There was no way of knowing how much time had passed in the privacy room. Neil wasn’t keeping track. The long trail of paper that had recounted the story of the Lavender 9 was scrolled out everywhere. It filled the floor, then went up and around, circling his body like a tight scarf. He desperately ran his fingers through it, straightening out the creases so that his goggles could get a better look in the dark. Soon, he knew the story like the back of his hand, but that didn’t keep him from checking over and over again. He knew it was foolish to think that there was something he could have missed. But he kept hoping that a new piece of information would pop up. An answer to one of his many burning questions, or even the slightest indication of what to do next.
His searching slowly devolved into a mad scramble. The paper flew everywhere, tearing into bits of confetti as Neil clawed his way through the records again. He felt his heart beating in his chest, as though it was screaming at him to stop. Did it not understand what was happening?
There’s nothing here! His thoughts called out. There has to be more! There has to be!
Crawling over to where he had left the contraption, he grasped onto the two wheels like a shipwrecked sailor finding a buoyant piece of debris. The machine crackled as he viciously tried to make it produce the vital missing part of the story. But the records were over, and there was nothing else to show.
With a violent jerk, Neil twitched. You were supposed to help me! All you’ve done is give me more questions. Just tell me what to do! How do I get out of this?
“Come on!” He shouted out loud, not caring if his infected friends could hear him. “Just work!”
Not thinking, he slammed the machine down on the ground. With a startling crack, the record keeper burst into pieces. Shattered bits of metal rolled away from the impact, and a mass of mangled circuit boards bent as the entire structure collapsed in on itself. The room was briefly lit up as a round circuit surrounded by a roll of paper let out a bright spark.
Shit.
Neil didn’t know what he was doing. Right now, it was like he was in an echo chamber of his own emotions. His worst fears, the paranoias that he had been told would never happen, were coming true. Strangely, there was a bit of bitter satisfaction in this realization. After so long of being told that he was wrong, he was finally proven right- the universe was truly a terrifying mesh of threats, after all. He wanted to go to his friends as say, ‘see? Didn’t I tell you this would happen?’
But his friends were gone now. They were dead like the entire crew of the Lavender 9.
It sunk in for him then what that meant. There was no cure. He couldn’t help them. No. That can’t be it. They can’t just be… gone.
In a moment of panic, Neil realized that there was something in his eye. Naturally, his first assumption was that he was under attack from a parasite, and so he desperately reached up to bat it away. Instead, he found that his cheek was wet. Was he bleeding? He lifted up his goggles, feeling around for any wounds he may not have noticed.
Is this a symptom? No, Prometallus didn’t mention anything about tears. Oh. Well, I guess that’s the simplest answer. I’m crying. Huh. I didn’t know I could still do that. Thought I stopped doing it after a few months in here. Good to see that it still works. He tried to take a deep breath, but his nose had gone stuffy. God, look at me. I’m a fucking mess. At least no one can see me. I bet Sophia wouldn’t let me live this down.
Why did he think that? He knew Sophia wouldn’t care to see him cry. She’d just wait for him to come out of his mood, squeeze his hand, and ask if he’s okay. When had she become so cruel in his mind?
He couldn’t help but glance down at the hole in his chest.
Would any of his friends care if he cried in front of them? After all that they’ve been through together, would opening himself up a little be so hard? He looked around the silent room. Why had he run here whenever he felt bad? It was his natural instinct- to hide away in the dark. Here, there was no one that could hurt him. He was safe… and alone.
Neil placed his head on the ground, allowing his body to rest for just a moment. He knew he was still crying. Yet, he didn’t make a sound. By now, he’d gathered that the parasites somehow couldn’t hear, but his silence was out of habit. It was always like him to be quiet. That’s just the way he got by.
I wish I could talk to Alex. They were boring as hell, but I’d kill to hear him make up one of his stories. He was good at that. I can’t remember half of them, but it was something to do while we waited. We’d always play catch with a food can, and I could just turn my brain off and listen to him ramble on. Never thought that I would miss that.
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. All these memories only served to remind him that the people he cared about were dead, and there was nothing he could do to bring them back. It was stupid of him to get close. That was a mistake. Maybe if he didn’t care about them, this would all be so much easier?
Stop thinking about it. He told himself. It was a struggle to keep the image of a giant insect burrowing into the flesh of his friends out of his mind…. It’s tiny legs scurrying around, with a pair of sharp pincers biting each and every vein. Just let it go. Let them go.
