Author’s Notes: I’ve been a fan of the Animorphs from the 2nd book until the end. I’ve recently gotten back into reading some of the series and was inspired to work a bit on my self-insertion fanfic. WARNING!!!: This IS a self-insertion. It’s assuming the last ten books never happened, and the war continued. It’s assuming *I* was there all along. It’s running on the “Alternamorphs” concept, in which there are six human Animorphs. I made myself the sixth human, and am writing this story set in current time. It’s 2007? It’s 2007 in the story. As for how long it will be? I have no idea.
Disclaimer: The Animorphs belong to Scholastic and K.A. Applegate. Not me… Despite the fact that I could’ve ended it on a happy note. =P
Sixteen questions out of fifty. Those were what I wasn’t sure about on this test. And the difference between getting an A and a C was built on guesswork… Fun. I love that this is what I’m worried about today. Today of all days. Not saving the world. Not violence and death… Bombing an exam because I missed the last class. That’s my big fear today.
Of course, I missed the last class because I was fighting for my life, but that’s another story.
Perhaps I should start over.
My name is Kathy. Just Kathy. No last name. It isn’t that I don’t have one. It’s not even that I don’t trust you. It’s what might be in your head that I have issues with.
The rundown: aliens are real. They’re invading earth. They’re all around you, and you don’t even know it. Assuming you’re still YOU.
They’re called Yeerks. Parasitic slugs that infest human beings by crawling in through their ear canal and wrapping their disgusting, slimy bodies around your brain. They sink into all the little crevices and wrinkles, tapping into your memories. Your motor skills. Your voice. They take over your life. You’re trapped in a small area of your own skull, unable to do anything but scream and cry. And the worst part? No one around you can tell the difference. You can still see, you can still hear, but your life isn’t yours anymore.
You’ve become what we call a human-controller.
Other species are Controllers, of course. Species the Yeerks have already taken. The Hork-Bajir: 7 foot tall walking salad shooters of death. The Taxxons: disgusting, cannibalistic worms. The Gedds: a monkey-like species from the Yeerk’s own home planet.
And one Andalite.
Andalites are the good guys of the galaxy, for the most part. They’re the enemies of the Yeerks. Imagine a Greek centaur, but with a lower body that resembles a deer more than a horse. Now put on a long, whip-like scorpion tail with a huge blade at the end that can whip around faster than you can blink. Make the upper body a little more delicate than a human’s, and add a couple of extra fingers to each hand. Remove the mouth completely; Andalites eat grass by absorbing it through their hooves as they run or walk, and they speak with thought-speak. No need for a mouth. The nose becomes three slits, and you add two extra eyes on stalks atop the head, and the ears get a bit pointy. Finally, cover the whole creature with light blue and tan fur. That is an Andalite.
Visser Three is the only Andalite-Controller. I’ve often wished that I knew the whole story behind his infestation, but our resident alien, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, (or Ax, for short), is very closed-mouthed (so to speak) about certain stories from his species’ history. I think it’s Andalites as a whole, but I can’t be sure.
There are seven of us, you see. Jake, our Fearless Leader. Rachel, Jake’s cousin and our own personal Xena: Warrior Princess. Marco, the comic relief. Cassie, who is our resident animal expert along with myself. Tobias, boy-turned-hawk who’s become what the Andalites call a “nothlit,” a creature trapped forever in a body not their own. And Ax.
How did Tobias become a hawk, you ask? That has to do with the only weapon against the Yeerks our little band has, aside from anonymity. We have Andalite morphing technology. We can acquire the DNA of any animal we touch, and then by some process I don’t think even Ax understands, and through focus and control, we can become that animal.
There’s a down side to morphing, though. Stay in a morph more than two hours, and you stay forever. That happened to Tobias back in one of our first battles, an assault on the formidable Yeerk Pool complex beneath our town.
Yeerks, you see, must drain from their hosts once every 3 days to absorb Kandrona rays (imitations of their own sun’s light) at the Yeerk Pool. If a Yeerk goes more than 3 days without feeding, it dies. I know. I’ve seen it happen.
