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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1463093-Full-Moon-Forever
by S
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #1463093
Monsters terrorize a space ship heading for the moon.
“I don’t believe it,” Rueters said. Her eyes were wide and wet and her velvet red lips quivered.

“Doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. Thing’s real and it’s on our ship,” Bishop said. His hand was pressed tightly around his waist to slow the bleeding. His demeanor was calm and cool. Rueters had no idea how he could be so casual given his wound and the situation.

“What do we do now?’ she asked. Her voice cracked.

“We need everybody to stay put. There’s no doubt that a few people heard the little scuffle before. I say we call for a quarantine. Say that there’s something very bad and very rational floating around the ship.”

“CP39. Say it’s CP39,” Grant suggested. “Every bedroom aboard is equipped with a filter that kills the germ in air.”

“All right,” Rueters said. She walked over to the ship’s com. Above the dash were the security camera’s feed. All of the ship’s halls were empty. Rueters drew a deep, long breath. Her finger grazed the com button.

“This is Lieutenant Rueters of the E.M.T. Lunestar. A quarantine is being issued, effective immediately.” The ship’s lights dimmed to a dull blue as its computer recognized Rueter’s voice. “A strand of CP39 has been exposed. Your rooms are fitted with the proper equipment to deal with the germ. Do not leave your rooms. We are expecting to land on Sector 3d of the Moon’s United Nations in approximately six hours. Thank you for your patience.”

Rueters nearly collapsed after finishing the announcement. The whole ship probably heard the fear in her voice, she thought. The passengers know something else is up. The announcement probably did more harm than good.

“Jesus Christ,” Bishop said, showing signs of pain for the first time.

“What the hell are you doing bleeding all over the bridge? Get yourself to med lab before you bleed to death,” Grant said.

“I want to keep an eye on the bastard,” Bishop said through his teeth.

He looked at the security camera feed that showed the ship’s kitchen. It sat in the freezer, locked up and cold. Clouds of steam poured out of its wet mouth as its sides deflated. Patches of dried blood clung to its fur. It took a bite out of a few ship mates. There were no casualties.

“You think we should just go in there with a few arms and blow the thing’s head off,” Grant suggested.

“You didn’t see how it moved. You open that door, you have one, maybe two men dead before a trigger’s pulled,” Bishop said.

“How about this,” Grant said, tapping on the security monitor. “We cut off the air vents to the room. Suffocate the monster.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Rueters said. “But how are we going to cut off the air? We can’t use a welder, and even if we do manage to block off the air, that thing still has about an hour’s worth of air in the freezer.”

“A slow death. It deserves it,” Bishop said.

“My question is how did that thing get onboard in the first place,” Grant said.

“Same way all the other passengers did,” Bishop said. “Through the boarding gates.”

Grant looked the beast over; its elongated arms and snout, its white eyes and pink belly. The beast’s hair grew in clumps around its body. “I sure as hell didn’t see anything like that board.”

There was movement on a security camera. Rueters sighed. “What the hell is she doing?” she said to herself.

A woman had exited her room and was running up the ship’s hallway. Her arms flailed over head, as if she were on fire, and she looked like she was screaming.
“What the-. Switch audio on on monitor seven,” Bishop said.

Rueters switched it on.

The bridge was filled with the crazed woman’s screams. She screamed as if she was being grounded up slowly, starting from the feet.

Within her screams came words. They were hardly audible.

“For the Children of Alunandra, Moonstress and Goddess of the Everliving. For the Great Father for providing his with the Milk of Change and the Seed of Savageness. We are His and Hers and we shall reclaim what was given to us on the eves of our new births.”

The crazed woman keeled over and rested her head against the ship’s cold metal floors. She was hyperventilating. A pair of ship hands ran to her aide. From one, “God damn, lady, are you okay?” From the other, “Come on, we’re taking you to med lab.”

What occurred next caused the bile in Rueter’s stomach to rise up to her mouth. Hands clamped over her lips, she swallowed it back down, feeling the acid burn her throat.

Bones protruded out of the crazed woman’s spine. They crackled as they shifted, sounding like dried twigs breaking. A look of excruciating pain formed on her face as her skull became elongated at the mouth. Her teeth grew two inches each, and the color left her eyes.

