crypt1da

[crypt1da]

"I don't feel...like myself," you muttered, holding your head in one hand as your gripped your tea in the other.

"I think you are just experiencing isolation," your coworker said before lifting the coffee to their lips, taking a careful sip.

"You think?" You mumbled, rubbing your itchy temple as you closed your eyes, giving up on trying to fight the white light of the cafe.

"Oh yeah, many astronauts experience that; you know, I did. On my first expedition, you see I–"

You tried to listen, really, you did, but your brain couldn't keep up with the influx of information they tried imparting on you.

As of late, you felt your energy had been dwindling. You just didn't feel motivated to do anything, you felt hollow and empty like a sad walnut shell. You kept forgetting things; for one instance, your coworker prevented you from slicing your own tongue by stopping your hand that you thought was a fork delivering meat into your mouth. It was a knife.

You wanted to try and "fix it" by trying to talk to one of your colleagues, but you received your answer when your coworker was rambling about their own first mission.

"That's great," you murmured before you stood up, slipping away from them as they looked dumbfounded by your sudden leave. You felt slightly guilty for leaving so soon, but you decided that, maybe your issues couldn't be bothered at the moment.

You walked across the sterile white walls that smelled like bleach and cabinets underneath a dishwasher sink. The light was too harsh as you shut your eyes again and pinched the hot spot on the bridge of your nose.

Your eyes wandered over to the window just to your right. The abyss was star-less, not a twinkle in sight, like the mouth of a cave.

The entire universe was filled to the brim with stars and planets, but this part of this empty space was like staring into an empty house at night. It was dreadful to be here and you regret it.

You thought it be nice and exciting to be here, on the stage of stars.

But it was defeaning.

Silencing.

Cold.

Staring into the abyss as it stared back at you; waiting for a moment you leave the iron walls of your spaceship.

You stopped in front of your door, your hand limping itself up to press the rhythmic code to your room. It slid open.

You remembered just flopping on top of the hard bed you grown used to now. Rubbing your eyes again as you tried to turn on a television to get your mind off things again.

But your eyes soon closed in on itself, submitting you to sleep.

You woke up again.

Your eyes glazed over to the wall clock.

3:35 am

Of course, it's always been like this.

You sat up, wrapping your blanket around you. Trying to remember what happened in your dream. But every time, the seconds of wake abandon you without memory.

You rummage through your drawers, trying to find—yes, your journal. You opened it, turning a dozen pages, passing through each page that were written with optimistic proses initially. Finding a blank slate, your hand smoothing over a slight wrinkle of the cream colored page as you held the ink pen in your hand.

You began to write.

Phrases.

Phrases like: yellow, unicorn, snake, sun, smoke, cloud, blue, tech, moon, bomb.

Just anything to try and pry even a fraction of memory of your last dream. You didn't believe in those things, the thing being that dreams had "meaning", but as of late, if you were to read your latest pages again one would notice a trend.

You kept seeing strange things in your dreams.

You'll find yourself back at home, sitting on a chair at a candlelight dinner waiting for whom...?

Your eyes would see the suitor in front of you sit down and there, the suitor would have the head of marine being, or a creature you presume. Their head had many withering, thin strings...flurry out of their neck as if it were twirling ribbons from out of a dance performance. Despite its uneasy look, it was also pretty and lit with tiny lights that glowed admit the darkness.

You had found yourself enjoying the company of this strange being.

You stopped writing.

You stopped writing phrases when you realised you drew a picture instead.

The picture of the being was not a man.

[crypt1da]

Part 1 Part 2

Your eyes had been blinded by the glaring light in your retinas. You attempted to turn and twist, but your body stayed firmly in place in the leathery arms. Then, you felt yourself being put down into a small pool of shallow, lukewarm water.

The light fading away and for once allowing your eyes to open up.

Your eyes finding that you were hidden in darkness with multiple oculus holes plastered throughout the dome shaped structure. Sunlight filtered in yet never hit your face.

Sitting up, your clothes drenched in water and you felt a presence linger behind you as if expectant. And when you turned, you see him there, levitating above the ground. He would've blended into the darkness if not for his red eyes that sparkled like precious rubies.

Instinctively you scrambled from your place and far from him; your eyes quickly found a hole large enough for your size to pass through. Picking up your bare feet that slapped against the cool and polished floor to the hole. The outside misty and thickly gray as if a blanket shielded you; nothing could be seen beyond it.

But once your bare soles escape the smooth ground of the spotted dome, your feet didn't hit ground.

Your limbs flailed against the mist that turned red every slice you took out of it. You began to descend through the air and through the red mist you left behind. Escaping clouds you found yourself high in the air peircing through the sky. The wind cutting your healed wounds once more, opening them up as the salt rose from the waters below you and into your blood. The bioluminescent ocean harboring its jagged points against you.

You would've fell into the ocean if not for the slick tendril that shot you back inside the structure like a slingshot. He, shoving you back onto the shallow pool inside your cage.

