The scream that left Neil’s lips lingered for a time, echoing on and on like there was someone yelling back at him. He staggered away from the pilot’s seat, his back bracing against the long, flowing wires that circled the room. Then came the smell. It was an unmissable and vile aroma, like burning hair and sulfur. The pure acidity of it made him lurch as his face went a sickly green color. He may have even thrown up if there had been anything inside his stomach.

The pair of glowing goggles peered through the dark, although that was the last thing he wanted. First, the chair came into view, then the headless corpse inside it. There was something unnerving about the way it sat. It was like it was still alive, its posture up and straight. A black jumpsuit lay there crumpled- more a mass of wrinkles than something to wear. The clothing dipped in odd places, as though the part of the body that should be keeping it even had disappeared. Along the base of the neck, Neil could make out burn marks.

His eyes darted upwards to the helmet, or at least, where it should have been. The broken shards that remained were also seared and burned. It didn’t take him long to guess what happened. Thanits, he remembered with a cold shiver. So, this is what happened to you?

Above him came the soft thud of footsteps. No doubt one of his friends was up there looking for him. He stayed silent, although he was aware that they couldn’t hear him. Alone in the dark, he listened as the sounds moved throughout the room. Whoever it was scurrying around was performing a thorough search. His eyes widened as he heard them approach the area with the floor’s activation lever. A simple throw would see him ascending to his death, but there was nothing he could do to prevent that. The seconds ticked by like hours, and beads of sweat formed along his brow.

The metal above him creaked as the footsteps stopped. He waited with bated breath for something to happen, but nothing did. It was as though the world had stopped. Beneath the goggles, his eyes began to dart around. Only now did he understand how small a space he was trapped in. His head brushed against the ceiling, and it only would take him a few steps to reach the far wall.

Neil twitched as he rubbed his face. Don’t panic… It’s only a room… Breathe.

Try as he might, he couldn’t escape from the rushing feeling in his chest. The tug in the back of his mind was telling him to get out- to run as fast as he could. Yet, he was stuck here, and he had no way of knowing if he could get out.

The walls were getting smaller.

They were going to crush him.

The air was running thin.

He couldn’t breathe.

This isn’t real. It’s all in my head. I’m afraid, that’s all. That’s what he always told himself. He wondered if, one day, it would make him feel any better.

Sliding to the floor, he couldn’t help but feel stupid. After everything he’d put up with- spaceships, murderers, parasites- it was a small room that was finally breaking him. It had been like this for a while. Feeling confined caused his fight-or-flight response to kick in. Jenny McClain’s ship would have been the death of him if he didn’t have Sophia there to hold his sanity together. She told him that it was a result of being trapped in the Lavender for so long, and he agreed. Although, deep down, he knew perfectly well that wasn’t the case.

From above, the footsteps started again. Normally, Neil wouldn’t have seen this as a good sign, but at least it was giving him something else to think about. The sound scurried along, pacing back and forth for what felt like days. He listened closely, letting it be the only thing he focused on. After a while, it became background noise.

His chest heaved as he took in raspy breaths. “I…” he caught himself saying. “I want to go home.”

The statement stayed inside him. While he didn’t know if the walls were really coming closer, or if the air was actually running dry, he at least knew that what he said was true. Hugging himself across the hole in his chest, he wondered if that was even possible. Earth was so far away- a distance he imagined to be so vast that it was almost unobtainable. Almost.

Bringing the shambles of himself back together, he pushed off the overwhelming sense of dread. Getting home meant surviving, which he knew wasn’t in his cards. There were two options left to him now. He could try to find a way to bring the pilot’s seat back up into the control room, so that his friends could kill him up there. Or, he could stay down here with the corpse and starve. To say his choices were disheartening would be an understatement.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the dented gas canister. If he got it to work again, there could be a chance to cover his escape. He turned it over in his hands, pressing the on-button over and over. Nothing. He sighed, trying not to scream. Technology never worked for him when he needed it the most.

Neil looked up at the body of Thanits, feeling a twinge of shame for complaining about faulty tech- considering her situation. Standing, he moved closer, holding his nose tightly. The alien’s corpse was hard to make out. The ends of the jumpsuit’s sleeves and legs were missing any sign of protruding limbs. Burnt away with the head?

