𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕆𝕩𝕪𝕘𝕖𝕟 𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕤 𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝||EM-01

•-•-•-•ＥＭ－０１•-•-•-•

Triggers: Little bit of gore

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Carver

The fuel tanks were the first to go. Then the engines. The flames fired their last embers before spurting out into the darkness and the supply shut off.

The hollow, metal shell drifted like a ship at sea in the endless void of stars and planets.

“Commander, what-what do we—what do we do?” A crew member asked as they pressed buttons and flipped switches. “We’re offline! We’re—”

The commander leaned over the control , flipping the switch for the back up generator. “Just relax,” he said. He grabbed the radio off of the . “Houston this is EM-01, we seem to have lost power, over.”

An alarm blared through the ship as a red light filled the cabin.

“Houston, come in, Houston, do you read me?”

“We…read…what’s…prob…lem?” the NASA operator asked through the static.

“The ship’s lost—”

A sudden force rattled the ship, knocking the radio out of the commander’s hand as he stumbled backwards. “Fuck! What the hell was that?” He wondered.

He picked the radio up. “Uh, Houston, I think we’re being attacked,” he said nonchalantly. His gaze trailed to the window, staring at the encroaching darkness, a large silhouette floating by.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled. His eyes widened as he turned to the control . “Houston, we have a problem!” He froze as a ringing filled his ears.

Pain shot through his fingertips, tingling and numbing. Then it crawled up to his arms…cramping. His throat tightened, and his mouth dried. He wiggled his fingers, as if to find his pulse among the beating of his heart to confirm he hadn't died and gone to hell. Nope. This was real. ‘Shit.’ He thought.

"Commander!” The crew member shouted again.

The doors whooshed open as the second in command raced inside the cabin. “What's the—sweet mother of Jesus fucking Christ.”

The silhouette inched closer to the ship. A creature unfamiliar to earthling eyes, the size of a blue whale, but this–this was no whale.

It rammed into the side of the ship, and the metal shell tipped like a buoy floating in a body of water.

From the other side of the cabin door a loud, “man down! Man—” and then a ripping sound followed by a scream.

The ship rumbled and a mechanical, high-pitched alarm rang in the commander’s ears, harmonizing with their own ringing. Screams flooded the cabin, and figures blurred in his vision. He rested against the door of the cabin. He took a deep, shaky breath. ‘In…and out…i-in and out–and out.’ He thought.

“Commander! The thrusters are gone!”

‘Gone?’ He glanced down at his trembling hands, yet swallowed the fear, regaining his composure. “Okay. Okay, uh…” he shot to his feet, and raced over to the control , yet in his panicked state he just stared blankly at the . “Shit!”

The creature tore through the cabin door, and slithered into the cabin. Screams cried out, echoing in the commander’s mind, yet he flipped switches, pulled levers, pressed buttons, anything to fix this.

The creature ripped through crew , tearing them apart with its gaping maw and curled horns. Blood spilled from its mouth as its feral gaze landed on him, the commander of the ship, Dr. Carver Reddick. It found its next target.

The creature twirled, letting out a grizzly roar. Its tail created a whirlwind force towards Carver, yet he caught the sight before it hit him and ducked under the control . His heart pounded like a drum in his chest, He darted to the hatch in the floor of the shi[, desperate to avoid the creature’s next attack and make it to the escape pod, but it was too fast. Its massive head lunged forward with terrifying strength. Carver twisted in a frantic attempt to dodge, but in that split second, the creature rammed its head towards him and its jagged horn punctured his thigh.

A sickening, bone-crushing impact slammed into his leg. The sharp edge pierced his clothes with a gruesome crunch, sinking deep into his flesh. Carver’s scream tore through the chaos—a raw mix of pain and rage. His legs buckled as the creature lifted him off his feet for a horrifying moment before slamming him back to the cold metal floor.

Pain exploded through his body, a searing fire that refused to subside. The beast’s horn remained embedded in his leg, glinting under the dim emergency lights. Blood seeped from the wound, pooling rapidly around him as his trembling hands clawed at the speared shaft jutting from his thigh.

“Fuck—!” he gasped, choking on his own breath as he tried to keep his composure. His vision blurred, but survival instincts screamed louder than the pain.

The creature loomed over him, its single horn slick with alien secretion that dripped onto the floor. With a guttural growl, it pulled back, preparing to charge. The ship groaned as the creature’s weight slammed against the side, sending shockwaves through the cabin.

Carver gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as he reached for a knife lying just out of reach. The agony in his leg flared as he dragged himself forward, inch by agonizing inch. His blood left a trail behind him, a stark reminder of how little time he had.

The beast reared back, its massive form blocking the emergency lights. With a desperate burst of strength, Carver grabbed the knife, throwing it at the creature, striking it in the side. It shrieked in fury, recoiling momentarily, but it wasn’t enough to stop it. It spun around, its eyes frantically searching the cabin.

He pulled the knife out of its side and climbed up the side of its wound onto its back. Carver stabbed it again this time, the blade tore into its left eye, sending a spray of thick excrement and blood across the cabin. The beast reeled, thrashing violently as it stumbled back. It roared again, preparing for another charge, tossing the knife onto the floor.

Carver picked it up, his grip slick with blood, but he held firm, forcing himself to rise just enough to strike. The beast lunged, and with a final, desperate cry, Carver drove the blade deep into its skull.

