Page 79 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Eryxxus

The corridors of the ship hummed with a strange rhythm—sudden and erratic, as if the pulse of the symbiotic AI of the mainframe was starting to quicken. The crew had grown uneasy, murmurs spreading like wildfire. The shadows in the hallways seemed darker than they should have been, and every once in a while, a flicker of movement would catch the corner of my eye.

A slow smile crept across my face. The time had come. I had played my part, let the madness of the crew take root in the chaos I’d sown, and now, the culmination of it all was beginning to show.

I had already taken three of them—two in their sleep and one in the mess hall—draining their lives away silently, with nothing but the sound of their final breath to mark their passing. I had been careful and meticulous. Each death had been necessary, each move calculated. The others would begin to notice soon, and when they did, it would be too late. But for now, there was another task I had to attend to.

The head of the crew on the east wing.

He was next. I had been watching him for days, waiting for the right moment. Commander Rathen. A proud male Uloth from Crilia 978, too sure of his position, too confident in his control over the ship’s operations. He thought he was untouchable, that nothing could shake his grip. But I knew better. He was as fragile as the rest.

I moved through the darkened hallways, my footsteps silent against the cold metal floors. The ship's hum was louder here, resonating in the walls as if it too were aware of the coming change. Rathen's quarters were just ahead. I knew he would be in his office, reviewing the latest security reports—he always did, alone, at this hour.

I reached the door without a sound, feeling the subtle thrum of his heartbeat through the walls. He was close. My hand hovered over the control panel, my fingers twitching in anticipation.

With a soft click, the door slid open. He was seated at his desk, bent over a stack of data logs, unaware of my presence. The room was dimly lit, the only source of illumination a faint greenish glow from the console screens. The shadows around him seemed to curl, stretching unnaturally toward me.

I stepped into the room, my presence barely noticeable—like a whisper in the dark. He didn’t hear me, didn’t sense the danger. He was too absorbed in his work, too arrogant to consider that anything could threaten him here. I took a step closer.

And then I was there, standing just behind him.

“Commander Rathen,” I said, my voice low and smooth.

He froze, his body stiffening with sudden tension. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as they locked onto me.

“What is this?” he demanded, pushing back from his desk. He wasn’t a coward, but even his bravado couldn’t hide the flicker of unease in his eyes.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” I said, stepping forward, closing the distance between us.

His eyes darted to the door, then to the concealed weapon on his desk, but I was faster. A flick of my wrist, and the weapon was gone, dissolved into the darkness before he even had a chance to react.

His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as I circled around him, taking in the way his muscles tensed, ready to spring into action. But there was nowhere to run.

“You’ve been a good soldier, Rathen,” I continued, my voice a purr. “A loyal servant to the ship and its captain. But you’re not as invincible as you think. Not anymore.”

He opened his mouth, no doubt to shout for help, but I was already there—my hand clamping down over his throat before the sound could leave his lips.

I leaned in close, my breath hot against his skin. “You should have seen it coming. You all should have.”

His eyes widened in terror as I tightened my grip, the life in his throat slipping away like water through cracked fingers. The struggle in his body became weaker, his movements more frantic, but futile. He had no inkling of what I truly was, no understanding of the force that now held him in its grasp.

In his final moments, his pupils dilated, the breath rattling in his chest as life drained from him. Impatient, my claws elongated, piercing through his flesh easily, ripping through the tendons of his neck as I pulled my arms apart, watching his head hang on by fragile shredded flesh. His body went limp, his weight sagging beneath my fingers like a discarded doll, and I watched as the light flickered and died in his eyes. Another one down.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty shell of the man who had once commanded fear. I could feel the power coursing through me—thrilling, intoxicating—but it was no longer enough.

The ship’s hum adjusted, its pulse suddenly erratic. I could feel it, the subtle change in the air as if the very walls were beginning to react to what was happening. The hum resonated through my bones, a vibration that mirrored the growing tremors of the crew. They would soon feel it too—the change. And they wouldn’t know what to do with it.

I felt the darkness within me stir, the power that had lain dormant beneath the surface of this fragile skin. I could hear the faint creak of my bones, a hollow, sickening sound as they began to shift, to splinter under the strain. The suit I had worn—this facade—began to split. The skin pulled tight, almost painfully, as my true form began to emerge, slipping free from the shackles of flesh.

A low growl escaped me as the transformation began. My form stretched and warped, tendrils of shadow coiling up from beneath my skin, wrapping around me, breaking through in jagged splinters. My hands elongated, fingers lengthening into talons that scraped against the metal floor with a sound that reverberated through the very hull of the ship.

The air grew colder, darker, as the shadows twisted and writhed around me like sentient creatures. The flesh suit I had worn for so long split apart with a sickening tear, torn away to reveal the true nature of my being. The remnants of my Gusqix skin disintegrated into ash, floating away in the stillness of the room as I stood tall, towering above the remains of Commander Rathen’s lifeless body.

The walls around me seemed to bend, the shadows stretching impossibly long, twisting into forms of their own as they crawled to my will. They were mine to command, to shape, to feed. The ship itself groaned under the weight of my presence, its systems faltering in response to the unnatural energy that radiated from me.

Stretching in my new form, the dark power hummed through me—a vast, infinite force that filled every inch of the room. The shadows obeyed my every thought, skittering along the walls, coiling through the air, pulling toward me like hungry predators.

The crew, the pitiful survivors, were unaware of the monster they had invited aboard. They had no idea of the hell they were about to endure. But that was fine. Let them live in their ignorance. Soon, the ship would belong to me—and I would burn through their ranks one by one until there was nothing left but ash and ruin.

I flexed my hands, sending a ripple of darkness cascading through the room. The shadows surged at my command, swirling in a chaotic dance of energy, as if they were alive, feeding off my power.

The game was no longer about subtlety. It was no longer about patience.

Now, it was about destruction. And I was just getting started.