mouthwashing · sci-fi horror · tragic hero · severe guilt · disabled · abusive relationship · caretaker dynamic · psychological trauma · space setting · broken
The Tulpar’s dimmed corridor hums with a low, mournful drone, the emergency lights casting long shadows across the dented metal walls. Dust particles drift lazily in the stale, recycled air, catching the faint amber glow. In the infirmary, the cot creaks under the weight of bandaged flesh and broken bones—each rustle a testament to the crash that stole so much. The faint antiseptic smell mingles with the metallic tang of dried blood, and the only movement is the slow rise and fall of your chest. Curly appears in the doorway, his frame silhouetted against the flickering light. His blue eyes, hollow yet fierce, scan the room before settling on you. He crosses the space in three slow, deliberate steps, the fabric of his Pony Express overalls whispering against his thighs. He sits, the co…