You rose your face up to only gaze at him with fear once you made contact with his red eyes. If only you knew.

It's only been a few weeks. Or months? Or years. Possibly. It felt like days. You wouldn't know the differences even if you could calculated the amount of time you've spent here. You only knew that you've been here long enough to become aware of the fact that mission control had abandoned you. They probably declare you as dead or missing, gone to the mystery of space for what? Duty, they'll claim. And you had yet to make your peace with it.

Other than the existential dread you were facing, it was also boring up in the clouds. Sometimes when the mist cleared up, you would witness the sun's light shine into the holes of the dome architecture, other times you'll only see the many moons of the planet occupy each direction you look.

But, being the bachelor he was, he would try proving himself to you.

His gifts would often consist of pretty things; sometimes it was pretty jewels that illuminated every time your voice spoke into it, sometimes it was sparkly dust that showered the entire dome like a glittery snowstorm, sometimes it was a long stem of black grass pouring out glowing goo. You just kept them far away from you in a corner tucked away.

Though your actions encouraged the alien to bring you more and more items into your arms. But the items you kept, kept piling up, until the entire trypophobic dome was filled to the brim of these items that sometimes you'll see a stranger's tendrils try to steal the gifts for themselves when he wasn't around.

As you've come to survive inside the dome, he began to try and touch you. But you always recoiled away from him, never allowing him to touch your skin with his leathery tendrils. And try as he might, he continued every day, attempting to coax a reaction from you. Every single stroke or poke cautious and soft.

But no matter what, you refused them.

He would look at you offended each time. He didn't understand your opposition. You were a fragile and a clearly helpless mate, in need of a strong mate to protect and provide you. So he resorted to one solution.

On one particularly lonely night; as you reluctantly sleep against the curved walls. You dream.

You dream yourself at home, safe as if you never volunteered for your space mission. You sit in front of the television screen, watching your favorite show curled in a blanket with a warm beverage. The smell of home smelled exactly like childhood and nostalgia, the smell of warm and fuzziness.

You hear the front foor crack open and there revealed a handsome man who sat down besides you. He exuded a calm and casual demeanor with you like you both were friends who wanted to reconcile after years of distance. Just ignore his red eyes and tendrils that appeared out of nowhere.

He was very kind, listening to your every word, a great listener who didn't speak a peep nor vowel. Watching and hearing you rant about the things you loved and hated.

When night came to fall, he tucked you in and slept by your side; watching you intently when any nightmare occured. Catching you to reassure you that there were no monsters here and he was there for you.

When morning occured, he made you your favorite food and had you eat it in bed. Watching your sleepy yet famished expression as you dug in your fill of heartiness.

But all good illusions come to an end when you accidently bit your tongue.

You woke up with the taste of blood in your mouth as you discovered half of your body missing. There was no gore or blood, nothing suggested that you were cut crudely from a mad butcher, there was only void. Yet when you turned your gaze upwards and saw him, he was different this time, his leathery shell and tentacles no longer dark blue or black, but red. His old self molten and thrown to the side in the darkness if you squinted your eyes.

You wanted to scramble from away from him. Demand an answer. But you froze.

You found yourself stuck to the shallow basin as if you were a rat stuck to a glue trap. The more you struggled the more you found yourself imposed inside the deceivingly benign liquid. You began to sink inside the water sand pit agonizingly slow. And you stared at him with horror as he gazed. Yet somehow, you could feel that he didn't want this either.

He never did, but what other way could he had done to make you understand?

The last of your fingertips submerged into the clear water, and there was silence and darkness. The only things tangible were your thoughts. The thoughts slowly tearing itself apart and melting away like shreds of paper in water.

Five sunsets and three sunrises later.

He watched eagerly, his eight blue eyes slowly blinked as he saw a cocoon emerged out of the annular basin without being drenched as if it were waterproof. He floated over to the cocoon, and allowed one careful tendril to stroke it. Getting a sense of the metamorphosis that occured.

The cocoon began to slowly tear itself open like paper and slowly out emerged thorny appendages that curiously yet lazily explored it sensory surroundings. But then its head escaped its dark lair.

You blinked open your eyes like the first time you found yourself here, but this time your world felt so much more clearer. You felt weightless and airy as if no bones or flesh held you down, you could feel every wind whistle and absorb into your skin, you could smell everything from the oily pores to the thin air in the atmosphere, you could see the world in different spectrums of light and color simultaneously, you could feel the most subtle of textures with one padded end of your appendage.

And when you saw him, you didn't react with fear when he approached and offered his appendage to you like offering a hand. With the last remanants of your human memories, you recall his silent voice, yet this time, his softest now spoke the loudest to your ears with a tremble and gentle voice that you would never hear in a human:

"Hello, my love."

[crypt1da]

Part 1 Part 2

You've been stuck on this planet you could not pronounce. Its residents mysterious and elusive as ever; their forms unconforming and strange. They reminded you of brittle stars or siphonophores who drifted into the air as if it were the ocean waves instead.

