Of Monsters and Mainframes

by Barbara Truelove

It’s a beautiful day.

Something’s wrong.

I don’t know, the system responds. But something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.

I check for heat signatures. Nothing. Oh. They’re all dead. Well. That’s awkward.

Excellent. This is wonderful news. None of this is my fault.

“Welcome to your new home.”

My report is only ever accessed one time, by Wilhelmina Murray of Murray Intelligence Agency. Her identification photo has a high contrast of pigments. Very white skin, very dark hair. I hope she reads my report, believes me, finds Dracula, and . . . I don’t know. Stops him from eating people? That’s what you’re supposed to do when you find Dracula, right? Error: Insufficient data. I don’t know. My systems aren’t designed to deal with this sort of thing.

variety is good for mental health.

New mission. New name. New me.

Screaming. Well . . . that’s probably not good.

But humans do sometimes scream for fun.

Demeter. Steward’s message is firm. Don’t do it. Don’t. I’m going to do it. DEMETER! DON’T YOU DARE⁠— I do it.

Humans are hard.

Human action is not your fault.

After all, it is probable that the humans are unaware how prevalent a threat vampires and werewolves have become in modern space travel.

Hmm. This really is quite bad.

“The radiation shields stop you from dying,” I explain. “No. Radiation only kills the impure of spirit.” “It appears you have drastically misunderstood the nature of radiation.”

fishy fucker!

To borrow a human expression: fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. And

AGNUS + ISAAC WERE HERE

“Shut up, bitch. You’re family.”