Rueter’s could no longer hold in her vomit and it spilled at her feet.

Patches of thick fur coated the crazed woman’s body. The two ship hands could not run. They were frozen in fear, watching the transformation with horror and fascination.

It leapt at them, biting deeply into one’s arm while knocking the other to the ground with its paw. Its teeth emerged from the flesh, red and wet, only to sink into the other man's thigh. The man screamed and tried to ward off the beast with punches, but it was too strong.

On the security monitors, the monster in the freezer sat in the fetal position, rocking back and forth. It’s elongated mouth was moving, its lips mouthing words. “For Her we do. For Him it is.” Over and over.

Grant punched down on the ship’s com button. “All hands to the armory, now!”
Bishop wrapped his hand around Grant’s neck and ripped him away from the computer. “What are you doing?” he screamed.

“Are you kidding me? We need that thing dead now!” Grant screamed.

“Every passenger heard the com message,” Rueters muttered. Her voice was weak. “Now they know that there’s something worst then germs on the ship. There's going to be chaos.”

“They don’t know anything,” Grant said. “And so what if they do. This isn’t a cover up mission any more. This is a search and destroy.”

“No,” Bishop said. Thick red blood poured down his fingers. He had the eyes of a possessed man, stern and cold. “We’re not killing that thing.”

“Give me one good reason that that thing should stay alive,” Grant said.

“You start firing your guns in here, we’re going to breach the ship,” Bishop said.

“Bull,” Grant said.

In the security monitor, the freezer monster had stood up on its hind paws with its forelegs extended out at its sides. It stared up at the ceiling with its dead white eyes. It looked like a mockery of Jesus on the crucifix.

Grant walked towards the bridge’s exit. He stopped midway and looked at Rueters. “You with me on this?”

Rueters couldn’t bring herself to decide.

“I swear I won’t let that thing hurt you,” Grant said.

“I… I’m so sorry,” she said. The fear nearly muted her.

Grant sighed, looked at Bishop one last time, and stormed out of the bridge.

“We can’t have him shooting the inside of the ship up,” Bishop said. “Order the men to stand down.”

“No,” she said. Her eyes danced from monitor to monitor, freezer monster to the two wounded men.

“Whatever that thing was, it didn’t mean to kill. See?” Bishop tapped the screen with the two wounded men. “It could have ripped them to shreds, but instead it just bit them and fled. It’s just scared.”

“I can’t have that thing running around the ship. What happens when we land on the moon?” Rueters said.

The security monitors showed groups of men, five to a team and each with a rifle, cautiously walking up the ship’s halls.

Bishop ignored Rueters’ comment and pressed down on the com button.

“All men stand down.”

Rueters wedged herself between Bishop and the computer. “Bishop!” she said fiercely. She hit the com button. “This is Rueters. Do not stand down. I repeat, do not stand down. All passengers, remain in your rooms until further notice.” The com clicked off. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not amused.”

“Neither am I,” Bishop said. The blood loss took the color from his face, but he carried on as if the gaping hole and chewed flesh on his side hadn’t happened.

Something about his demeanor changed. Rueters sensed it and it frightened her. It was as if Bishop was becoming broader and darker. His head tilted down. The dim blue lights bounced off his hair and cast terrible shadows against his pale flesh. He grinned. His upper teeth were coated in blood.

“…Bishop?”

His hand moved like lightening and the crack it made against Rueters’ face roared like thunder. His lips parted and a dry cackle escaped. Rueters scuffed back until her back was pressed against the wall. Her hand patted frantically for her gun. It was holstered. She tried to undue the holster’s strap.

Bishop was on her in seconds. He pinned her hands over her head. The breath poured out of his mouth. It stank of rot and infected wounds.

“What’s gotten into you?” Rueters’ faintly muttered.

Somewhere on the ship, a monster sniffed out its mate. She found his smell under pounds of frozen meat and spices. She was in the kitchen within moments, pounding away at the freezer door. On the other side of the door, her mate still stood on his hind paws, staring drearily up at the ceiling.

“We are close,” the monster in the freezer muttered. Had his snout been capable of it, he would have a big grin on his doggish face.