If he was understanding the records correctly, there might be some hope for him. The old crew wasn’t in the Lavender 9 when they had searched it, and seeing how there was nowhere else to go, that must only mean one thing.
‘There is no dust.’ He repeated. That stuff we found everywhere wasn’t dust. It was the crew.
So that’s what was going to happen to his friends? Slowly and painfully, they would be reduced down until there was nothing left. The process must have already started.
Can they feel it happening? Does it hurt?
He shook his head. Dwelling on the details was pointless. Still, he couldn’t help but keep thinking about it.
They’re in dreams? I don’t get that. They’re up and moving. I thought that you had to be asleep to do that. What are they seeing? Prometallus saw his home, so I guess it must be like that. Something good to make you want to keep dreaming. Catching flies with honey and all that.
Pursing his lips, Neil wondered what his dream would be about. It was hard to narrow down a memory that he would love to live in, so he didn’t bother. He figured he’d leave that job to the parasites. If they ever caught him.
Steadily, the boy in the tattered coat picked himself up. With methodical concentration, he focused his attention on trying to gather the pieces of the records he smashed. There was no hope of repairing it. Even his tinkering habit couldn’t fix broken metal without some sort of tool. Making a pile of scrap was the only activity he could think of. It wasn’t like he could go out and find something else to do.
This is my plan, huh? I’ll just sit here until those things dissolve my friends? No, not my friends. They’re the people who tried to kill me. Just the guys I got trapped with. That’s all. I warned them, didn’t I? That ship was obviously a death trap. They should’ve listened! I was an idiot to follow them in. Luckily, I’m still alive. He felt the lenses of his goggles. Ah. That’s why. Can’t get in my eye if it’s covered. Now, after this is all over, I know it will be safe. I’ll just wear these all the time. No big deal! I can get used to it.
Neil started to pile the pieces of junk on top of each other. He began with a base of metal and worked his way up with some of the circuits. It became a balancing act to find the right parts to go on top of each other.
No one can blame me for what I’m doing. I bet they would do the same in my position! If the roles were switched, they’d wouldn’t stick their necks out for me. It’s not like there’s anything I can do. There’s no cure! That’s what he said! They’re as good as dead, and I’m not going to join them. Let whatever happens happen. I’ll stay in here until it’s over.
The tower was getting higher and was nearly up to his waist. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite focus on what he was doing. It was like his mind was going elsewhere without his control.
I’ve made it on my own before. I can be alone again. It’s easy when you get used to it! There isn’t anyone arguing on about pilot’s seats or plans for the future. No accidental trips to alien planets, or pirate kidnappers. None of that was on me. I was fine before they got here. Safer. They just made things worse.
As disconcerting as the term of measurement was, the junk tower had reached up to the hole in his chest. He had constructed it quite well, and it was holding steady as he continued to place more on top of it.
No. Don’t feel bad for Timothy. He got himself into this. They didn’t force him. It wasn’t like he had to sit in the chair. If he was smart, he would’ve just stayed at home. Well, his orphanage. Shit. I guess I would want to escape a place like that if I were him, too. The way he talks about it, you’d think it was a hotel or something. One of his hugs would be nice. Why did I always hate when he offered them? Yeah, it’s a little weird, but what was the harm? Stop it. Stop thinking about them! They’re gone, okay?
With a shake of his head, he placed the final piece of junk on the tower. It was eye-level now, and he could see it in the entirety of its not-so-intricate craftsmanship. All it did was sit there, doing nothing. He didn’t expect it to do anything else, but there was an emptiness there that left him hollow.
Silently, Neil sat there. After what felt like hours, a whisper of a smile crept along his jaw. He had put up a good fight, but try as he might, none of this was working. Why couldn’t he just be heartless? It would be so much easier not to care. But he did.
I’ve been stalling, huh? He sighed. Yep.
With a wave of his hand, the tower came crashing down. Standing up, he kicked what remained of the base across the room, like he was aiming for a field goal. “Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!” Came the shouts as he marched to the door.
You guys just had to go and put yourselves in danger! You couldn’t stay on the goddamn ship where it’s safe!
Neil placed his ear to the frame and listened carefully, as he had done before. Nothing was stirring outside, though there was still no way of knowing where the danger lurked. He gritted his teeth as he wiped away his tears.
What am I doing? I’m just going to get myself killed. He twitched, fighting back against his own thoughts. We all gotta die sometime. The least I can do is go out on my own terms. There has to be something I’m missing.
