Horror No Safe Haven

0636 hours - Bunks

Two levels above the mess lay the crew's quarters. Simple but comfortable, each member had their own specific bunk in this wheel, perpetually spinning at a steady rate to simulate gravity.

As Russel Wood neared the bunks proper though, a curious odour caught his nostrils by surprise - metallic, dull - the smell of rust, iron.

The privacy screen to Dr. Marcus Ulls' bunk was still drawn. Wood could see the silhouette of the man's sleeping figure - but there was that smell still.

Whatever thoughts flashed through Wood's mind as he drew back the screen - jokes about the man's dinner, lighthearted comment about having a shower, morning greeting - fled like deer startled by a gunshot on a misty morning. Ulls looked pale, too pale - the South African doctor had the darkest complexion of them all, being an African man, and yet he looked ashen-faced. Russel reached to grab his shoulder, felt only the cold, clammy skin, jerked his hand back - and Marcus Ulls rolled over, eyes glassed over, mouth agape, blood on the sheets, on Russel's hand -

He staggered back in shock, terror. Marcus Ulls was dead.

Tag: Thread of Fate

 

IC: Dr. Tomas Ljungberg
NASA ODP - Mess

"Do you think it was a vision?" Skyler looked genuinely worried. She feared the uncertainty of outer space, as did Tomas. Things were different up here, that was a certainty. Even the food tasted differently with the different pressure on the ODP. Tomas finished his last bite of toast and leaned back in his chair, not once looking away from Skyler.

"I do not know," he said, "visions are hard to define. What is your opinion on this?" Maybe Skyler would open up to him even more.

His attention was distracted by Nadia Heron, another one of Tomas' colleagues. She had just arrived from the bunks, and appeared quite shaken up. Did she have the dream as well, Tomas wondered. That would truly be a phenomenon, he thought. Heron reluctantly took a small muffin and a glass of milk, noticeably against her usual routine. She walked to the table conservatively, nervous about her colleagues' opinions about her. Her plain dress and aversion to eye contact clearly personified her withdrawn personality. She sat down awkwardly and silently began eating.

Heron' quiet demeanor reminded Tomas of someone else who had said little during the time period. Tomas turned to Wesley Anderton and asked, "So what about you, my friend. Any strange dreams?"

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Marritonette Skyler
Mess Hall

"I do not know visions are hard to define. What is your opinion on this?" Tomas Ljungberg answered her question as such. She pondered for a few moments. Questions. ?My thoughts on the matter are that somehow, a self projected fear within on out minds perhaps caused a similar vision. Perhaps we fear the same type of things?? she asked him. Standing up, she scooped the crumbs of her toast into her hand and tossed it into the garbage.

?I do think I will go back up and freshen up a little more,? Mary announced, secretly curious about Russell Wood. He seemed to have been up there longer than thought. She offered a wave as she came into the room. She stopped cold. Russell was frozen, staring into the bunk. ?Um, Mr. Wood?? she asked creeping closer.

Then she screamed. Marcus Ulls was dead. Blood was on him, and his mouth was open in an agape matter. ?Help! Dear God, help!? Mary screamed as she fell backwards on her butt. Shock shuddered throughout her.

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IC: Dr. Tomas Ljungberg
NASA ODP - Mess/Bunks

"My thoughts on the matter are that somehow, a self projected fear within on out minds perhaps caused a similar vision. Perhaps we fear the same type of things?" Skyler had the right idea, but she was wrong. Skyler couldn't imagine what he was afraid of. Most of it was due to several of his drunken stupors during college, but even so, they were horrible.

"Maybe you are right," Tomas responded. She was very insightful. Maybe I should teach her psychology, Tomas thought. Skyler got up and threw away the crumbs from her slice of toast and left, possibly for the bunks. Tomas looked back at Wesley Anderton. He still hadn't said anything. Neither had Nadia Heron. Tomas' eyes flicked between the two quiet crew members. One was usually that way, the other was acting out of character. As much as Tomas wanted to crack Anderton's shell and figure out what was gnawing at him, he wanted to peruse his conversation with Skyler.

