Something Dark

Posted on Fri Oct 11th, 2024 @ 8:37am by 1st Lieutenant Torian Vale

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Enroute to USS Elysium from Starbase 115
1125 words - 2.3 OF Standard Post Measure

Torian Vale sat in his seat aboard the passenger transport shuttle, the gentle hum of the engines seducing the passengers into a comfortable quiet. Some even into a comfortable slumber. The lights being only at 30% illumination certainly set the mood.

He had been enroute from Starbase 115 to the USS Elysium for hours now, his datapad open in front of him as he skimmed through a series of staff reports. The content was dry, a combination of protocols and personnel profiles he was expected to familiarize himself with before reporting for duty on the Elysium. Yet, despite the weight of the data, he found his focus drifting.

The words on the screen blurred together after a while, and Torian rubbed his eyes, glancing out the small window next to him. The stars streaked past like glittering ribbons in the endless void, their eternal silence a stark contrast to the hum of human activity on the shuttle. He leaned back in his seat, feeling the steady pulse of the engines beneath him. His muscles were tight, his mind buzzing with anticipation and a strange unease.

He felt a sudden, pressing need to stretch his legs and, more urgently, to find the restroom. The coffee he’d sipped earlier seemed to be working its way through him faster than expected. Sighing, Torian stood, slipping the datapad into his seat pocket. He made his way down the narrow aisle. Passing the subtle vibrations of the shuttle’s motion thrumming beneath his boots as he moved toward the rear of the transport where the restroom was stationed.

The restroom door slid open with a hiss, and he stepped inside, the overhead lights flickered momentarily before stabilizing into a steady glow. Torian splashed his face with cold water from the small sink, letting it cool his skin and chase away the growing fatigue. His reflection stared back at him from the small mirror, blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion but sharp as ever. He dried his face, but as he stood there, something…shifted.

The lights above flickered again, this time more violently, casting erratic shadows across the small room. The hum of the engines seemed to grow louder, more insistent, almost like a growl vibrating through the walls. Torian frowned, his hand reached instinctively for the wall as the sensation of motion beneath him began to tilt unnaturally, as if the entire shuttle was turning, spiraling.

Then, suddenly, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoed through the walls—a deep, visceral screech that reverberated in his bones. The bathroom door slid open of its own accord, and as Torian turned toward it, the corridor beyond was no longer the interior of the shuttle.

Instead, it stretched impossibly long, the walls bending and warping in ways that defied reason. The light overhead cast shifting, sickly yellow hues that danced along the walls, flickering in time with the growing thrum of the engines, which had now become a pounding rhythm in his ears. The once-solid walls of the shuttle seemed to breathe, pulsing in and out like the lungs of some monstrous, unseen beast.

Torian stepped into this hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. His boots echoed unnaturally loud against the metal floor, but the sound was off, warped, as if the echoes stretched out too long, reverberating in strange ways. His steps felt heavy, his vision swimming slightly as if he were walking underwater.

The corridor seemed to shift beneath him, spiraling in ways that made him feel disoriented, like he was trapped in some surreal nightmare. The walls warped and twisted, bending in on themselves like liquid metal, and the overhead lights flickered in rapid succession, plunging him into moments of complete darkness, only to flicker back on in jagged, unnatural bursts.

As he reached the end of the corridor, a door materialized in front of him—black, featureless, and ominous. The handle gleamed in the faint light, beckoning him to open it, though every instinct screamed at him to turn back.

He reached for the door. His fingers wrapped around the cold, metallic handle, and as he pulled it open, the overwhelming smell of damp earth and decay hit him. Beyond the door was not the shuttle, not Starbase 115, and certainly not the Elysium, but a sprawling, endless landscape of twisted trees and blackened earth. The sky above was a swirling mass of purples and greens, clouds roiling as if caught in a violent storm. Jagged mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks sharp and menacing.

The ground beneath his feet shifted, a strange, pulsing sensation that sent tremors up his legs. The air was thick, suffocating, and somewhere in the distance, a low, guttural growl echoed, reverberating through the distorted world.

He turned, ready to slam the door shut, but it was gone. The shuttle, the hallway—it had all vanished. He stood in the midst of this warped, nightmarish landscape, his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing shallow and ragged.

Suddenly, a figure appeared on the horizon. At first, it was nothing more than a shadow, barely distinguishable from the twisted trees around it, but as it grew closer, Torian could make out its shape—tall, humanoid, but wrong. Its limbs were too long, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its face was hidden beneath a dark green hood, but he could feel its gaze, cold and predatory, boring into him from across the distance.

The growl grew louder, more insistent, and when he dared to look at the figure, it was closer, its twisted form reaching out toward him with impossibly long, scaly fingers.

The ground beneath him gave way, and Torian fell, tumbling into the dark void below, the world around him spinning, collapsing in on itself. His vision blurred, his mind grasping for something—anything—to hold onto, but there was nothing but darkness, nothing but the endless, suffocating black.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Torian jerked awake, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest. He was still in his seat, realizing he never got up.

It was just a dream.

This time, he did get up and almost ran to the rest room. Torian splashed water on his face, letting the cold shock him back to full consciousness. His heart still raced, but the nightmare’s grip was loosening. The shuttle continued its smooth journey through the stars, the real world reasserted itself.

Torian took one last look at his reflection, then turned and exited the restroom. Everything in the cabin was normal. But as he made his way back to his seat, he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that something had followed him from that dream.

Something dark.