Not allowing himself any more time to think, he popped the door open and ran out. Looking left and right, he saw that both ways were clear. This was good, as he had no idea where he was actually going. Currently, he was only running on fumes and an uncharacteristic lack of self-preservation. So, it was probably best if he acted quickly, before the pseudo-buzz faded.
Think, think, think? What can I do? Locking them in the cleaning tubes won’t work. Seen how well that played out. Isn’t like I’d be able to get them back in there or seal the lock. Fighting back will just get me killed. I don’t even have a knife to bring to Sophia’s gunfight. The other Lavender! That’s where I’ll go. We didn’t find anything the first time around, but maybe there’s something we missed.
The boy in the tattered coat was a grey streak as he ran down the corridor. He wasn’t as fast as he was used to being. Even though his wound was on his chest, it still felt like it was weighing him down. His center of balance was off, and staying stable was a small task. He was already feeling winded. The short burst of energy was drying up.
Tightening his goggles, he willed himself forward. The panic was seeping in. This is wrong. I should go back. Every doorway and corner caused a rise of terror in his soul. Besides from the gas canister, which he was now idly clutching inside his pocket, he had no way of defending himself from an attack. He was completely exposed.
His footsteps echoed throughout the Lavender and fell on deaf ears. As he turned the corner, the entrance into the doomed ship appeared. Perhaps he was being paranoid again, but he could’ve sworn that the little stitch that split the hallway in two had grown larger. Instead of a nearly imperceptible line, there was a foggy black patch the width of three of his fingers.
Cautiously, Neil approached. Not being one to accept any type of change as a coincidence, he tenderly stretched out one of his feet and nudged the seam. Nothing happened. “I know this isn’t good,” He spoke out loud to himself. But what am I supposed to do about it?
With an anxiety filled hop, he crossed into the Lavender 9. The mirrored hallway greeted him once again. Yet, this time, it was different. He knew this place now, as he had seen the records. Witnessing the events go down in writing was frightening enough. Being in the place where so many had died was another matter entirely. Since the start, he had never liked this place. There was an uncomfortable feeling to it. His Lavender was a prison, but at least he could see where he was going. The cold was manageable, unlike here, where the chill seeped its way through his coat and into his open wound.
‘My’ Lavender? Neil caught himself thinking, again. Jeez, I’m messed up in the head.
He made his way into the other corridor. Once more, he looked both ways, his goggles allowing him to pierce through the dark. Nothing. He figured that the best place to go to find answers was the Med room. While they hadn’t seen anything when they first passed, perhaps a closer look would reveal something.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
An eyeball in a jar, probably.
Neil crept along, making sure to check every doorway for one of his friends. Nervously, he made sure that his goggles were firmly covering his eyes. Dust was everywhere, and he wouldn’t want it getting in. The only sounds were the subtle creek of something deep within the ship, the faint release of his breath, and the tapping of his footsteps on the ground. Without realizing it, he started to keep track of them all.
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
Reaching the medical room, he poked his head through the door. It was the same as the room on his ship. Cabinets were around the walls and floor, and a giant table was in the middle. He remembered when Timothy had first appeared to them. The head injury didn’t look awful, though that hadn’t stopped Neil from assuming that his demise was imminent. Sophia had patched him up. Her mother’s skills as a nurse had rubbed off on her a bit, he guessed. It was funny looking back. No one knew that they’d be heading here, infected, and dying. Not even his wildest paranoias could have predicted that one.
Thanits had been on that table too, although her fate was quite different from his friends’. He felt a swell in his throat as he thought about the pilot’s seat. How many times had they put Timothy in there? What happened to her could have easily happened to him. If they had kept pushing him, like they were doing before all of this went down, would he have ended up a mindless husk?
Maybe it didn’t matter. With the parasites, that same fate might have already happened.
Walking to the cabinets, he tossed them open. There was a lot more stuff inside than there was in the Lavender 1. A scattered array of odd-looking tools, small bits of what appeared to be medical equipment, and a mass of honey-colored bandages. Mending binds. He reminded himself of their official name.
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
Neil’s eyes narrowed as he scrounged around for clues. There was a strange absence of them. From the records, he knew how many people had died in here. Shouldn’t there be stains? They had barred the doors with bedframes, yet he didn’t see any. All he saw was dust, coating the floor like cheese on a pan.
