It hurt so much that it’s all she can think about as she slumps against the shut door and tries to get her shallow breathing under control. When she touched that clawed, alien hand, she felt a suffering so profound that she thought her head was going to explode. It was a pain that cried out into an empty void, that begged for release and found none.
She’s in Maggie’s arms. Her friend is stroking her hair, comforting her as if she were a small child. “Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay. He was a monster. He’s not worth your tears.”
With a raspy inhale, she looks up at Ghost. Her left eye is bloodshot, a spider’s web of broken capillaries. Her trickle of a nosebleed turns into a bloody smear as she runs her gloved hand across it ineffectually. “Ghost? Are you okay?” Gods, he’s shaking as much as she is. She’s tempted to reach out and pull him into a makeshift hug, to comfort him — to comfort herself — but thinks better of it.
There’s been more than enough grabbing today.
The sound of those awful hands scratching at the door propels her forward, further into the sickbay. Even in the dim emergency lights, she can see what a mess it is. Overturned gurneys, lab equipment broken on the floor… what the frak happened here?
One panel remains functional among the wreckage. It glows a soft orange and contains three syringes. There’s some writing above it, too, and she squints to make it out. “Do you think you can open this?” she asks Ghost as she shuffles towards it carefully. The floor is so slick for some reason. “It looks like it needs a keycard, but I don’t know how we’ll find it under all this…”
The orange light reveals the room’s last terrible secret. Nearly every surface is covered in eyes. Hundreds of them growing out of a black slime and staring vacantly at nothing.
Adia steps back reflexively and feels her heel land on something soft and squishy. It gives way with an audible pop and she has to press a hand to her mouth to keep from gagging. “H-how…?”
content warning: minor eye squick
It hurt so much that it’s all she can think about as she slumps against the shut door and tries to get her shallow breathing under control. When she touched that clawed, alien hand, she felt a suffering so profound that she thought her head was going to explode. It was a pain that cried out into an empty void, that begged for release and found none.
She’s in Maggie’s arms. Her friend is stroking her hair, comforting her as if she were a small child. “Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay. He was a monster. He’s not worth your tears.”
With a raspy inhale, she looks up at Ghost. Her left eye is bloodshot, a spider’s web of broken capillaries. Her trickle of a nosebleed turns into a bloody smear as she runs her gloved hand across it ineffectually. “Ghost? Are you okay?” Gods, he’s shaking as much as she is. She’s tempted to reach out and pull him into a makeshift hug, to comfort him — to comfort herself — but thinks better of it.
There’s been more than enough grabbing today.
The sound of those awful hands scratching at the door propels her forward, further into the sickbay. Even in the dim emergency lights, she can see what a mess it is. Overturned gurneys, lab equipment broken on the floor… what the frak happened here?
One panel remains functional among the wreckage. It glows a soft orange and contains three syringes. There’s some writing above it, too, and she squints to make it out. “Do you think you can open this?” she asks Ghost as she shuffles towards it carefully. The floor is so slick for some reason. “It looks like it needs a keycard, but I don’t know how we’ll find it under all this…”
The orange light reveals the room’s last terrible secret. Nearly every surface is covered in eyes. Hundreds of them growing out of a black slime and staring vacantly at nothing.
Adia steps back reflexively and feels her heel land on something soft and squishy. It gives way with an audible pop and she has to press a hand to her mouth to keep from gagging. “H-how…?”