Butterflies of the Dark Star

LOG 006

TERMINAL: ONLINE

USER: Intern Researcher TeI-MEa of the B.H Supernova Space Station.

DRONE: SCANNING. MESSAGES UNABLE TO BE RECEIVED.

MESSAGES:

(MESSAGES UNRECEIVED)

Nova

You say these things about me

But I'm a lie

I don't know what's wrong with me, I just want—to—be—

...

But if there's something you're going to take from this

It's that I trust you.

I trust you with my life

I know that might not mean much, considering I fail to tell you things I can—trust—you with.

But I lived my life like this

You wouldn't recognize me

I think I'm scared.

LOG:

I'm starting to lose count of my own logs. I can't be bothered to wonder why my terminal keeps getting my last name wrong. I might have to bring it up to... someone. I always break something or other. I always make a mess of things because I can't hold myself in place.

I've marked this as 006 — for my sake.

I've done this before.

At least, it feels like that. I must've done a log this morning, but I can't find it in the files. It wouldn't be the first time. Probably won't be the last.

Nova left.

I don't know where she went, or if she just needed a moment.

So I'm doing this in a shadowy corner like some sort of crazed scientist in those super old classic horror movies who create something so... so out of their reach, and the consequences that follow.

One moment, she was fine. I was just preparing for my presentation and then...

Stars, I have a migraine.

I thought maybe... you didn't have a nice start to the shift. It happens, but I've never seen you like that before.

I thought, and I thought, and maybe I think too much. Maybe my problem is there's a swirling inside my head that I can't shut up anymore than people can shut me up. I talk to relieve the pressure inside it. I move to the tune of white noise from my own head.

What with this lockdown and the several registered anomalies, I can't help but wonder what you meant when you said 'another hour'.

...

Another hour of what?

What are we waiting out?

Another... what?

...

Maybe I'm coming down with Space Sickness. Whatever you meant... I'm glad I could help. That's really all I can try.

My questions can wait. As much as I want them answered I...

...

I feel like my head is about to explode.

I'm missing something.

It's getting farther and farther away from me. If I don't grab it, I'm going to... lose something.

...

They're calling me to investigate strange behavioural occurrences in the western sector staff—

—DEJA VU.

It was on the tip of my tongue, and what's making my head feel enlarged.

I've... been having deja vu, but from what?

It doesn't help that wherever this music is coming from (the anomaly trying to communicate? I need to write that down somewhere.) won't stop playing in my head.

Stars.

I feel this gnawing dread, like somehow I've turned around and—

—created a M O N S T E R—

LOG END.