He rapped the table with his knuckle, trying to fill the void with some noise. "Well, feel free to tag along if you want to talk," he said as he stood up. Throwing away his trash, he headed back to the bunks, hoping to catch back up to Skyler so he could continue grilling her for answers.

When he was about twenty meters from the bunkroom, he was met with the sound of a horrified scream. "Help! Dear God, help!" It was Skyler, and she sounded like she was in trouble. Tomas ran the last twenty meters and punched the activator on the door. It slid open, revealing a disturbing sight. Skyler was on the ground, screaming. Russel Wood was standing over a bunk, and there was someone in that bunk that wasn't moving. Someone that wasn't alive.

It was Marcus Ulls, one of the other members of the crew. "Äsch," Tomas said in disgust and shock, "förbanna den." Ulls was covered in blood. He had been dead for a while now. Something in the back of his mind pined for a drink, but he crushed the desires. This is my area of expertise, he thought as he looked down at Skyler. There was obvious distress. Now, Tomas switched off his funny switch and slipped into full-blown psychiatrist mode.

"Mary," he said, walking over to Skyler, "let's get out of here." He grabbed her arm gently and offered to help her to her feet. If she was as smart as he believed she was, she would come with him.

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Marritonette Skyler
Bunks

Marcus Ulls. She had spoken with him recently. Nice, African American man. Nice, dead, African American man. The blood was on her hands. She didn?t remember reaching out to him, but she must have.

Her husband?s hand in her lap. Without his arm.

Mary screamed as she leaped into Tomas?s arms. She was crying.

Her husband?s head in the windshield.

Tears trickled down her nose.

Reaching up to him, feeling the back of his head.

She wiped her hands on Tomas. She felt like a wreck.

The blood was on her hands. Her husband?s blood was on her hands.

Mary raised her head to Tomas and stumbled to the door. She kept seeing her husband. His face. His beard. His hair. Blood matted hair.

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Bunks, Orbital Defense Platform - 0636 hours, November 13th, 2018

As panic set in, things started twist in the minds of the crew. Ulls, dead? How? When? Why?

Who?

Glances were thrown around, suspicion, worry, uncertainty. It was surreal, Ulls couldn't be dead! Not Marcus Ulls!

Maybe they could just wake up...if only they could-

"Please wake up! It is now 0600 hours on the thirteenth of November, 2018. Good morning! Please wake up! It is now..."

And one by one, they woke up. Some started, as one is wont to do upon waking from a nightmare; that sudden jerk, spasm, the jump of fright - but the fright had passed, and the dream was over.

Of course, two bunks were conspicuously absent: Marcus Ulls and Gregory Levyafansko.

Whose voices were then heard over the comm, the sound of sizzling bacon in the background: "Up and at 'em, crew! Gregory's got the waffles going and I'm trying not to burn the bacon!"

"Long day ahead - many tests, one or two strolls outside. Best way to start is now - big breakfast!"

And the day began, the dream ended.

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Marritonette Skyler
Mess Hall

Who had killed Marcus Ulls? The question burned into her mind like an iron left on a shirt too long. The mental state of being of her was messed up. She calmly tried to mentally assess the situation. Someone had murdered the African American man lying in his bed. And in the process they had corrupted her nerves.

Why can?t this be a dream? I wish this were a dream. . .

?Please wake up! It is now 0600 hours on the thirteenth of November, 2018. Good Morning! Please wake up! It is now. . .? Mary opened her eyes and shock. She looked around, getting from her bed. She shook vigorously, shivering. It had just been a dream. Gregory and Marcus were shouting down to al of them about today?s work.

I can?t tell anyone. They will think I am crazy. . .

Mary sighed as she took her ID card and walked to the mess hall. As she walked in, the warm aroma of waffles hit her. She thoroughly enjoyed it. ?Yum, waffles,? she sighed, taking a plate out and getting some waffles. She poured herself a glass of milk and then looked towards Marcus. He was standing there. Alive.