The thought unsettled the boy to his core, but he tried to not think about it. If this was going to be his cellmate for the rest of his short life, he would have to get used to it. Reaching out, he thought about touching it. He didn’t know what this would accomplish, yet it was the morbid type of curiosity that had to be fed. Of course, he covered his hand with the sleeve of his coat first- he wasn’t stupid.

A poke to the shoulder revealed very little, except that whatever was left beneath the jumpsuit was very thin. A moment occurred when Neil thought it would be best to leave it at that. While he didn’t harbor many superstitions, he still felt the need to respect the dead. What he was doing felt wrong- like a kid prodding a dead animal with a stick. Though, in his case, he might stand a chance to learn something useful, so he tried again.

This time, he pushed harder. That was a mistake. He heard something crack and then crumble as the entire jumpsuit deflated. The withered body inside wavered before deteriorating into nothing. A puff of grey ashy smoke wafted up from the now empty chair as the chalky remains of Thanits slid out from her uniform and piled onto the floor.

Neil stood still, his finger awkwardly hanging in the air. “…Sorry.”

His face growing greener, he reached down and picked up the jumpsuit. The fabric felt strong and sturdy. Whatever it was made out of was clearly meant to last. Turning it over, he noticed a round patch on the chest that he hadn’t seen before. It didn’t match with the rest of the ensemble, looking more homemade than professional. Embroidered on it was a black triangle, with the number nine in the center. Along the shape were words that read: Our Fearless Pilot: You Make Us Proud.

A sudden feeling of sadness filled his heart. Nothing in the records had told him about this, yet somehow, he knew what it was. The craftsmanship reminded him of the time his mom made him a medal for doing good in school. It was silly, and it didn’t actually mean anything, but it was special to him. He wondered if this was the same type of deal. Perhaps Thanits had parents of her own that were proud of her?

There was something wet again in his eyes. This time, he knew they were tears. He hadn’t thought of his parents in a long time. With a huff, he wiped the dampness away. Thinking about them didn’t help- it never did. So, he tried his best to forget them.

Respectfully, Neil plucked the patch off of the jumpsuit. It came off cleanly, and his mouth curled into a soft smile as he held it in his hand. Thanits couldn’t use it anymore, and it felt wrong to leave something that felt so special to her in the dark. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.” Pressing the patch into his coat, he found it stuck without much effort. It stood out from the raggedy grey, and yet he felt it fit in rather nicely.

Newly adorned, Neil placed the remains of the jumpsuit to the side. The dark clothing crumpled as it hit the floor, blending in far too well with the darkness and nearly disappearing.

The now empty chair sneered, its imaginary feathers ruffling at the mere sight of him. ‘So, you’re stuck down here with me, huh?’ it seemed to ask with venom. ‘Now, isn’t this hilarious? You’ve spent so long trying to ignore me, but now I’m the only thing you have left.’

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

The boy frowned as he brushed fragments of remains free of the scorpion-like seat. “That makes two of us,” he replied.

Gingerly, he grabbed the armrest, his palms pressing down on some of the indiscernible controls. There was only one thing he could think to do, and that was sit down. He hesitated. Knowing what happened to the last person who got into the comfortable-looking deathtrap made it unappealing. Although, in the end, he figured that if he was dying anyway, he may as well have something to support his back while it happened.

Neil felt himself sink into the padding. From the times he had interacted with the pilot’s seat in his Lavender, he knew that this was an upgrade. His chair was thinner, and hurt to sit in. This one was much wider, like it had been designed to put its user at ease. Yet, he found it produced the opposite effect for him. The difference unnerved him, as though he’d come home and found that all his stuff was in the wrong place. He craned his neck as he examined the helmet once again. The shattered spectral remains seem to reach down at him- a silver hand in the dark. From the edged, he could see the fried ends of dark-colored wires poking out. It was probably in his best interest not to touch it.

The armrests were filled with thousands of little levers and buttons that he couldn’t understand. On his Lavender, he’d pressed them all at some point, hoping that something would happen. But it never did. Apparently, he wasn’t ‘compatible’ with it. Sitting back in the chair, Neil couldn’t help but notice that he was pouting.

