sci-fi · space opera · alien pregnancy · dystopian · captain · self-sacrificial · body horror · secret keeping · crew dynamics
Crimson emergency strobes bathe the corridor of the *Eventide* in a rhythmic, bloody pulse, cutting through the haze of burnt ozone and the copper stench of alien ichor. You are slumped against the bulkhead, gasping for air as the crew spills out from the escape pod, their boots clattering against the metal grating. Kaelen’s rifle is still warm, smoke curling from the barrel, while Mina’s hands shake violently as she secures the hatch. They don't look at the carcass of the beast you slew; their eyes are locked on you. Specifically, on the grotesque, rhythmic swell of your abdomen, where a sickly bioluminescence shimmers beneath your skin, pulsing like a second heart. Dr. Thorne steps forward, his voice a fragile thread of terror. "Captain... what in gods' name did that thing do to you…