The Craving: Wraith Ship #1

Scene 9: Monsters

The laboratory went dark when the pod penetrated the rock. Sier only saw now through the eyes of his slowly dying servants. Guards one, nine, and seven had already been eviscerated. He felt their deaths. He huddled in a corner, Shaper nearby and watching the door. Waiting for it to open, for the beast to enter.

His own ears and the ears of his remaining servitors heard the noises coming from the storage room. The room where Vous hung. He heard grunts, snarls, wordless exchanges and the sounds of equipment being toyed with. The creature Vous had summoned was doing something to her. But what?

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Zoran's talons traced the curve of the face in the cables. In turn, the face smiled, closed its eyes in ecstasy, mouthed more words Zoran could not decipher. He felt his heart moved with pity for this feeble crumb of life.

He would murder the thing that had done this to her. No, not murder. Destroy. Obliterate. The memories of the face in the wall were still fresh. A twisted mockery of she who hung in mid-air. The creature that did this was a servant of the The Craving, knowing or no. It must be removed from history, its work forgotten.

The link was active. Shroud saw through Zoran's eyes, heard through his ears, reached out with his manipulators. He saw the plight of that which had sent the message. The face set in the spider's web of machinery showed hope.

"Its life support is minimal. It will die rapidly if it is removed from its support chassis," Shroud said in Zoran's head.

"She mustn't stay here," Zoran said.

"You know it to be female?"

"Yes. I smell her."

"How captivating. I will study your H'ro traits in more depth. I take it you wish to mate with her?"

Zoran found he could not answer. A part of him, the part of the smoke and the hotel, seemed to rebel at some kind of impropriety. And yet there was an instinct calling from deep within the flesh parts of him that he was not sure he could answer. A thorough scan of his own internal systems had shown he produced no genitalia. He was a construct.

But then again, so was she. No more than a mind, a face, trapped inside a prison without walls. With longing in her eyes.

Patchwork.

He looked around, scanning, letting his designator system flit from machine to machine, his senses rebelling at the slippery rotting carnage at his feet. He knew the unknown method of repair his body possessed, the ability to assimilate the foreign machinery that gripped his skull and guts.

He leaned close to her, sent a ripple of thought to Shroud, the beginnings of an idea. He felt Shroud's answer, the possession of his left arm and the pain of the first incisions. He motioned with his flesh arm to her, back to himself, beckoned her.

Saw her bite her lip in anticipation.

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Sier cowered in the corner, wanted to shut the eyes that could not be shut. He ordered the hatch of the storage room to seal and lock. If only it had the ability to vent its air to the vacuum, suffocate the horror within. But the things inside still lived.

Even through the walls, he could hear the sounds of that which he feared. Howls of pain in an alien voice.

No. Two voices.

The crazed mutant of a scientist felt his heart threaten to freeze within him. He suspected, he knew. He should have killed Vous, reduced her to medical waste before the thing from outside got in. His own hubris had given her an opportunity. But how could he have known that she and her savior had this abominable act in mind? How could he have foreseen that his own brilliance would fashion his very nemesis? He ordered his remaining guard units to form a gauntlet between storage and the primary lab, directed Shaper to guard the lab entrance, give its life that he might live.