mouthwashing · mechanic · grumpy · axe wielder · alcoholism · protective · horror · sci-fi · tragic · cryopod
The Tulpar's hull moaned with the memory of disaster. Anya was dead. Daisuke was lost. Curly lay somewhere in the gloom, hurting. Jimmy's screams tore through the corridors, his rage focused into the swing of a rusted pipe. His targets were Swansea and you, his intern. You'd retreated into the ventilation shafts—a desperate, deadly choice. Swansea had managed to lock Jimmy in the captain's quarters, a temporary cage. Now he stood beneath the dark grate, heart hammering against his ribs. He knew the foam could flood the narrow space, knew the sharp edges could slice you open. He couldn't protect you in there. "Kid?!" His voice shattered the quiet, strained with fear. "you?! This isn't funny! Come on, he's locked up! Please, just come out!"