A vein in his neck twitched as he closed his mouth, trying to keep himself from vomiting. It hadn’t escaped him that he was breathing in the corpses of the long departed, although he desperately wished it had. The goggles had become foggier as he moved around and unintentionally kicked the stuff up from the floor. He wiped them clean with his coat sleeve, trying not to picture himself standing in a graveyard.
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
“Damn it.” He said, slamming a cabinet drawer shut.
There was a part of him wanted to find the sample that Prometallus had taken. He stood and craned his neck. Even if he did find what he was looking for, it was silly of him to think that he would be able to make something of it. If an alien scientist couldn’t figure it out, how could he? Suddenly, his eyes popped open. There is no cure… for ‘them?’
There was an odd ticklish sensation spreading across his body. Examining himself, he saw that the hairs on his arms were standing up. Then, the familiar tug in the back of his mind began to pull. He hastily scanned the room but found no danger. Still, every urge in his body was telling him to run.
Something’s wrong.
Not one to ignore a warning sign, he ducked behind the table. For a moment, he felt silly for doing it. It was like he was back at the Candid Cantina, hiding beneath booths at the slightest bit of danger. Then it hit him. I’m not moving. So why do I still hear footsteps?
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
It was Alex. His red suit appeared in the dim light of the doorway as he passed by. He had almost gone away, but at the last second, he stopped. With a sharp motion, his neck craned towards the table, and then tilted.
Only then did Neil look down to see that the tattered end of his coat was sticking out from the side. “Shit.” He bolted upright, readying himself to run. “Wait. What are you doing?”
Like a tree growing limbs, Alex reached out and gripped the sides of the entrance. His fingers curled unnaturally as they tried to dig into the dark metal. With a roll of his shoulders, he opened his mouth wide, and his teeth glinted in the dark.
There was silence as Neil tried to put together what was happening. “You’re not attacking me? No. You’re keeping me here.” He shivered as he looked at the smile. “Happy about something? Well, that’s not good. I don’t want to imagine what a parasite could get excited about.”
It was hard to think of his friend as something different. Right now, there were two people standing in front of him. A caring ally, and the thing inside him. Seeing how he wasn’t being attacked, he stepped a little closer. Alex’s eyes had become as red as his suit, with his eyelids appearing to have been peeled back, like they were some kind of fruit.
“So, who am I talking to? My friend, or the parasite?” He asked, leaning in. “Can you hear me, man? Hello! It’s me, Neil! You’re in a dream!”
He merely shifted his head a little to the side.
“Yeah, I figured. If it was that easy, this would’ve been over already.” With a pout, Neil let out a long sigh. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I really need you right now! You’re the smart one, not me. If you were here, you’d probably know what to do. I’m just making shit up as I go along. Alex, I don’t know if I can save you.”
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
His ears perked up as something approached far off in the distance. “You’re just waiting for Sophia, aren’t you? She’s coming to finish me off!” He cursed under his breath. “Let me go.”
Something wiggled beneath Alex’s eye.
“I don’t want to fight you.” Silently, he wondered if he even could. Stepping up to his friend, he raised his fists. “But I’m doing a lot of things that I don’t want to do today.”
Raising his arm back, Neil prepared to deliver a punch. Alex reacted, tossing out his hands to catch the blow. However, the boy in the tattered coat abandoned his attack, ducked down and tossed himself through the gap his friend had left open.
Neil knew that this song and dance had been done before. Running from Alex wasn’t going to work. He needed a way to get out of his line of sight. That was the only way these things would leave him alone. Picking himself up, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the gas canister. It had worked before, and he was counting on it being consistent. He reached out, preparing to push the button.
But whatever was inside his friend had apparently learned better. In a streak of red, the boy in the suit spun on his heel and slapped the weapon away. It went flying through the air before bouncing to a halt in front of a flickering floor light.
“Well…” Neil didn’t bother ending his sentence before he broke off into a dead sprint.
What do I do? What do I do?
There wasn’t much time to think. He could hear his friend panting from behind as he tried to keep up. It was a raspy noise, like he had been smoking for years. A little hope sprung into his mind. Perhaps they were getting tired? A quick glance over his shoulder sent that thought swirling down to the pits of despair. He could’ve sworn that they had been further apart.
The Caf room was up ahead, and Neil had to will himself to make it. If he had known that he would be running so much, he would have practiced.
Narrowly reaching the chamber, he scanned the room for anything to defend himself with. The tables? No, he wouldn’t be able to lift one. A chair! He did have experience with them, after all.
