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White walked out of Medbay, exhaling a shaky breath as the door slid closed behind them.
They supposed they understood Blue’s reasoning—they honestly hadn't expected them to say yes, but they had to at least try.
They didn't want to die, not really, no matter how much they forced themself to believe otherwise. But the thought of living—living with these… these awful thoughts, the weight of all of their past decisions, the pain of the deaths they had witnessed, the knowledge of the deaths that were sure to come soon.
Perhaps I should have taken Blue up on their offer of paranoia medication, White thought as they passed through Upper Engine, gripping their cup of water tightly. It would have at least quieted my thoughts for a little while.
They continued, walking past Reactor and Security. The door to the latter was shut, so they assumed that Purple had locked themself in to keep an eye on the security cameras. They kept their head held high, trying to display some sense of confidence in an attempt to hide their shaking hands and uneasy demeanor.
They passed no other crewmates as they walked through Lower Engine and into Electrical. They paused for a moment, examining the ground where Cyan—or rather, what remained of them—had lay just a few days prior. White could still picture their scattered remains, the blood splashed on the walls and covering almost the entirety of the floor. They remembered bringing a hand to their mouth, gagging as they turned their back to what was just one more body in the neverending pile.
Their hands began to shake once more, and they closed their eyes and took another deep breath in an attempt to calm their thoughts and prevent themself from hyperventilating.
They opened their eyes and looked into the cup of water in their hands. They saw their reflection staring back at them, wavy and blurry. They no longer saw the confident, perfect version of the person they believed themself to be at the beginning of this trip. Rather, they saw the broken version they had become: bags under their eyes, an expression that held all of their sorrow and hurt. Their shirt was wrinkled and unbuttoned. They had become a shell of their former self, and they had only been getting worse with each passing day.
They looked away, tears forming in their visor as they quickly downed the rest of their water. They stared at the electrical panel, examining it, trying to commit it to their memory. Anything to keep themself distracted.
They weren't sure how long they stood there, empty cup in their hands and visor tilted slightly downward. Their thoughts had finally stilled, though it brought them no relief. In fact, they didn't feel much of anything.
How long had it been? Minutes, hours, days? They didn't know anymore. It didn't matter. It was all pointless anyway. They were going to die upon this ship. They all were.
Before they knew it, a hand was laid on their shoulder and a familiar voice spoke from behind them.
“Hey, White… is everything alright?”
White didn't answer. They barely registered the voice.
“Oh, golly… uhm, White, can you hear me?”
The now-empty cup dropped from their hands as they turned toward the voice, coming face-to-face with who they would soon recognize as Green, but their visor was dark and they moved as though they weren't in control of their own body.
“Okay, uhh, are you able to take some deep breaths for me?”
White simply stood there for a little while, and Green patiently waited, hoping for some kind of response. After a moment, they were able to hear quiet, shaky breaths coming from the crewmate standing beside them.
“O-okay, good! You're doing really well. Do you think you could curl your fingers for me?”
Once again, they remained unmoving for several moments, but Green watched as their fingers hesitantly curled into their palm—once, twice, three times.
“That's good, White! I'm going to reach out and touch you, if that's alright.. So–so don't be scared or anything, okay?”
They gave White a moment to process their words before reaching out to grab their hands, holding them up in the air with the two’s fingers intertwined. “I'm here with you, White. You're okay.”
The two stood there, Green watching White hopefully as the latter seemed to slowly return to their senses. Once they seemed to be more aware of their surroundings, Green lowered and released their hands. “There we go. Do… do you know where you are?”
White shook their head, attempting to clear the remaining fog from their mind. “I–I’m in the electrical room. But, when did you get here?”
“A few minutes ago. I came in to do one of my tasks, and you were just… standing there.”
“I…” White looked down at their hands, then around the electrical room. “Sorry, I must have… zoned out for a moment. Stress and all.”
“I don't think so, White. Do these kinds of things happen a lot? I'm not trying to pry, but…” Green trailed off.
They stayed quiet for a moment, not wanting to answer, but…
What the heck? What else was there to lose?
“...Yeah. They do. Not often often, but… enough.”
Green nodded. “That happened to my sibling back home, too. Mainly when they were upset or worried.”
“I've never told anyone,” White admitted. “But now you know, so…”
“It's nothing to be ashamed of, honestly! But I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to.”
White spared the other a small grateful smile. “Thanks, Green. I appreciate it.”
“No problem! I don't mind, really!” They replied, shooting them a thumbs-up.
“I… don't really remember why I came in here, to be honest,” White said, turning to the door.
The door.
It was… locked.
“Huh, when did that happen?” They asked, turning back around, only to realize that Green was no longer there.
“Uh, Green? Where'd you go?”
They peaked their head past the circuit box, expecting to come face-to-face with their friend. Instead, they found only wires and walls.
“Green…” White drew out the other's name, a humorless chuckle escaping their lips. “You're really starting to scare me, buddy…”
They heard a low growl sound above them, and felt something wet and slimy drip onto their shoulder.
They slowly lifted their visor and let out a yelp as they saw Green on the ceiling, a large mass of bubbly salmon-colored tentacles trailing behind them, leaving some kind of liquid behind.
The creature dropped to the floor, and White pushed themself against the electrical box as it slowly approached. “Y’know,” it began in Green’s voice.