?Have any dreams last night?? she asked both of them. Her insides shivered. She was so scared.

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IC: Dr. Tomas Ljungberg
NASA ODP - Bunks/Mess

"...Please wake up! It is now 0600 hours on the thirteenth of November, 2018... Good Morning! Please wake up! It is now..."

Tomas sat up quickly, whacking his head against the frame of his bunk. Well, that means I'm really awake, he thought as he massaged his forehead. That dream had been quite vivid. Almost as vivid as the dream he had experienced while still dreaming. What a peculiar thing. Instinctively, he looked towards Marcus Ulls' bunk. It had been packed away for the day. Tomas' heart stopped.

"Up and at 'em, crew! Gregory's got the waffles going and I'm trying not to burn the bacon!" It was Ulls' voice. Tomas sighed as his pulse resumed. Looking around again, he saw Gregory Levyafansko's bunk missing as well. All was relatively well again. Tomas lay down again and closed his eyes for another moment. He peeped down at his feet to see Maritonette Skyler leaving the bunks. Again, she looked quite disturbed. Taking care to watch his head, Tomas dressed and hurried after her, pinning on his ID card as he entered the mess.

Skyler was already there, standing with a plate in hand. Then, the magic words flowed from her lips in a shaky monotone:

"Have any dreams last night?"

Tomas walked nonchalantly to the food and took a few waffles for himself. "I know I did," he said cooly, not once looking away from his food. Calmly, he began pouring syrup onto his waffles, watching as the lower gravity slowed the speed of descent. He waited for the response.

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Marritonette Skyler
Mess

?I know I did,? Tomas said as he sat down. He had himself a plate of pancakes also. ?Strange,? Mary turned to the man, ?Do you think visions are hard to define?? Mary asked, toying with her pancakes. They tasted great, as they usually did with Gregory. ?They taste delicious,? Mary commented. She felt like she had grown distant from everyone here. The dreams had been so vivid, so frightening.

Her husband, dying.

She wished she had some Tylenol right about then.

Her baby boy, gripped her hand tightly.

She looked down at her hand, expecting to see the very little hand of his.

She didn?t.

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Nadia Heron
NASA ODP - Bunks

A scream, maybe more, alerted Nadia. Haziness creeps into the memory. Suddenly back inside the straps from before, the pain. Now eating the muffin, tastes so good and so real...but a hint of syrup. Syrup, where would that notion be coming from? A scream again. Racing back to the bunks. Blood, shock, terror. Someone was killed or had killed themselves. Murder? Was it one of them? Back in the shower, making a joke...what kind of joke? Not important. A death, someone screaming. Screaming. Screaming.

Nadia's eyes flew open and she found herself in darkness. The comforting darkness that let her know she was back in her bunk. The cold sweat and increase of adrenaline shook away any grogginess from the turbulent sleep that she'd just experienced. She put her hand to her head and chuckled lightly, realizing that whatever that was, it was just a nightmare. The automated alarm was alerting them to the date and the time. 0600, 13th of November, 2018. On board the NASA ODP. The sound of Marcus Ulls voice was the next thing she registered as he spoke over the alarm. Perhaps it was more the sizzling bacon she could hear that awoke her from her slumber. For some reason she had the need for a good breakfast this morning.

And with that, she stood out of her bunk and headed for the shower. All anxiety and adrenaline from the nightmare was gone, only the singular fuzzy memory of blood and the ODP remained. That's what I get for watching Jason X before going to bed. She gave a small laugh to herself as she felt the water trickle down her face. Nothing like a shower to start the day. It was bad movie night, though. And that was a bad movie. Perhaps too bad. Another laugh, this time louder than before as she continued to think. Well, we are in a classic setup. Any day now and the computer will become sentient and we'll all become batteries. Spend all day computing pi. Or we'll meet the creatures from Alien. That would certainly be something. That bacon sure did sound good, though. I can't wait to get down there... Just as simply as the thoughts entered her mind, they vanished. This time along with the rest of the memory. Just another hazy nightmare brought on by a short sleep schedule and an awful movie. Nothing spectacular.