But none of that is what I’m thinking about now. Now, I’m thinking about how I’ve screwed up my Anthropology exam. It’s so hard to keep our focus on “normal” things… But that’s how we all keep sane.
This war between us and the Yeerks has been going on for over 13 years now. It started when we were all just young teenagers. Together as a group for the first time, we wound up cutting through the abandoned construction site on our respective ways back home. That’s when we saw the damaged Andalite fighter land. That’s when we learned about the war between Andalites and the Yeerks. And that’s when we were given the morphing power by a great Andalite Prince, Ax’s older brother, Elfangor.
I will forever remember his screams as Visser Three killed him… They mingle with all the other horrible sounds and sights I’ve seen in these 13 years in my nightmares.
Thirteen years of war. I think we all try to put out of our minds that it’s gone on this long. We aren’t winning… but we aren’t losing, either. We win decisive battles, but the Yeerks will always outnumber us. I think we all secretly fear Visser One, who’s pushing the non-violent invasion, being pushed out of office by Visser Three… An all out war would cause I don’t even KNOW how many casualties…
But it’s been 13 years without a human death on our hands. We’ve killed Hork-Bajir… We’ve killed Taxxons and Gedds… But never humans. It’s amazing that the Yeerks haven’t put two and two together yet and realized that the “Andalite Bandits” they’ve been battling these 13 years are mostly humans. Children, at that. Though we’re all adults now.
I worry about Tobias, sometimes. Morphing regenerates everything from DNA, but DNA ages along with you. Sometimes I wonder if the Ellimist gave Tobias a human lifespan when he gave him back his morphing ability all those years ago. Because as a hawk, he should be on his last legs now… But he’s still going strong. There’s a hint of silver to his feathers, but other than that, he seems fine. Still maintaining his territory in the meadow on Cassie’s family’s property, spending time at Ax’s well hidden scoop (an Andalite house) to watch TV from time to time.
Ax has grown, too. He’s almost as big as his brother was, now. And the resemblance is absolutely striking. I see Tobias morph Andalite sometimes to run with him… Ax is, after all, Tobias’ uncle.
Don’t even ask. I don’t think *I* understand that one.
Anyway, back to the present. I missed last class because we’d attacked the Yeerk Pool again, trying to head off one of the Visser’s latest schemes. We both succeeded… and failed. Which is relatively normal for us. We foiled his plan, but weren’t able to do any real, lasting damage to the Yeerks. Getting away from the Pool is always our main focus when we’re needed to attack it.
I can’t even count how many times and ways we’ve had to get into that complex… Each time we do, the Yeerks install some new security measure… and we always find a morph, or series of them, that can get through whatever they throw at us. I can only imagine how frustrated Visser Three must be by now… And how many of his underlings he’s sliced to pieces with his stolen Andalite tail blade in anger over our having gotten in.
I try not to think about it, usually.
I wonder if my teacher would notice if I skipped out early… We’re just watching a little video that has nothing to do with class… Just a bonus video. I could leave… Yeah. I’ll leave.
I packed up as quietly as I could and left the classroom. We were on the fourth floor of the building. I couldn’t help but think that, thirteen years ago, this would’ve felt incredibly high to me. But I’ve fallen through the atmosphere after being blown out of the hatch of a space craft. I’ve morphed, in mid air, and barely been able to pull up before hitting the ground. I’ve felt asphalt scrape my breastbone and my wings straining as I miss a sudden death by a split second.
Yeah… Four stories just isn’t that high anymore.
I took the elevator down to the first floor, then headed for my sister’s car, which I’d borrowed for the evening. Age has made a difference in our preferred modes of transportation. Driving is a lovely thing, even for an Animorph.
As I was driving home, my mind still on my bombed exam, I noticed something. Or, rather, someone.
Chapman. The vice principal of our old school. Also a very high ranking Human-Controller.
And he was walking, not driving… Heading right for (if I wasn’t mistaken) a very specific abandoned construction site.
Looks like my self-pity and thoughts of home and bed would have to wait…