No way this is going to work.
“Now!” I shout, straining with all my might. My face flushes and my back trembles with effort, but something’s not right. We haven’t even budged him! “He weighs a ton,” I gasp through labored breaths.
Carmen grunts, heaving with jerky, pulling efforts, as she spits a stream of Spanish curses. “More than a ton!” she retorts, also struggling for breath.
I straighten, stretching my aching back and grimacing in disgust. “Eww,” I mutter, noticing my hands and arms are covered in a horrible array of blood and gory bits of flesh or meat or whatever disgusting insides these aliens have. Scrubbing only makes it worse, leaving gross stains, further ruining my Chanel suit.
Wonderful!
“Why do I even bother?”
I’ll definitely need a shower after this. If this hobo spaceship even has one, assuming it’s not a rag on a stick.
Not only have we failed to lift the titanic perv, but we haven’t even budged him. Not one iota. It’s like he’s become one with the metal floor.
“Screw this,” I announce, giving up the pointless effort.
“Any more ideas,genio?” Carmen asks, frowning. I’m not sure what ‘genio’means, but knowing her, I’m sure it isn’t anything complementary. But what the hell do we do now?
I notice one of my boobs is almost exposed, spilling from the front of my Chanel suit, and the cold air is raising goosebumps on my exposed thighs and lower backside.Dracoth’s pervy doing. Maybe Carmen’s right. Maybe we should shoot him and run.
The bitter notion passes. Saving Dracoth is the smart play. He did save us after all... right?
“We need to get help. But I can’t see anything down these corridors.” I say, with a hand over my eyes, straining to pierce the darkness that seems to stretch on forever.
“Sí, I still have this,” Carmen declares, withdrawing Kazumi’s mobile. She activates the flashlight mode, the shocking contrast with the darkness blinding me. “Wait here,Princesa,” she commands, dashing down the gore-riddled corridor, rudely not waiting for my reply.
The cheek!
I watch her leave, taking the precious light with her, trepidation gnawing at me, being left alone in this scary dark ship.Fuck, I never thought I’d miss Carmen, of all people.She’s like a stinky old sock with holes I can’t shake off.
“Not like I can go anywhere!” I yell after the retreating woman.
An eerie silence settles as her footsteps fade into the distance, leaving only the wind tunnel-like breathing of Dracoth. Oddly soothing, even if the big idiot chose now of all times for a nap.At least he’s still alive.
My heart races. Every creak of metal, every slightest sound, sends my nerves into high alert. Wild thoughts of more aliens arriving to drag me away send my pulse soaring. If I wasn’t dressed like a bargain-bin sex worker, maybe I could hide among the dead? God, I really need new clothes, new everything.
Glancing at the surrounding gruesome gore sends a shudder through me, dispelling the morbid idea. With nothing better to do, I explore a little further down the corridor, making sure not to leave the dim azure glow of the alien wrist devices far behind. I’m rewarded for my efforts, finding a large rectangular window.
I rush over, excitement driving me forward. The expanse of space looms large and dark, stars shimmering like diamonds against the velvety darkness, and swirling red and blue nebulas undulate, glowing in the distance with ethereal beauty. I was never one of those nerdy types that liked space or those boring sci-fi shows or whatever, but I can’t deny—this is breathtaking.
Our ship, surprisingly, isn’t a filthy white trailer but more of a filthy flattened black metal garbage can. I spot numerous smaller vessels swarming like insects. They appear small—at least compared to this ship. Maybe Dracoth isn’t so poor after all? An intriguing and exciting thought. These other ships are of various designs: some blocky black metal, others sleek, gleaming in white, and some are just bizarre, resembling bloated insects, puke-green with tendrils and serrated appendages, fluttering in space.
Gross.
Some of the smaller ships appear latched onto ours, like horrible ticks clamping onto our skin, seeking our blood.
Movement catches my attention. One of the ships—a gross green one—maneuvers, like a massive languid whale, banking to its right, away from our vessel. Strange green wavelike pulses ripple from numerous small orifices dotted along its bloated length.
Our ship shudders suddenly, shaking the ground beneath my feet, followed by a deafening thud. Before I can even react, two dazzling bolts streak forward, cutting through the void like the cresting waves of a brilliant azure sea against the stark blackness.
I gasp as the bolts crash into the gross alien ship. Pale green barriers flash for an instant before succumbing to the blue blazing star-like orbs. Now, unimpeded, the bolts crash into its hull with devastating force.
“Holy crap!” I exclaim, watching in awe as the entire side of the alien ship melts off in liquefied streams of blue-green material, streaming off into space like twisted, candied tendrils before solidifying into floating debris.
It’s shocking and mesmerizing, but eerily silent. Not a single tone—just Dracoth’s wind tunnel-like breathing and my hushed gasps. It feels wrong, almost unnatural, for something so large and awe-inspiring to lack sound.
Cascading explosions ripple throughout the gross alien ship, bathing the horrible thing in flickering green flames, which are quickly extinguished in the vacuum of space. The vessel breaks apart—at least the parts that survived being turned into molten blue-green goo.