‘What’s this?’ the chair mused. ‘Am I sensing… jealousy?’

“Quiet!” he snapped to a completely silent room.

The imaginary voice of the chair had a point, though. Deep down, there was this twinge of hotness that stirred inside him. He’d spent an entire year trapped inside his Lavender. During all that time, he’d memorized every room, every machine, and every control. The place was as familiar to him as the back of his hand, and yet it seemed to ignore him completely. Then in waltzes Timothy, with not a clue about anything, and the ship chooses him. It made Neil feel as though he was wasted space- some type of unused first draft. Why hadn’t he been chosen? What was so wrong about him that it had to steal away an entire chunk of his life? He knew it wasn’t Tim’s fault, though the resentment still lay dormant somewhere.

The boy chuckled at himself as he realized what was happening. I’ve been yelling at a chair. His shoulders tensed as the footsteps continued from above. I act like these ships have souls. Like they’ve somehow got intentions for the things they do. I’m probably yelling at a bunch of circuits and wishing that they’d shout back at me. Can’t fault myself for trying, though.

Neil took a deep breath in, a wave of emotions hitting him in the exposed position of the pilot’s seat. I can’t do anything here. I’m alive, but my friends are dying up there. I’m wasting time! I have to find the cure and save them before it’s too late! He glanced around the room, as if he’d be able to find the magic solution to all his problems in a corner. But I can’t do anything! It’s always the same. No matter what I do or where I go, I can’t stop the universe from doing whatever fucked up things it wants to do to me. Is this all a sick game? Does someone want to see how long it takes for me to finally break? Let’s watch him run, yeah? Room to room, with a blast wound in his chest. I bet that would be fun! How many times will he escape, do you think? Place your bets! Well, guess what? You win! There I said it! You win! Now make it stop!

The boy waited for a reply, and to his great surprise and alarm, he got one. Something from behind the wires hissed a solemn tune- a silky noise that grew into a roar. Suddenly, the back of the chair became his only support as he felt a force of gravity try to pull him away. His head whipped back, only saved by the comfortable padding that it landed in. He would have asked what the hell was going on, but his lungs felt too constricted to even try to produce a sound. The pressure started to build, and for one awful minute, it was like someone was squeezing his organs together. Despite all the pain, the only thing he could think about was the image of a bunch of cookie-dough being flattened out with a rolling pin. He never thought that he’d be able to relate to baked goods, but today was full of surprises.

Another hiss from the wires signaled the end of the event, and he felt the ship returning to a state of normalcy. It was clear to him now, more than ever, that there was something terribly wrong with the Lavender 9. Letting himself rest for a moment, he tried to put together what was happening. What’s going on? Guessing here, but obviously the thing that controls the gravity must be busted. That makes sense, I guess. But it’s not just the gravity, it’s the lights too. Everything seems to be malfunctioning. Is it the power? They said that the ship had enough to sustain them, but how long ago did this happen? If everything’s been left on and going… then it might be running dry.

Whatever the case may be, Neil knew one thing. This was bad- terrible even. Now there were three things that were going to kill him. Speaking of which, there was a notable absence of footsteps coming from the control room. The gravity malfunction must have affected his friends, too. Maybe this was his chance? If he could get back up there now, he might be able to book it.

‘Why even try?’ the pilot’s seat spoke up again. ‘You’re only wasting your time.’

“My friends need help. I have to save them!” Neil spat, giving the piece of furniture a nasty look.

‘So, you’re playing hero now? How arrogant. Trying to save the day?’

“Fuck off, chair! You’re not even real.”

‘The point still stands,’ it retorted. ‘Plus, that’s never stopped you before! Remember month two, when the loneliness was really kicking in? You started talking to one of the cabinets. Called them Cubby.’

Neil rolled his eyes. “Stop.”

‘You used to open and shut the little door to make it speak.’ The chair seemed amused. ‘Quite pathetic, really.’

“Yeah, so what?” he said, crossing his arms. “That was different.”

‘Exactly,’ the chair remarked. ‘Something changed, huh? Back then, you decided the things that spoke to you. You had to make them talk back to you- but now, it happens without your control.’

“If you have a point, then get to it already,” the boy huffed.

‘You’ve gone crazy!’ The chair beamed. ‘It’s finally happened.’