After dressing in her normal engineering uniform, Nadia began to make her way to the mess. Her clothes were nothing too flashy, just some assigned gear with the ODP patch stitched all over them. They were static resistant and made working with the technology far easier. Just simple, normal, plain work clothes. She had her hair tied in a bun behind her head so as to reduce it getting in her face, a stray strand or three from her bangs coming down in front of one eye. She never could get it all back, and they annoyed her.

As she entered the mess, she noticed that Marritonette Skyler and Tomas Ljungberg were conversing while they had their breakfast. It didn't concern her, so she didn't pay much attention to them. Let them have their conversation, she would just get her breakfast and eat alone as usual. Much too shy to initiate any conversations, she usually just grabbed a muffin and some milk. Today, however, was special. Marcus and Gregory were serving the plates with the waffles and bacon. She thanked them for the delicious looking meal and sat down to eat with her waffles, bacon, and milk. This was probably the most she'd had for breakfast in quite some time. Being a night owl, she'd never really been awake for breakfast. She'd even scheduled classes to allow for sleeping late in college. No, this early morning routine was entirely new to her. But it was quickly growing on her.

Glancing over at the two eating, and noticing both seemed a little off, there was an odd sense to the whole situation. Almost as if she'd been through this before. Then she lifted the fork to her mouth and the spongy sweetness of the waffle melted any lingering thoughts away. This would be a very good day.

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IC: Dr. Tomas Ljungberg
NASA ODP - Mess

Tomas thought for a moment. Were visions hard to define? His education had taught him that a vision was an experience of seeing someone or something in a dream or trance, and was best defined as a paranormal experience. He didn't like to delve into that sort of tomfoolery, but usually someone's so-called "vision" showed an internal struggle or problem that the person was too afraid to address on their own. Was Mary hiding something from everyone?

He gave her a simple answer: "Yes, very. They show what your problems are." He stuffed a chunk of waffle into his mouth, chewing it slowly. Its texture was exquisite. I must commend Gregory at a later time, Tomas said to himself. He studied Mary's face. It had gone twisted and dark. Her expression mirrored that of someone having a traumatic memory. Her loss, Tomas deduced.

"Mary," he said quietly. He softened his own facial expression. "You know I am a psychiatrist. You can talk to me about anything." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. Next, he dove for the throat. "I, uh, I don't mean to pry," he said softly, "but, how did you lose them?"

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Marritonette Skyler
Mess

Mary noticed Nadia Heron sat down. The woman was in the prime of her life. Mary had done some searching about the fellow female volunteers of this, and she had gotten some nice information. The girl was shy, very shy, as Mary could draw by how the girl acted. ?Hello, Nadia. How was your night? Mine was a nightmare,? Mary almost laughed at the irony racing through her mind.

Mary then started twirling her hair with her fingers as she looked to Tomas. He was a very nice man, and seemed to be very close. As she listened absentmindedly, she took another bite of pancakes. ?I, uh, I don?t mean to pry, but how did you lose them?? Mary felt the sweetness of the pancakes go sour. She tossed them up on her plate. Looking at Nadia and Tomas, she sighed.

?I?m sorry. I didn?t mean to do that?? she told them, leaning back in her chair, ?I guess I?m done with this food.? Mary put her plate up and scraped the food off. Sitting back down, she looked to Tomas and Nadia.

?My family was the only thing I could ask for. The perfect, average American family. I enjoyed it thoroughly. My husband?s father had. . .enemies, I guess you call them. To my son I called them villains. Made it much more interesting to him. He loved stories,? Mary wiped a small tear from her cheek. She then looked strong again, ?My husband and I were taking my son to the zoo. He loved animals too. He might have became a scientist.? Mary wiped more tears from her eyes.

