The infidroni (/ˈɪnfɪdroʊni/) is an embryonic stranger that floats in viscid fluid within an enclosed chamber. Its skin is so soft and delicate that it can be torn with a jagged fingernail, while its flesh is translucent enough to allow even the dim light of a cell phone to shine through its body. Like the buledroni, the infidroni possesses eyelids that cover its eye markings, although its diaphanous flesh allows these markings to be seen even through its skin, much like the eyes of a developing fetus. The infidroni possesses small buds in lieu of arms, with only 34% of individuals presenting with one pair of rudimentary appendages located towards the face.
The infidroni's healing ability appears negligible, with even small scrapes causing a gradual and exponential softening of the skin around them.
The infidroni appears in hollow but airtight cavities of over five cubic inches in size. It can often be found inside stone walls, beneath cement floors, or in caves deep beneath certain cities, but also occasionally appears in empty septic tanks, unused water heaters, and enclosed pools. The infidroni grows from a tiny, egg-like form, which exudes copious amounts of thick, semiopaque fluid as it develops. As this fluid, which ranges from clear to deep carmine in tint, fills the infidroni's chamber, the infidroni grows larger, and floats with placid contentment in its home. The infidroni is unable to survive exposure to oxygen, and thus requires submersion in this fluid to stay alive.
The infidroni possess a tender and unspoiled temperament. It spends its life floating in its chamber, observing the world around it in its own, distanced way. Sounds – especially human conversation – cause it to grow more active, and any vibrations in the walls around it entice the infidroni into squirming and repositioning itself. It babbles to itself during periods of silence, in a voice that is soft, high-pitched, and child-like. It possesses no language of its own and struggles to imitate human speech, but is capable of mimicking animal noises. As such, it is not uncommon to hear an infidroni meow or woof inside its chamber, as though making some vague attempt to draw these animals to its location.
The infidroni grows to fill the space in which it dwells. The empty inner spaces between the bricks and cement slabs of buildings house infidroni small enough to fit in the palm of one's hand, while generously-sized, forgotten industrial tanks deep underground contain car-sized (or larger) individuals.
Pairs of infidroni display no particular social behaviours, aside from the occasional bumping of sides or tickling of arms as they float in tandem.
The infidroni, although unable to directly interact with sensitives, displays great pleasure at their presence, and scratches at the walls of its chamber with excited wiggling, burbles to itself, or turns itself over and over, as though fawning before an unseen audience.
In addition, when around a sensitive, the infidroni generates duplicates of the sensitive's organs inside its own body. On a cellular level, these organs are such exact duplicates that they could be transplanted into the originating sensitive's body with no risk of rejection. Unlike the original organs, however, the infidroni's duplicate organs are always white or clear in coloration, and do not link together in any way that resembles the life systems of any living creature. Several livers may grow together to form a circular formation, while intestines may connect directly to the lungs. In addition, the infidroni never duplicates any organs found above the neck, nor does it duplicate bone or muscle tissue.
The infidroni requires around one hour of continuous exposure to a sensitive to grow these duplicate organs to maturity. When organs are unable to grow to maturity, they dissolve and are re-absorbed into the infidroni's body. Otherwise, they remain inside the infidroni's body for the remainder of its life. An infidroni does have a limit in terms of how many organs its body can support, and once its body is approximately one-third filled, it will not generate further duplicates.
The infidroni displays great sadness when near any sensitive stricken with cancer or any other severe illness that destroys or supplants organ tissue. When around a sensitive with lung cancer, for example, the infidroni grows multiple, cancer-free duplicates of these lungs, and cries to itself as it desperately presses its body against the walls of its chamber, with little regard for the wounds it causes itself in the process.
The infidroni is unable to survive when removed from its chamber. Cracks in the walls of this chamber can allow the fluid to empty out, while large enough breaks force the infidroni to spill outward, as well, where it lays on the earth like the yolk of a cracked egg. It possesses no defense mechanisms, and, lacking even the strength needed to move itself to safety, can only exude its gel-like fluid in a useless attempt to protect itself.
Although it cries and whimpers when physically assaulted, it cannot resist or display any evasive actions. When attacked by a sensitive whose organs the infidroni has duplicated, the infidroni reaches into its body and pulls these organs out, as though making an offering to stave off its inevitable death.
Once exposed to open air, the infidroni dies after several minutes, and dissolves into thick, corrosive, and toxic black sludge1.
As it nears the end of its life, the infidroni begins to shrink in size in a process mimicking a reversal of its own formation. It displays no malaise or sadness towards this change, and instead, just floats in place with its arms curled tight beneath it as it becomes smaller and less developed, until it disappears altogether. Its fluid evaporates within several hours of the infidroni's disappearance and leaves nothing behind beyond a faint (but not unpleasant) odor of salt and sugar.