and I could’ve accomplished a lot together. We still could, if you’d like to give it a chance.” He said.

“You’re running against me. I don’t really see how we’d cooperate.” I’d replied.

“You don’t yet… But you will…” Hardy said, “How’s Jack Pollock doing? I presume he let you know that he’s not working for you anymore.”

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“He did… And if you don’t mind me asking, just what the hell did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Hardy assured me, “Pollocks a good detective. He saw what there was to see and he made that choice of his own volition. I imagine that he’ll be leaving town soon if he hasn’t already. It’s a shame… I liked him.”

“Leaving town?” I asked, “Why?”

“Not everyone handles truth particularly well.” Hardy said, “We’ll see how you handle it soon enough… I presume that’s why you’ve been following me. To find some sort of shocking truth about me. Something to sway the voters back to your side, or better yet get me to drop out of the race entirely.”

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“That would be ideal, yes.” I admitted. No point in lying about it. “So tell me… Just what’s it gonna take to make you… Reconsider your candidacy?”

“Nothing that you’ve got.” Hardy replied, “You see, you and I are two very similar people… We’re both looking for a bit of power. And in time, we’ll use that power to go even further. Maybe if we make it far enough we could even have a shot at the presidency one day. Who really knows.”

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“So that’s your end goal, huh? You wanna be President?”

“I want to go as far as I can. Isn’t that what most people want?” He asked, “Although… I will admit, I might just have an easier time with it than most people would.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“And just why is that?” I asked.

“Because I’m not Brett Hardy.”

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Hardy smiled, before reaching up and removing his bowler hat. And as I saw what was underneath, I felt my stomach turn in revulsion. With the hat gone, I could now see what it had been hiding… A jagged, bloodless hole in the top of his head. It looked like part of his skull had been entirely removed… And what was inside… Dear lord…

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I could see something pale and chitinous inside. I could see insectoid claws reaching out of the hole in his skull as something unfurled itself slightly from the depths of his head. Hardy just smiled as the bug revealed itself… And though his eyes seemed dead, the black, compound eyes of the pale grub that seemed to peer out of the hole in his skull were very much alive.

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“So nice to finally get a chance to speak face to face…” Hardy said, his voice as calm as ever.

I pressed myself into the sofa, my eyes widening in disgust as Hardy took a sip of his drink. His body still moved like normal… Although the more I looked into his eyes, the deader and glassier they looked.

“Jesus Christ… What the hell are you?” I demanded.

“Just a concerned citizen.” Was the reply, “One with very big plans… Plans that I really can’t have you standing in the way of.”

Something told me I didn’t want to know just what the hell those plans entailed… But I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked.

“You’ll find out… Sooner rather than later. You came here looking for a secret. Were Brett Hardy still alive, you’d find none. He was not the most interesting man… But he’s made an excellent host. Perhaps you’ll be an even better one…”

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My heart seized in my chest as I realized what the bug was saying. Hardy's body rose to its feet, still holding the glass of whisky. His lips curled into a knowing smile.

“See Martin… You can’t beat me. You might beat Hardy. But you’ll never beat me. One way or another, I’m going to win. So let’s talk about how you and I can work together…”

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As he took a step toward me, I grabbed for my holstered pistol. As I pulled the gun free, I saw Hardy's eyes widen. The bug slithered back into the hole in his skull the moment before I pulled the trigger. The first shot left a hole in Hardy's cheek. The second went through his throat… The last two went through his chest. He collapsed backward onto the ground and as he died, I saw that pale white shape crawling out of the hole in his skull.

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The bug.

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Good God… It was so much longer than I’d thought… It skittered away on countless legs and I blindly shot at it. I know that I missed. It quickly vanished under his chair and I kept my gun aimed at the spot where it had been just a few moments before.

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My hands shook as I fired three more rounds into the chair, hoping to God I’d hit that horrible thing… But I didn’t know for sure. With my legs shaking, I stumbled backward as I made my way back to the door.

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I thought I saw a flash of white near the chair and fired two more shots before scrambling towards Hardy's door and bursting out onto the street again. I didn’t stop running until I made it to the car, and when I was safely inside I locked the doors tight and hit the gas, speeding away as fast as I could. I didn’t dare look back… Not even once.

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A neighbor found Hardy’s body earlier this evening. Someone else said that they saw a man fleeing the scene. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take before the police find me… But I know they probably will. And when they do, I don’t know if they’re going to buy that Hardy’d already had that hole in his head when I’d arrived.

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Maybe I can claim self defense… Maybe… But I don’t know about my chances. Really, right now it ain’t the prospect of going to prison for a murder that scares me. Right now… What scares me is the fact that I don’t know if I actually killed that thing that’d been in Hardys head or not.

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If I did and they find the body, then just maybe I’ve got a chance to come out of this. But if I didn’t… God only knows where it is now.

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God only knows what it’s planning.

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“You can’t beat me. You might beat Hardy. But you’ll never beat me. One way or another, I’m going to win…”

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That’s what it said to me. And I can still recall the absolute conviction in its voice. It didn’t just believe what it was saying. It knew it was true… And the thing is… I can’t deny that it was probably right.

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Maybe I wasn’t the best mayor Hanover ever had… But I’ve got a feeling that whatevers coming next is going to be a whole hell of a lot worse.