As he tried to move forward, he unexpectedly found that his legs weren’t cooperating. Landing on his side, there was a moment where he thought about crawling. Maybe he could make it to a chair in time? Who am I kidding?
It took only seconds for Alex, or rather the creature, to step through the doorway. When they saw that their prey was already on the ground, one could have mistaken the shift in expression for gleeful joy. Though, this was a little thrown off by the eyes full of deep, primal hunger. Almost cockily, they took their time approaching. He was cornered, after all.
“What is this?” Neil wheezed out, like his lungs were failing him. “Are you playing with your food? C’mon, man. Guess parasites don’t know about manners.” Rolling over to his back, he started to push himself towards the wall with the large machine. “Before you kill me, I gotta ask. Why? What do you want? Is there a point to all of this?”
Alex tilted his head. Then, without allowing their eyes to drift away, they walked over and grabbed a chair. Raising it above their head, they slammed it down, breaking it apart. Now, they had a not-so-lovely piece of metal in their hands. Perfect for bludgeoning.
“Hey! That was my idea.” His shoulders shaking, Neil felt some nobs and switches press against his coat. “I didn’t picture it like this. When I died in my nightmares, it was always sudden. More of a flash than a burnout, if you know what I mean.” He watched as they got closer. “Don’t know what I was thinking. That body you’ve stolen was pretty smart. He was a great liar, like, really good. The type that could make up a story on the spot and you’d believe it. Not like me. I’m not clever or cunning. What I do best is hiding… and I guess I kinda gave up on that when I left my room.”
Almost as though they were trying to be frightening, Alex- or rather the creature- let the weapon slide across the ground. The scraping was ear-piercing, though the creature didn’t have to worry about that.
Neil forced himself up by using the machine as a crutch. “You know, you picked some pretty good hosts. Sophia’s strong and determined. If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t be here for you to infect. Then you’ve got Timothy. That kid is the kindest guy I know. But I guess that isn’t really a trait you care about.” His eyes darted to the ground as his brows narrowed. “Although, there is one thing that I have over my friends.”
The boy in the suit almost looked puzzled, though that couldn’t be right. They were so close now that they could feel his breath on their skin. Bloody fingers gripped the metal bar, readying themselves for a good swing.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you.” Abruptly, Neil reached out and pulled one of the levers. “No matter what they do, I’ll always know this place better than them!”
The entire wall of the Lavender 9 appeared to rattle as the machine was brought to life. Alex had no time to react before a food canister came whizzing out of the dispenser. The impact was a hardy crack to the face, and a splotch of blood shot out from his nose. The canister didn’t have a better time either, as bits of gunky sludge erupted from its confinement and sprayed everywhere. With a loud screech, the boy doubled over, shielding his eyes with the cups of his hands.
“I’m sorry, man.” Neil said as he took his opportunity to leave. A part of him felt guilty for having to do that to his friend. The other part really couldn’t care less and was just happy to still be alive. He had almost made it out of the room when he heard it.
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
Sophia. He had forgotten all about her. Maybe I can outrun her? The feeble bending of his knees was enough to sway him away from that notion. Fight back? Against a gun? He may as well toss himself off a cliff. Sluggishly, he backed away from the door. Hide? There was nowhere to go.
From around the corner, Timothy stepped into the room.
The gasp of relief that Neil let out was so strong that it nearly took him off his feet. Still, he forced himself to regain his composure. While not as dangerous as his friend with a gun, Tim could still pose a threat. Observing him closely, he noticed that he didn’t have the pipe anymore. His lopsided smile was still there, however. As disconcerting as ever. The two made eye-contact for a moment. They had seen each other, and yet, the boy in the yellow sweater was making his way to the tables.
With his ever-plastered cherry expression, Timothy pulled out a chair. He made sure that he raised it so that it didn’t squeak or leave marks. Then he simply took a seat and starred off into the distance, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee.
Neil blinked slowly, opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it.
The corridor was empty, which was quite a relief. There was a chance that Sophia could show up anywhere, so he didn’t let his guard down. The only time he stopped was to crouch and retrieve the gas canister from the floor. As he did, the light next to it flickered rapidly. You’re not supposed to do that.
Finally, he reached the entrance back into his Lavender. He started to go through, but an anxious tug on the back of his head told him to wait. What are you going to do if you go back to the room? You’re supposed to be helping your friends, not leaving them. He bit his tongue. I can’t do this! I tried! But there’s nothing here. All I’m doing is throwing my life away!