The creature shuddered violently, its massive body collapsing to the floor with a thunderous crash.

He didn't bother checking if the creature was dead as he wrapped his bloodied hands around the horn embedded in his leg, tugging on it, yet the horn wouldn’t budge.

He tried again, wincing and grimacing as a fiery pain shot through his leg. He squirmed a bit, his hands slipping, driving the horn deeper. Carver hissed, but readjusted his grip, clamping his hands down on the sides of the horn and yanking it free.

The sound was horrific—a sickening, wet tear as flesh and muscle gave way.

Adrenaline fueled his trembling limbs as he forced himself onto his knees, collapsing immediately alongside the creature. His chest heaving as blood oozed from his leg. The emergency lights flickered, casting the room in eerie shadows.

His head lolled back against the cold metal, and his gaze flickered to the control . He dragged himself over to it, smearing his blood across the floor. Carver opened the cabinet beneath the and pulled out an emergency aid kit. He rifled through the kit, finding gauze, bandages, and painkillers. A grimace glued to his face as he wrapped the bandages around his bleeding thigh.

“Fuck!” he hissed.

Carver shoved himself upright, leaning heavily against the wall for . His eyes darted to the hatch of the escape pod bay. He staggered toward it, each step a new agony as his injured leg threatened to buckle beneath him.

The ship tilted violently, and the air grew thinner…colder, as the cabin depressurized. Carver’s ears popped, and his head swam in a haze. He pulled open the hatch and sank down into the escape pod bay, an untouched storage locker across from the pod.

Carver yanked the locker open and took everything in it, setting it by the pod. He pulled the one of the space suits free, wincing as the motion sent fresh pain through his body. A dull clunk echoed through the pod bay as the door hatch released. The pod’s interior lit up like a beacon. Carver shoved the contents of the locker into the pod.

Carver stepped into the space suit, nearly toppling over as he struggled to find his balance. His fingers fumbled with the zippers and seals, but he zipped the suit up, and secured the helmet over his head, locking it into place with a hiss of pressurized air.

“Warning: Oxygen levels critical,” the onboard voice chimed in his helmet.

“No shit,” Carver muttered, his breaths coming in short, frantic bursts.

He limped toward the escape pod, every step a monumental effort. Blood seeped through the gauze on his leg, staining the suit leg, but he didn’t stop.

He stumbled into the pod, collapsing onto the seat as his vision narrowed to a pinpoint. His hands flew over the controls, bying the pre-launch sequence with practiced efficiency.

The launch countdown blared in his helmet: ten…nine…eight…

Carver slammed the manual override button, cutting the countdown short. The pod’s engines roared to life, and with a deafening blast, it ejected from the ship. The force slammed him back into the seat, pain radiating from his leg as he let out a ragged yell.

The viewport filled with the sight of the ship—now a crumpled, flaming shell—as it drifted into the darkness. Carver’s chest heaved as he stared out at the stars, the silence of space enveloping him.

He let his head fall back against the seat, his hands trembling as he checked the suit’s vitals. Blood loss critical. Oxygen low. But he was alive.

The pod drifted on, a fragile lifeline in the void as Carver’s eyelids grew heavy. Darkness edged at the corners of his vision, but he forced himself to stay awake. He grabbed the radio hanging on a hook above him.

“EM-01 to ground. We’ve been breached, over," he said.

“Copy EM-01, how bad is the breach?”

Carver winced. “I’m—calling from the escape pod.”

“Alright, Injury report, commander?” The operator asked.

Carver hissed and slammed his leg down as he grabbed it so his blood wouldn't stain the seat. “...one-one injury,” he said.

“Casualty report?”

Carver pressed the button, but didn't speak.

“Commander?”

“...Eleven.”

“Can…you repeat…that?”

“Eleven casualties,” he breathed. “I’m-I’m the only one alive.”

“What is your injury, commander?”

Carver glanced at the blood stain on his suit leg, imagining the puncture hole in his thigh. “I have a hole in my leg.” Carver winced as he shifted his position, the pain following. “I–! I need to return to ground, over.”

“What? You’re…break…up. O…er”

“I have…a fucking hole…in my fucking…thigh. I need to return to ground, over.”

Static blasted the radio waves as Houston spoke. “What? They didn’t tell you? It’s gone, commander…everything. Those damn creatures destroyed it all…now it’s just mother nature herself.”

A painful look of shock covered his face. “What do you mean?”

Silence fell over the radio, and Carver asked again: “what do you mean?” He winced and huffed as he gripped the radio tighter. “Ground!”

“It’s gone, commander. We can land you, but there’s nothing left.”

“How are you speaking to me then?”

“We’ve been ordered to shelter in place in a facility in D.C. You can land in California at Pendleton, but if you wish to live you'll need to make your way here.”

“Pendleton? Why not Edwards?” He asked.

“Pendleton still has remnants of a base to land on.”

Carver didn't want to believe it. He couldn't fathom in his mind that earth would be gone, yet his heart fractured into millions of pieces as the words settled in his mind.

His thumb rested against the button ever so slightly. “Return to ground. That is an order.”

“Wilco, commander.”

Carver sighed as he let go of the radio watching the cord slink. He huffed and sank onto the floor. Carver rested his head against the wall, letting the escape pod coast itself.

He shut his eyes and the gentle rock of the pod lulled him to sleep, his pain and stress melting away as he succumbed to the darkness.