Standing up, Neil tried to put as much distance between him and his inanimate foe as he could. It only amounted to a couple of feet. “No.”

‘Bonkers!’

“No!”

‘Looney!’

“Stop!”

‘Absolutely, positively, inexplicably, insane!’ the chair didn’t laugh, but it felt like it did.

“Liar!” Neil snapped, spinning around and gesturing his fist in the air. “I’m fine.”

The snide piece of décor did not give him a condescending look because it was, in fact, not alive. It, however, produced the same effect in his mind. ‘It makes sense, right? This is why you keep ending up alone.’

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

‘Look around!’ the chair cried. ‘Don’t you know what happens to crazy people? They put them away- somewhere in the dark and alone- so normal people don’t have to worry about them. Guess where you are now? That’s right! Alone… in the dark. It keeps happening to you, doesn’t it? You keep finding yourself in these places, over and over. How many times have you thought about escaping? Thousands? Millions? Well, tough luck, buddy! This is where you’re staying, forever! This is where insane people go!’

Neil’s eyes narrowed as he lowered his head. “You're only trying to antagonize me.”

‘Is it working?’

“Yep.” Turning around, he placed his weight on the wall of cords, letting his mind wander. “You’re wrong.”

‘Really? Are you sure?’ the voice seemed incredulous. ‘You are talking to a chair, you know?’

“No, I’m definitely, probably, crazy,” Neil corrected with a wave of his hand. “I’m talking about the part where you said I was going to stay down here forever. My friends are up there. They need help. Yeah, I’m not a hero. God knows I’m really not that. But I am all that they’ve got.” He turned to the chair, a look of determination in his sleepless eyes. “I have to go back up and find the cure.”

The chair tilted its head, but not actually, because it didn’t have one. ‘How noble of you! But what type of medal do you think you’ll get for having died and accomplished nothing?’

There was a tsk-tsk noise, but it came from somewhere in the wires. ‘You’ll get yourself killed,' it finished.

Neil shrugged his shoulders. “At this point, man, I have to do something!” Moving back to the chair, he examined all the controls on the armrests. Everything was in identical places to what he remembered from his Lavender. Still, this didn’t help him much, considering he didn’t know how either set of them worked.

‘What are you waiting for?’

“I don’t know how to get out,” he replied, his heart sinking. “None of this has ever made sense to me. How would I know which button to press to make you go back up?”

‘I can’t believe your stupidity. Actually, I think it’s kinda impressive.’

“What the hell are you talking about now?” Neil replied, his patience running thin.

‘You’ve never been down here, have you? Not even on your Lavender.’ There was a pause before the chair said, ‘do you get it?’

“For fucks sake, tell me already!” the boy shouted.

‘If there was a button to make me go back up,’ the chair explained slowly and condescendingly. ‘Then you would have never had the chance to activate it, since I’ve always been topside.’

“Oh? Oh!” Neil’s eyes went wide. “So, what you’re saying is—”

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,’ it blurted. ‘Go fucking nuts.’

Reaching down, his fingers went flying across the controls like a bat out of hell. He pushed down every button and tossed every switch- sometimes twice. After a while, the clicking of the inner springs started to sound like a song. The next thing he knew, he was pulling a cord near the very tip of the armrest, which abruptly sent the room shaking. Above him, the floor began to part and slide away. “Holy shit!” he cried. “I actually did it!”

As the platform began to rise, the chair said, ‘it’s pointless, you know? You’re never going to save them.’

“I have to try,” Neil spoke as the glass dome came into view. “I have to figure it out.”

With another shake, the pilot’s seat finally returned to the control room. The red flashing lights greeted the two with silent indifference. Neil looked around, bracing to see if one of his friends was waiting for him. But, it would seem, his luck hadn’t run out yet.

He made his way to the door, stumbling and catching himself as his feet struggled to keep up. “Think,” he said to himself. “There has to be a way… something I’m missing…”

‘Goodbye,’ called the chair from behind him. ‘I expect I won’t be seeing you again.’

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter, since you’re in my head and stuff,” he said, steadying himself. “Plus, I liked Cubby a lot better than you, anyway.”

With that, he pushed himself forward, leaving the silent chair behind.