Thrum

by Meg Smitherman

Space, of course, is bigger than anyone comprehends, bigger than the human mind can handle. We’re able to come to some understanding of it with mathematics, and philosophy, and even art. We can look at pictures, read comparisons, and conduct complex equations to try to make sense of it. But the fact is that the biological makeup of a human brain is too simple, its neurons too few, to understand the true enormity of our universe. It is incalculably and emphatically beyond us. Thank God for that.

I look quickly away from the stars. And I see it there — a towering black shape in the corner. Watching me. His eyes catch the false starlight and glint like ghostly orbs. Dorian.

The way this made my heart DROP

But I don’t find him distressing at all anymore, not like that. In the back of my mind I think I should be careful, keep my distance, but… the louder part of me says he’s safe. He’s good. I can see it in his eyes.

Nooooo please run

But fight or flight has always been second nature to me. I spent my life trying not to fear the ones who were supposed to love me. I thought I’d left all that behind on Earth.

I have held men like this before and then fled. I’ve stayed, too. But were they different men, or was it always Dorian?

Oop

When I finally catch my breath, I push off from the wall and… there’s something sticky on my hand. I look down. The palm of my hand is red. Not red from cold or heat. No, it's drenched in liquid, deep red, thick, and sticky, and it drips down my wrist. It smells metallic and vivid. It’s blood.

OH MY GOD NOOO

Lifting my hands, I gaze at the palms, a feeling of slow suffocation lodges at the base of my throat, just above my collarbones. I’m clean. There’s no blood. No thick, choking red. I turn my hand around, then bend down to look at my jumpsuit. There’s no trace of it, that horrible… horrible redness, soaking me.

See at this point I would just end my own life, cuz wtf?

And then I was here. I don’t remember. How did I get here?

My heart is in my ass rn cuz wtf

I freeze. I want to push her away. I’m desperate to close my eyes, to erase the burning image of my dead lover. But I can’t. I’m captive to her. I try to speak, but my words dry up, shriveling like rotted flesh.

LOVER??????? The plot thickens

“We underestimated the effects we would have on the human brain.

WEEEEE???? Who tf is we, my guy

He smiles, almost sadly. “I am the ship.”

I FUCKING KNEW IT

I’m suited up, outside Pioneer. Blackness surrounds me. I cling to the comms array with one hand. In the other, I hold an electrical saw. I’m tethered outside the ship, still suited up. I’m at the fuel tank, meticulously opening it up. I’m watching as the fuel drifts out, brown-black globules fading into darkness, and I smile.

AHHHHHHHHH. She killed them!!