KYSIS

You know, in horror.

I don't understand it either, not one bit. But you've taken to it well. Most people would probably have reacted quite... Differently to waking up in a whole new body.

@axisbound.bsky.social

Now don't you look well? Such an... Interesting transformation.

Mm. Good work, Juno. How's our captain faring?

What the ____ is a worm girl

She puts the knife through back @axisbound.bsky.social. Like she slipped. She just steps forward, the blade sinks in, it doesn't even make a sound.

it's all too much, it has to stop, the SOUNDS have to stop the SCREAMING has to stop the NAGGING and the DRONING and the—

in the dark, all of her vanished in the blackness, turned to it, wrapped in it so tightly she can't breathe, she can only feel the hilt of the knife in her hand, cold and heavy and familiar, oh, so familiar now. she remembers the tower, she remembers them all for a fraction of a moment and then

won't stop. She has to make him stop. She has to make him stop so she can get back to work, so she can find a way to fix this, so she can find a way to cure this- this- this sickness permeating everything, like ink spilling out of a well and staining the whole world black, her hands coated, vanished

It's her husband, her stupid, useless husband in the kitchen going on and on about school and homework and meetings and neighbors as if she wasn't on the verge of a breakthrough as if the world would be here tomorrow.

“Shut UP, Eli!”

The kitchen knife is in her hand. He drones on and on. He just

What if this is still just part of it?

surrounds them, no light or sound or comprehension, just her in the darkness, her and her imagination. This again, then? again, again, oh, here we go again.

She was really screaming now.

She swallows her fear, and all the lights go out, space leaves them and it's just them, just the two of them, the monocled one, now her husband, his eyes black and gleaming, now her daughter, whose face is blurred like a smudge. Its hands on her shoulders. her hands stretched out into the abyss that

arms up, hands out, steady and defensive and calm; she spoke with authority, her voice never wavering.

“WAIT! we've come to help. whatever this is, we can work together, we can help you. what happened? were you the crew? what happened to you?”

but was it any scarier than absailing down to this level? than the cocoon upstairs, or the depths of space, or the vastness of the sand that natasha talked too much about. this expedition of theirs had been brimming with questions. now it looked like they might get some answers.

she took a step.

she isn't sure what she feels in that instant, disgust or some kind of protective instinct, affection perhaps? for a near-stranger looking to her for help. what could she do here, outnumbered and outmatched? not scared though. make no mistake, it *was* scary, she could feel her heart begin to race,

she hurries over to him, a little alarmed at his tone, and further still when she sees the doorknob. that doesn't belong here, she thinks, and it reminds her of a lot of other things that didn't belong, a lot of other places where things didn't belong. she couldn't grasp onto any of them, though.

very smooth.

( surprising grace indeed. that makes two of them, she moves like a younger woman, full of self confidence. maybe she *had* done this sort of thing before? )

if we can access the black box we can find out what happened here.

oh, loads.

( she rolls her eyes, wincing as she moves to follow him. )

the sense of unease, of vague, eerie hostility from all sides, but unseen, the mysteriously vanishing crew... it all feels familiar.

maybe i was a mystery writer?

a lot better if we do it without hesitation. at least it's a lethal drop if something goes wrong. i'd hate to die slowly.

you first.

right behind you.

not sure your girlfriend approves.

no signs of life or death. it's like the crew just up & disappeared.

i don't hear anything.

we could take the cocoon back to the sidrat for further analysis? but that could risk cross contamination if it *is* harmful somehow.

check the heat signature.

( she's there eerily quickly, stepping out of the shadows behind him. he should have heard her coming from a mile away in that spacesuit. how long had he been staring at it? )

has it moved at all?

be right there.

don't touch it.

loud and clear.

no signs of anything hostile on board, that's a plus. radiation is minimal. strong sense of deju vu.

bumpier than i recall...

no time for long-winded explanations, we'll talk as we work, & we'll work fast, yes?

terrific, thank you.

( she handles the gun like a scientist would; it's an instrument, a dangerous instrument. jasper checks the safety. )

i feel better already, don't you, natasha?