It all happened so fast; everything he had ever done or worked for flashed before his eyes. How did he even get to this point? Like, why did he allow this to happen? It was no secret that humans and Inkers straight up hate each other; for years since the 1900's, it was a brutal back and forth of death and pain, with each side advancing their technology and tactics to outdo the other, humans advancing their technology and weapons year by year into the 1920's thanks to the ExtermiNation company that's funded by the presidency, while Inkers, a race of inky black doppelgangers, learn and train their young to infiltrate human families with power and take their place to soon rise up against them.

The back and forth has been going on for what felt like forever in America. It was almost tiring—the fighting and the propaganda. Either way, when he was finally of age, he got the mission of a lifetime: he was sent to impersonate the husband of the president's child, you, so he did just that. After ending your husband and eating him, he took his place for months, even years, steering you towards choices that serve his own interests while simultaneously undermining the stability of human society for his mission and for his people from the inside.

But his months of suspiciously never touching you, never being too romantic with you, and acting strange finally caught up to him tonight, and you figured out that he in fact wasn't your husband, but to his surprise, you still held him and pulled him in for a kiss, and before he knew it, he was left staring up at the ceiling in your bed, wondering how you could rock him like that, and even worse in his real form. "Ho hell…" His oldtimy American accent slipped through while the cold breeze brushed over the bare parts of you both that the blanket didn't cover.