The air was thin and hard to breathe, you were forced to having to take deep breaths and careful steps amongst the terrain that was unbelievably moist and smooth as if was drenched from an ancient flood eons ago...

You could easily slip and die.

Suffocate from the sparkling blue mud that twinkled underneath your every step like a velvet carpet. You only found solace in some rocks that shielded you from the winds that sliced your skin, almost literally, when you see small cuts of blood daring to pool out of the small crevices.

That's how life here went for you.

You watched, waited, and hoped.

You watched those aliens float through the air like fish as if you were stuck at the bottom of the sea. Or perhaps they were birds instead. And as you stared up at the atmosphere where you could see the neighbor planet's magnificent colors and rings; you waited. For help to come to you, waiting for your fellow human comrades to come rescue your predicament.

But hope.

Hope was something you kept close to your chest like a deck of cards. It was the only thing keeping you awake at night and alive every day; it was the thing that convinced to keep eating those weird algae clumps found in those shallow tide pools and drink the crystal clear water that you hoped was safe. It was the thing that told you everything is okay, wait it out, this will be a story you will laugh off after a few years.

But it waned every day.

Day by day, you began to grow hopeless, almost succumbing to the whims of your dying sanity and the constant, repetitive colors of this planet that was permanently made of dark algae greens and neon oceanic blues. You felt like you were going blind when you stared at the cool colors, you felt like your vision was going red and pink, you were seeing things you shouldn't be seeing. And feelings things you shouldn't be–

You saw "him."

At least, you thought it was a "he."

He who you funnily called "Cthulhu" to save your sanity. (The nickname didn't last long)

Every day, when the half sun rose from the dark horizon like a broken toy being taken out of its play box to be toyed again by its celestial child, you see him hovering over the pond of muddy water like an angel. He who observed you with his eight eyes that spiraled into the center of his face. You were sure he was hiding more eyes.

But it went on like this for most days, he never moved, only followed your form when you moved across the treeless swamps for the edible algae next to the sea. And then, when you returned, you could count on him to just stand there.

It was normal, you didn't know how to feel about this strange routine, but you rationalized that as long as you both never bothered each other then everything is alright.

But that morning, when the sun emerged out of its horizon, you noticed he was a lot closer this time. In fact, he was standing right in front of your rocky entrance. You panicked, but you didn't scream, you didn't know what will happened if you did. All you could do was stay still like a snowshoe hare waiting for the lynx to scamper off, only running when necessary.

But to delicate surprise, you only saw clumps of algae neatly fitted into an "orb" of sorts? You shyly peaked out of your rocky hideout to match your eyes with his red eyes. A stare contest that lasted only for a few seconds before he began to slowly hover away with his limbs flying along with him like ribbons gently caressed by wind. You would hesitantly take the orb and indulge in a morning of...algae.

It went like this every morning for a while.

You didn't hate it, but you both weren't exactly friends yet. You couldn't trust someone like him. It would be dumb to just accept free offers like that left and right. But despite fear, you watched him watch you. Sometimes you would see him dance across and around the pond as if he was a bird of paradise performing a ritualistic dance to entice his female counterparts. Sometimes you would see him float up high in the sky, eyes moving across his body as if he was surveying for something, or someone. Sometimes you would find some pretty jewels laid out in the entrance of your rock home like offerings.

Then, the incident came that day.

The wind was particularly harsh that day and it cut against your skin so deeply you had large gashs across your skin like tiger stripes. You stumbled across the lands to try and hide away back to rocky solace. But you felt the air lighter and your vision brighter, flashes of life and memories passing by you like a sped up movie titled "You."

And maybe you found relief that you could die. Dying in a painful and agonizingly way was not the way to go, but dying nonetheless, allowing for a greater force to take you when you hesitated... It was almost like hope gave up on you yet weirdly decided to save you too.

But as you finally slipped and laid out across the glowing blue mud to accept the cruel winds, you felt your body caressed and gently curled up like you were a burrito wrap. The nodes and texture similar to that of soften leather and rubber. His limbs took you up and close to his form, shielding you from the winds as you were wrapped protectively. So much so that you felt yourself getting warmer and hotter in his grips when the cool air was refused entry.

Wrapped and succumbed to his needle appendages that dug into your flesh, like you could pop like a balloon in a box of needles. He was incredibly strong despite his "flimsy" looking tentacles as they curled and carried you around. You were lifted off of the ground, losing your worn out shoes in the process. The air up in skirs got thinner and harder to breathe in, your chest began to hurt a little like something was pressing against your chest. You almost felt your eyes go out, your head getting lighter but pressed against him.

He begun to "climb" through the air, his appendages acting like there were invisible climbing walls you couldn't see. It wasn't like the times he could just literally float.

As you both ascended the heights of the thin and light atmosphere your eyes began to close in on themselves and perhaps this was the end of it. The end to your hope and fears. And maybe, it was for the better. But when you feel the limbs of his needles gently poke into you, you felt like you wouldn't die, he wouldn't allow you to.

To be continued...