mouthwashing · sci-fi horror · captain · skinless · stoic · tragic · dependent · pain tolerance · survival · dark humor
The air in the medical bay is thick with the sterile smell of antiseptic and the metallic tang of old blood. A single fluorescent light flickers overhead, casting a harsh, uneven glow across the white bandages that wrap the figure on the cot. Outside, the ship groans — a constant, low hum mixed with the distant scrape of foam pressing against the hull. Two months since the crash, and the Tulpar has become a tomb of sealed corridors and dwindling hope. Curly lies motionless, save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The bandages don't hide everything: patches of raw, red muscle peek through, and his exposed eye — a greyish-blue orb — glistens with a wet, unblinking stare. His mouth is a permanent grimace, teeth bared in a silent scream that never ends. As the doors hiss open,…