The metal panels were surprisingly soft on my cheek. The ship was covered in rust, blood, or some mixture of the two. Nasty. Nasty, nasty, hellishly nasty. It wasn't safe there, though it never really is. Never safe. I pushed myself from the metal bulkhead, and started running, motion erratic, loping legs sprinting down blood-soaked panels. Although nowhere was safe, they were everywhere.
Monsters. Big ones. Ugly ones. They were everywhere and nowhere all at once. The bastards were freakin' everywhere. I have come to the expectation that I couldn't go anywhere without accidentally running into one. Five years on a ship will do that. Cold hulls, endless space, and thousands of nightmares prepared to eat your face. My fingers had become accustomed to the feel of a gun in my grip, my eyes used to the affluence skills with a bandsaw had afforded me. The crewmates were all dead. I was the only one left, but none of the monsters had me. Me, left just me. I collapsed, and the metal panels were surprisingly soft on my cheek.
Past the point of rest, though. I got up, panting. The monsters were behind me, as usual. I ran down the aft deck, gasping. My breath hurt. Hard, angry pains with every breath. I tripped, and the metal panels were surprisingly soft on my cheek. I scrambled to my feet. The medical deck nearby had been my favorite hang-out before the accident. The "accident." Military training avoided nasty words. Not "people," but "hostiles." Enemies. We don't kill, we "neutralize." Accident nothing, this was hell unleashed. My hands slammed into the soft metal door. The eye scans, lasers, "security features" had long stopped working. I pulled my cheek from the soft metal panel, and pried the door open. It was safe in here. Safe. Well-lit. Soft. Comforting. Safe.
We heard them growling and scratching at the vents at first. The monsters. Scratching against our air ducts, claws and talons raking the soft, ever-smooth metal all around us on the ship. Even a battle cruiser of this size was large enough for a sizable crew. Dead. Long dead now. Revealed, the monsters were, but it came at the cost of our deaths. I was the last one left. The only one. Curled up on the floor now. Know everyone. Knew everyone. The metal panels were surprisingly soft on my cheek. They would be getting me in here soon.
Ships of this size always had small crews, so I knew everyone. Everyone. Dead now. Killed. "Neutralized." I never signed up for this. This. Understandably, no one ever signs up for this. These. "Accidents." Catastrophes. Anything, really. We just want money, or power. We're all responsible for what happens to us. This happened to me. Unfair, sure, but I could handle it. My life would end at the hands of these monsters, pitiful end to a stellar life, I guess. They would eat me. I could hear them through the paneled doorway. Med-bay has no weapons. I was responsible for this. No weapons. I should've brought a weapon. No weapons. Why were there never any weapons? It got quiet for a moment, is it possible? The monsters must have left. No one was outside. I opened the panel, and the hallway was free of anything. Except for a surprising amount of blood. I left the med-bay, looking around. Here? There? Where? I know the monsters hadn't gone. They never go. Full interest in gutting humans. That's what I had discovered living the longest. Gutting humans. Killing. "Neutralizing." I wondered how long 'til they neutralize me. Kill me. Until I die. I retched, mixing my bile with the blood on the panels. The metal panels were surprisingly soft on my cheek. Gasping for some relief, I got up, and had to hurry. They had to have heard me. Kill me. Neutralize me... The hallways weren't safe. Least safe, least safe place on the ship. That's where everyone else died. Everyone. Dead. Dead. They're all dead. I didn't want to be dead. No dying. Yesterday, you were alive. They were. Now they're all dead. Everyone I knew was dead. Killed. Neutralized...
Safety. Med-bay had it, for a time. I should go back there. But there are no weapons there. Weapons there. I needed weapons. Bandsaw to orange faces? Monster face squishes easy. Chitin squishes very easy once it breaks. I had to get weapons to the med-bay. Safe. Med-bay. Fortunately, I knew where the engineers' cabins were. Safety in weapons. Safe in med-bay. I found some tools, tools for fixing, fixing problems. Tools fix monsters. Monsters are problems. I'd fix them. Found a bandsaw.
Orange faces greeted me, and I panicked. Blades were better for monsters. Soft, squishy faces. I swung the scalpel around in my hands, nasty cuts along the orange faces. But they cut into my arm. Felt the tip of a talon. They got me. I ran toward the med-bay.
Mastery of the bandsaw was all that saved me. I threw myself away, and got away. I dove into the med-bay, closing the door. Could still hear yelping, the nasty rasping of their breath. The metal panels were surprisingly cool on my cheek. I gasped harder for breath.
Cheek. Cool. Cheek. The monsters were on my cheek now. Squeezing, touching. I could see their orange faces. Nurses had called them healthy. "Masks." She had said. Their fingers and faces were orange. "Doctors." She had said. Monsters. They were still monsters to me. Evil, evil monsters. My parents had called it a "mental health facility." For my own good. Monsters. Orange gloves, orange faces. Monsters. They're evil, evil monsters. The syringe had been filled with my medicine. Or so they called it. I knew better. Someone would be in to clean my retch, keep my padded room safe. The padding was soft. In my room. On my ship. The metal panels were surprisingly soft on my cheek.