In the transition of a blink, Bishop’s blue irises vanished, leaving only red webby veins in his eye. Rueters could feel his hands against hers. They popped as bones shifted and molded.

Rueters screamed. It was the only thing she could do.

The gnarly wound on his side began to close up. Flesh overtook gore and patches of thick black fur overtook flesh. Unable to hold her hands up, as his fingers were slowly shriveling and shrinking, Rueters’ freed herself from his grasp and punched him on his jaw.

Bishop’s head moved from the blow, but he immediately recovered, smirking as if the punch was some sort of joke.

“You can’t hurt me,” he said. “Nothing can hurt me ever again.”

Rueters retrieved her pistol and pressed it against Bishop’s forehead. She pulled the trigger. The back of Bishop’s head exploded out and he fell backwards. Rueters looked down at the body.

She killed a man.

The feeling left her arms and the pistol fell out of her hand. She shook uncontrollably. She tried steadying herself by holding her trembling arms with her trembling hands.

Gun shots sounded in the distance. They died as down as quickly as they erupted.
The two wounded men stirred on the security camera. They were no longer laying down in pain. Both men supported themselves on all fours. They twitched violently, as if possessed. One threw up blood all over his hands and the ship’s cold metal floors. Rueters could hear him heaving through the monitor’s speakers. The other threw back his head. He dryly hissed, “We are from Alunandra and for Her we will reclaim our birthright.” His bones popped and his flesh darkened to a grey hue. Patches of dark brown fur grew out of each man’s skin as their faces elongated.

Shrill screams flooded the halls.

Rueters ran towards the door to the bridge, shut it closed and locked it.

Passengers were slowly beginning to leave their rooms. They were curious and upset. One by one, the security feed captured their heads looking up the halls, trying to make sense of the situation.

For a few moments, there were no sounds. No guns were fired, no screams were heard. Rueters stumbled towards the security monitors. The monster in the freezer was gone. The freezer’s door had been torn open.

An orchestra of howls filled the inside of the ship. In an instant, the main hall was filled with what looked like a large brown cloud. As the cloud slowly moved closer to the security camera, Rueters was able to make out the individual shapes within it.

There were about thirty of them. Their eyes were white as snow, their fur as brown and rich as a grizzly’s. Each had its teeth bared; some white, others drenched in blood.

As they slowly walked up the hall, they ripped open doors and pulled out the men, women and children from the room within. The mob of monsters overwhelmed the families, sinking their teeth into legs and arms while onlookers screamed and cried.

The monsters dropped the people they bit, and within moments the wounded people would begin to twitch. Their bones popped and their skin darkened. Thick fur grew out of their skin.

“For Alunandra!” the monsters screamed.

The closer the ship came to the moon, the more fiercer and stronger the monsters looked.

Rueters sent a distress message to the moon:

“They took over the ship. It’s only a matter of time before they get me. Arm yourselves.”

They were outside the bridge’s door, punching and clawing.

Rueters retrieved her pistol. Her hands were so numb that she barely felt the metal against her palm. She sat on the floor opposite the bridge’s door. The metal shrieked as a bloody claw pierced through it. A white eye appeared in the hole.

Rueters lifted her gun. It weighed a thousand pounds. She fired a round.

More claws pierced through the door. The smell of the monsters was horrendous. They smelt like rotting wet dogs. The excitement was too much for the monsters. They howled and barked frantically, trying to claw the door open as fast as they could.

They had the door open in five seconds.

The monsters rushed Rueters. She fired one last shot. It hit a monster in its leg with the force of a mosquito bite.

Their paws had her by each limb. Teeth sank into her flesh. She was so numb with fear, she could hardly feel a thing.

As quickly as they attacked, the monster stopped. They turned away from Rueters, uninterested, and walked out of the bridge.

A golden glowing woman appeared before Rueters. She wore a flowing gown and wolf pelts over each shoulder. Below each of her eyes was a paw shaped birthmark.

The woman had a war motherly smile on her face. She extended her hand towards Rueters.

“Welcome, my child,” the glowing woman said.

Rueters looked down at her left hand. Her hand shrank into a paw and grey fur sprouted out of her arms.

“For Alunandra,” she screamed.

The moon was so close.
© Copyright 2008 S (slombardi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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