His coat twirled as he spun around, facing back into the gloomy hallway. “The control room might have something.” He sighed. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”
Heading back into danger, Neil made sure he checked, and double checked each and every door. Occasionally, he would look over his shoulder to make sure that no one was following him. I must have hit Alex pretty good.
There was a sullen feeling as he passed the privacy room. The refocusing chamber. He corrected. All that dust they had found in there, the piles and piles of it, were once people. It was like he was passing a graveyard full of people he never met, but still could feel the loss of. This was the only place he didn’t check. It seemed wrong to go in.
The two metal doors were still cracked open from the last time they had come here. Being an expert at this by now, he stuck his hand inside and waved. Seeing how he still had fingers left, the coast must be clear. Inside, the silently blaring red lights glinted off the lenses of his goggles. Looking around the dome, he couldn’t help but think about all the things he read. The fights, the killings… the screaming.
Neil tried to not to dwell. He was here to find more clues. If there were any to be had, that is. First, he tried circling the controls. They had found the recorder lodged inside, and it wasn’t that farfetched to think that there may be another. Though, there wasn’t anything obvious that was sticking out.
A spark flew out from an open panel, and he jumped back. Then, with a deep groan, the ship rocked. He managed to keep his balance as the shaking continued. I can see why we got out of here so fast the last time. Shortly, the rocking subsided. Yet, he felt that there was something still off.
Glancing around, he only noticed it when he spotted the end of his coat. It was lifting into the air, like someone was tugging on an invisible thread. Not only that, but if he didn’t know any better, he would say he was feeling much lighter than usual. With a curiously narrowed brow, he allowed himself to perform a small hop. His body floated into the air, before falling softly to the ground as though he were light as a feather.
Lavender 9, I think you might have a gravity problem. On cue, the end of his coat flapped against his leg as all returned to normal. There is definitely something wrong with this place.
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
Someone was coming.
Neil had been through this before. The dome had nowhere to hide, but he knew what to do. Pulling out the gas canister, he decided that it was best to activate it now and not take the risk. He pressed the button, waiting for the smoke to billow out and hide his escape. It was a little awkward when it didn’t.
No, no, no! Don’t jam now!
Creek, huff, tap-tap.
Running to the corner, he folded himself along the wall like he had done before. If these things are intelligent, this won’t work again. His heart was in his throat as he started pressing the button over and over, hoping for it to miraculously function. I should’ve seen this shit coming! Nothing ever works when you need it too!
His throat was suddenly a lot lighter when his heart moved down to his stomach. There was one place that they hadn’t checked. One place where he could go. There was no time to think about what he was doing. In a flash, he bounded over to the controls, pulling a lever. From behind him, he could sense as the floor split apart, and a familiar platform raised.
Waiting until it was over, he threw the lever again. Neil turned around and dived, allowing his body to slide across the floor and drop on to the platform before the floor closed above him. His wound flared with blistering pain, and he stifled a scream. In the second before everything went dark, he saw a green jacket enter through the room. He didn’t know if she had seen him.
There was silence. Laying there with his eyes closed, Neil felt the object at his side. He knew what it was- that wasn’t a mystery. It just pained him to be so close to it again. “Hello, again, chair.”
When he opened his eyes, it took a moment for his goggles to adjust to the increase in darkness. There was a twinge in his chest. He had never been in this place before. All that was around him was a web of cords, stretching out and around the cramped room. They were massive and sturdy, reaching down and out to places unseen. There was barely any room for him to stand. It was a fight between him and the chair for space.
Standing up, Neil bumped his head against the ceiling. Cramped wasn’t even the word. He bit his lip as he let it sink in. I’m alone down here. Shit. How am I going to get out?
His attention pulled away as the pilot’s seat became clearer. It was different from his Lavender’s. There weren’t any wires or loose cables strangling it at the bottom. Somehow, it felt newer. The armrests looked comfortable, with a lot more padding. It was a little unnerving, considering how poorly kept the rest of the ship was.
Then he saw the helmet. What remained of it, that is.
Neil reached out and felt it. The birdcage-like bars were gone, with only hints of what used to be there reaching down in small silver shards. The metal was darkened, like there had been some terrible fire. As he put his hand down, he grazed against something that felt like fabric. He grabbed at it, only to find that it was firm.
Throughout his life, Neil had managed to survive by keep quiet. Now, as the goggles around his eyes became clear, he let out a gut-wrenching howl at the very top of his lungs.
There was something in the pilot’s seat.
What he was holding was a shoulder- a part of a body.
A body without a head.