?The ?villains? were in a powerful car. A strong, powerful car. While I held my son?s book, his animal book, they hit us from the side. My husband had a car just like his father?s and they must have taken him to be his father. When they hit us. . .? she started sobbing then, looking at her hands, ?My son was rocked in his seat. The doctors say that was what finally killed him. My husband tried to control the wheel, but he couldn?t. The car spun out of control, and I tried to hold my son. I tried.? Mary tried to muster a smile, but for once the pain overtook her.

?My husband hit the windshield. He was dead in impact. I could tell, and yet I still had to make sure. When I reached to get him, he didn?t move. I hadn?t been injured, maybe a few scratches and bruises. I thought my baby, my son would make it. At the hospital, that night, his brain stopped functioning. The doctors offered a zero percent chance he would survive, and if he did he would forever be immobile. So. . .? Mary stopped wiping her face. In her mind she could see her son in that bed. Her baby. Dying.

?So I let him go,? she stared at the oven, staring with a solemn look, ?I could have been the one to have died in that bed in the hospital. I should have been the one there. I should have!? Mary had never let so many of her feelings out and feared to look up, as she knew she would face sympathy. The sympathy might make her even more sad. But she would not risk her time up her in space. This was her only comforting place.

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IC: Dr. Tomas Ljungberg
NASA ODP - Mess

Tomas sat through Mary's recount of her family's last moments in silence. It was terrible. Tomas saw the event unfold in his mind, something he had been able to do since his childhood, and wished it would just disappear from his memory. As bad as it was for him, it was traumatic for Mary. She had been there, and made the conscious decision to let go of the two people she had held most dear. Now, she seemed to be placing blame on herself for that choice. Finally, a heavy conscience had been fully revealed. Tomas was now able to absorb all the information he wanted.

No, he thought, not yet. He had just forced someone to relive a traumatic experience for his own personal gain. The psychiatrist in him overpowered his ego. I have to help her now.

Seeing Mary's hand on the table, Tomas took it in his gently. He sat in silence for a few moments as emotion still spewed from Mary's face. "I'm sorry," he said. He looked at Mary square in the eyes with his best poker face. "I lost mine in a train wreck." He pushed aside his food. "You can talk to me about anything, you know," he said.

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Marritonette Skyler
Mess

Turning back to Tomas, she saw he was holding something back. Something hard to him. ?I lost mine in a train wreck. You can talk to me about anything,? Tomas told her. He was squeezing her hand now.

Mary looked into his eyes, her tear stained eyes quivering slighly.

He had comforted her here, as if life was on stand still.

Mary leaned closer.

?What happened?? she breathed.

This is what her husband would want.

This is what she wanted.

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IC: Dr. Tomas Ljungberg
NASA ODP - Mess

Tomas took a deep breath. "I'm not sure," he said, "I was at school at the time. The police say my parent's car had stalled on the tracks when the warning bells went off." He laughed. "They had had that car since I was born, never wanted to replace it." He remembered the musty old smell of the Volvo 740 sedan that had taken him from school to practice so many times, followed by trips from school to therapy. Tomas swallowed hard. "Again, the car was so old the doors stuck shut. There was nothing they could do. The cow catcher spit the car in half, and they both were immediately killed by shrapnel to the head. All the other damage came from being tossed around." Tomas looked back at Mary. "They felt little to no pain."

Tomas fell silent. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had never talked about the accident before, feeling it was something he needed to keep to himself and not bother anyone else with. Now, he realized, that talking was an alternative to drinking. It was, granted, less fun than a shot or two, he thought.

Tomas felt confident that he was discovering new parts of himself he had never known existed. I mustn't let anyone else know, he thought, I need to stay on top.

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Marritonette Skyler
Mess

She heard Tomas.

And she heard her husband.

She heard his shout as he plunged forward.

?No,? she whispered, her eyes glazing over slightly.

She shook her heard back to Tomas.

?I am so sorry for your tragedy, but I understand,? she said, then coldly stood and marched back to her room. She walked back to the bedrooms, laying back in her bed. Tears streaked down her face. She wished she could feel normal emotions.

But she couldn?t.

Her husband always haunted her.

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