Why–why did it sound like them? It shouldn't sound like them, it's NOT them, that's—
“I heard your little conversation with Blue earlier,” they said, earning a quiet gasp from the other. It seemed to smile at them, a creepy, unnatural thing. “If I had feelings, I would be quite offended right now! You didn't want the honor of dying in your best friend’s arms?”
“You—” began White shakily. “You're not them. What did you do to them?”
“I considered killing you first, you know,” they replied, avoiding their question. “But they actually quite liked you. Sometimes, the host body’s emotions can make us feel certain things.”
“I–I thought you didn't have feelings..?” asked White, their hands pressed to the circuit box as they shuffled away from Not-Green, until they were facing the door.
“My, you humans are bad listeners,” it replied, following the terrified crewmate. “We don't. Your little friend Green, on the other hand, did. Quite strong ones, I must admit~”
They lifted one of their many tentacles to White's chin, the latter attempting to press themself further into the electrical box, to no avail. It left a trail of goo clinging to their chin and dripping onto their shirt.
“Blue really should have granted your wish, hmm?” it asked, releasing the crewmate.
White turned away, tears leaking from their visor. “If you're going to kill me, just… get it over with, will you?”
“Oh, where's the fun in that? Feeding off your fear is much more enjoyable.”
White was so focused on the creature’s words that they didn't realize that one of its tentacles had wrapped around their waist and begun to squeeze. It became harder to breathe as the tentacle grew tighter and tighter, working its way up their torso.
They lifted White off their feet and into the air, smiling once more at the strained gasps and pleas for help escaping their lips. After about a minute, when their vision filled with black spots and their surroundings became distant, the alien threw them into the wall with a deafening crash, and they slammed onto the floor with a loud gasp for air. They doubled over into a coughing fit, their entire torso filled with unbearable pain as bruises began to form.
“Aw, poor wittle White,” it cooed, lifting their chin so they were forced to stare into what used to be Green’s visor. “Mommy and Daddy aren't here to save you now, are they?”
“Please,” they pleaded.
“Now, since I'm so kind, I'll allow you to pick your own death! Would you prefer decapitation, asphyxiation, being stabbed through the visor, having your face skinned off, being sliced in half, or—my personal favorite—spontaneous combustion?”
“Is… ‘none of the above’ an option?” White asked hopefully, their voice strained.
The creature let out a boisterous laugh, showing off its rows of pointy teeth. “I can see why they liked you. You're a funny one, aren't you?”
Before White could scramble together an answer, they heard a loud, repetitive banging noise on the door.
“HEY! I HEARD A CRASH! IS EVERYTHING OKAY IN THERE?”
Purple. White recognized the voice instantly. They must have heard Green throw me into the wall.
“PURPLE!” White shouted back at the top of their lungs. “IT'S—”
They were cut off by a thick, slimy tentacle wrapping around their mouth and throat.
“WHITE?” Purple asked, shocked. “WHAT'S GOING ON?!"
White began to thrash against the tentacle, flailing wildly in an attempt to escape.
Please, they thought. Purple, please. I don't want to die, not like this.
They looked over at the mass of tentacles that was once their close friend, who now had a distinct frown on their ugly pink body.
“Looks like our time together has been cut short,” they said, pouting, before revealing their toothy grin once more. “Oh well! It was bound to happen eventually.”
White continued to scream, to no avail against the tentacle wrapped around them. They were able to taste the repulsive goo, but they didn't even care, too overcome by fear to be disgusted.
Please, they thought again. Please. Please. PLEASE.
“WHITE!” Purple shouted again. “TELL ME WHAT'S HAPPENING!”
“Green” wrapped even more of their tentacles around the remainder of White’s body, dragging them toward the back of Electrical. It spotted a group of exposed wires sticking out of an open panel in the corner of the room, and it got an idea.
“Well, it's your lucky day, White~” they said, smiling down at the other. “You'll get your wish after all. Your very own special death.”
White, out of the corner of their visor, spotted the wires and began to scream once again. They pushed their hands against the mass of tentacles, kicking their legs wildly in an attempt to escape. The alien only laughed and tightened their grip.
White could hear footsteps running into Storage and onto the right side of the ship.
Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT.
White wasn't leaving this ship alive. They had known that since the first death, of course, but now their fears had been confirmed.
“Aw, there goes your help,” it mocked them. “Poor little White is going to die all alone.”
They released their tentacles, plopping the crewmate onto the metal floor just inches from the wires. Before White even had time to be confused, two smaller, thinner tentacles wrapped around their left wrist. They guided their palm closer and closer, infuriatingly slow.
As soon as the tip of their fingers made contact with the exposed wires, they felt their palm clench closed, and they let out a pain-filled scream that echoed off the walls as pure agony washed over them.
They felt like they had been set on fire as the electricity spread through their veins, traveling from their hands to the rest of their body.
They weren't sure at what point their body collapsed to the ground, their muscles contracting and seizing as pain consumed their entire being.
Their hands, their face, their torso, their legs—it hurt, it hurt, IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT MAKE IT STOP PLEASE
Their chest rose and fell, shaky and unsteady as their heartbeat grew hurried and erratic. They were numb for a few moments—sweet relief—before the torment returned, somehow worse than before.
They felt their chest tighten as it became harder and harder to breathe. Each breath became shorter and more shallow.
They heard the vent open just beside them as they exhaled their final breath, their body growing numb as their heart beat one last time…