Nobody's Servant 1.0

Day Zero [vore]

Don't look at me like that.

I freely admit now that there may have been a few things I failed to mention to you. And yes, among those things might have been an unpredictable, murderous, cannibalistic fugue state.

Or the fact that, after the death which necessitated my aberration, I came back from the brink with the ability to necroharmonize. That's kind of significant too, to a lesser degree.

You'll get your clarification in time, believe me, but right now, my mind is preoccupied with getting as far away from all this as possible.

Red sparks rise from my palms as I run them over the black stains down the front of my coat and through my fur, steaming any remaining ectoplasm out. I really didn't get much energy back from this little exchange but it's enough to keep appearances before depleting again, at least.

Minus the slashes in my clothes, I look no worse for wear as far as I can tell.

As for the body, that's a different story as you're well aware. My stomach for dealing with it has gone just as quickly as my senses have returned, so I apprehensively try to grab an ankle in the least offensive way possible, but all my premeditation proves moot anyway. Much of the torso doesn't follow, its sludgy constitution stretching into ropes of thick fluid. I gag a bit as I stagger back, shaking the bad vibes out of my hands, desperately trying to keep it all down. I know I'm full of that stuff and if I have to visually come to grips with that, I'd probably have to spare you the details of how bad it would get from there.

Ejecting the excess of blackened saliva from my mouth, I quickly upright myself and leave the remains behind. I've got no easy way to move them so I'd better benefit from moving right along.

It's strangely quiet throughout the ship, or at least what I can hear of it. I wonder how long I was like that for. I inspect nearby crevices and hiding spots as I pass by, including the now wide-open supply closet that Nym had hidden in. My movement halts for a moment as I realize I find no relief in that. Why am I compelled to check so thoroughly? In case anybody saw me? What would I do in that case?

More bad vibes to shake off. I turn back for a moment, grabbing my cast-aside weapon from the place I had tried hiding in, and then I step through the doorframe into the rampwell. Ascending the spiral, I peer around the corner out into the next hall; seriously, why is it so quiet?

Not that there's anyone left in the immediate vicinity to make a sound. A few bodies lay gracelessly about the area, a couple of which I even recognize from brief encounters in passing. I try to keep my eyes averted as I carefully pad my way through. If I think about it too hard it'll get to me.

Even the slightest creak of the structure around me causes me to jolt; on my own I feel so exposed. I'm sure these passageways are tight for somebody, but for one of my size, there's little security to be found. It's an oddly specific phobia but I've never, ever liked large, enclosed spaces. Think empty cinemas or a warehouse after hours. I don't really know where I developed it, but it's coming into play very heavily here. As hard as it is to admit to myself, I might have preferred my earlier arrangement with Yhana to this.

Gods, was that today? Was it only hours ago that I was trying to persuade my way onto a ship that barely exists anymore? Too much has happened in that time. I don't know how much more I can take.

All at once, I snap out of my spiral of anxiety, brandishing my weapon out toward the first other sign of movement I've seen, down the intersection to my left. He's got his weapon trained on me as well, but he's got the advantage between the two of us, with the much, much longer reach a rifle affords. Lucky for me, we recognize each other.

Sal lowers the barrel with a relieved sigh conveyed through the sinking of his shoulders, before waving me over. Checking my surroundings, I start to slink toward him, but that's just met with more urgent waving and I break into... not quite a sprint, more of an expedient trot. I can't shake the fear of making noise.