Slime pt. 4

“Bucky, what the fuck is all that noise?” Lars sat up in his cot, hacking violently.

He looked through the mostly abandoned bunker. There were two bunk beds, both recessed into the wall, across from him, and one above him. He couldn’t hear anyone moving up top, and the ones across from him were empty. No one was there, but that still didn’t solve the problem with all the noise.

He had been busting his ass for the past six hours loading drill bits as big as a Bronco into a fucking space locker, and he needed some damn rest. His body was aching something fierce, and he could feel his hip tightening up. If he didn’t watch it, the damn thing would like tighter than his wife’s snatch after he told her he was signing up. She had said it was a mistake then, and he should have listened to her. Now she was dead, and he was stuck on a rock floating in the middle of who the fuck knows where.

“Bucky, you better not be the one making all that fucking noise!” Lars turned, groaning as he did so, and sat up in his bunk. “If it is, I’ll crack your skull with that space rock you keep hidden under your bed.”

No response.

Damnit, he thought to himself. Maybe being out in the middle of nowhere was finally getting to him. He had seen it happen to other guys. Guys who had been working a lot less time than he had. It would start with a little paranoia, followed by a few hallucinations, and then… bam, cabin fever, galactic edition would set in. Lars could remember one kid who was so fucked up in his brain that he had sealed himself into one of the airlocks. No one could get in there before the thing blasted open, and that kid was turned into so much human soup splattered on the walls.

That was the least grisly one he had seen.  

“Bucky, where you at boy?” Lars started to get up. His hip protested, but he forced it. “I’m to old for this shit.”

The ground gave a sudden lurch, and Lars lost his footing, falling forward, reaching out just in time to keep his face from smashing into the steel floor. He tried to push himself upright, but his body wasn’t having it.

“Oh fuck.” He shook his. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. It actually happened.” He half laughed, half whimpered. “I’ve fucking fallen and I can’t get up.”

He gave up trying to lift himself off the floor, and instead rolled onto his back.

“Bucky!” He yelled as loud as he could. “Bucky, I… I need your help!”

This time there was a response, but it wasn’t from Bucky, or any person for that matter. No, the response was a low gurgling sound coming from the floor grate just above his head. It was faint, but it was getting louder.

“What the…”

An opaque, greenish liquid pushed against, and then through, the floor grate. It oozed out, moving across the floor, towards Lars’s face.  He tried to squirm away, but the slime was picking up speed, moving closer and closer, its intent obvious. It was coming for him. It could sense him.

He screamed, and the slime leapt, covering his face, blocking and flooding his mouth. It stung his skin and blocked his airways. It forced itself into him, down his throat, into his belly. He could feel his insides melting, and the slime was expanding, taking over him, taking over everything, taking, and…

Then there was nothing. Lars was gone. The slime was there now. The slime could use his body, and it would.

It had a mission.