The bloody sea. The disgusting land. Vacem had no memories of a home, a crew, a world. The only thing he could remember was a name: Yabaneth. And an incomprehensible truth: he had died. And yet, here he was, walking along this sanguine shore. The scent of decaying flesh was a constant companion––now mixed with the coppery tang of the blood-sea. His mind was a blank slate, scrubbed clean of everything but a hollow, profound emptiness. He walked without direction––without hope, just to drain his energy. He walked continuously for hours, for days, for what felt like an eternity. He didn't feel tired, not even a little bit. He was a ghost walking in a world of flesh.
On the edge of this vast coast, the landscape shifted, rising into a series of hills and cliffs. The ground wasn't rock, but a horrifying tapestry of old, solidified flesh and immense, bleached bones that jutted out like the ribs of a primordial beast. Here, the hills were inhabited by giant, twitching creatures. They looked like barnacles, but were made of hardened flesh–– twitching with a strange, synchronous rhythm that echoed the throb of the land itself. Vacem walked over there, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch one. The texture was rough, cold, and slightly moist. A low, hissing sound came from behind him. It was a new sound––distinct from the rhythmic sucking of the tentacles above.
Vacem, who had tried to maintain his sanity up to this point, slowly turned his head. His movements were mechanical, a slow, agonizing pivot of his body. He felt a deep sense of dread. He saw it. A figure, human-like in form, lunged from a crevice between the fleshy barnacles. The last thing Vacem saw before a crushing darkness took him was a man-like figure in a torn uniform, its face a swirling vortex of shadow. A sudden, jarring impact slammed into the back of his head––causing his helmet to strike a jagged piece of bone and shatter the glass of the visor, then he fell unconscious.
Vacem regained consciousness. But now he was no longer on the bloody beach. He was in a small, damp space, his body bound by bloody tentacles made of flesh. The filaments were incredibly sticky, coiling around his limbs and torso, making any movement impossible. He was trapped. Then, a shadowy figure of a man appeared before him. The figure was cloaked in darkness, but the silhouette was all too familiar.
"Michel?... That... You?.." Vacem's voice was a weak, trembling whisper.
The shadowy figure of Michel moved closer. The darkness on its face swirled, but Vacem could feel the weight of its gaze. "Why you... Why did this happen..." The voice was not Michel's, but a distorted, deep resonance that echoed throughout the claustrophobic space.
Vacem's voice cracked with regret and exhaustion. "I... I... I didn't understand it would be like this... Please help me... I... Alone... I am alone... Why... Why must it be me..."
The shadow of Michel moved away, turning its back to Vacem. "Vacem... From the start... I've been uncomfortable with this... thing. I-"
"The moon's orbit is off. The accident. This damn place... I... Just want to go back to reality... I'm tired of all this... But... Everyone doesn't allow me to get tired..." Vacem interrupted, his voice laced with a raw, visceral fatigue that was at odds with the strange lack of physical exhaustion he'd felt earlier.
"So... You want to go out?" The shadow of Michel replied, its finger pointing at Vacem, a gesture of accusation.
Before Vacem could answer, the shadow suddenly roared in a deep, guttural voice that shook the very ground. "Then... Go!" it shouted.
Vacem jumped in surprise, the ties of flesh tentacles snapping as he landed with a thud on a hard surface. The shadowy figure was gone. He was alone again. "Have I gone crazy..." Vacem groaned, looking down at his hands. He was still wearing the torn astronaut suit. Then, he heard heavy footsteps coming from behind him. He flinched, a jolt of fear shooting through his spine, and immediately turned around. As he did, a figure struck him again, a heavy blow to the back of his helmet––sending cracks spider-webbing across the remaining visor.
"Ugh... Where am I..." Vacem regained consciousness and found himself inside a cave, its walls slick with a foul, red mucus. The air was thick with the scent of blood and decay. Outside, a red storm was brewing, like a sandstorm, but composed of crimson motes and thick, viscous fluids. From the depths of the cave, someone approached him. Vacem, acting on a desperate impulse, pretended to faint again, closing his eyes and relaxing his body. The person walked to him and knelt down, the sound of their heavy footfalls ceasing. He felt a cold, sticky sensation on the back of his head, where his helmet was cracked. The person was not touching his flesh directly, but was running a finger along the shattered visor and the mangled metal of his helmet, as if applying some kind of ointment. After a moment, a sudden, sharp slap across Vacem's face and a voice, deep and gravelly, said, "I already knew you were awake... Don't lie to me... It's worse than dying out there..."
Vacem immediately got up and backed away, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Wh-who are you?" he said shakily, his left hand gripping the slick cave wall for support. He saw the figure as someone with a tall, large build wearing a white robe that was wrinkled and left with dirty red stains. The figure just remained silent, then approached Vacem. He aimed his hand at Vacem's head. Vacem tried to move––but his body felt as if it were being held down by an invisible force, freezing him in place. He felt the sensation of his body being pressed from all directions to prevent him from moving even a little. However, before the figure's hand could touch him, Vacem's body suddenly broke free from the invisible grip, a brief jolt of defiance. The figure looked confused and slightly agitated by this.
Instantly, Vacem ran out, breaking through the bloody storm. However, it... torn his body apart. He was shattered into pieces by the crimson whirlwind.
"Huh! What just happened!?" Vacem somehow returned to the position he was in before the figure approached him, still lying down in the cave. Instantly, Vacem stood up and ran deeper into the cave. He approached the figure who was pounding something with a heavy object.
Without thinking, Vacem slammed his fist into the figure's head. His astronaut suit, heavy and cumbersome––hindered his movements somewhat, but the blow was forceful. The figure slammed into the cave wall, until lying on the surface. Vacem ran to hit him again, but before that could happen, the figure extended a hand with very long bone claws from its face and stabbed Vacem.
"Ugh…" Vacem moaned, his mouth starting to bleed. His cracked astronaut helmet was no match for the claws. The figure then said to Vacem, "Don't do that, it will only make your future worse." Before Vacem died.
"Huh?! What actually happened..." Vacem woke up again, now he was in the cave, lying exactly in the position where he had first experienced the incident.
Realizing he had experienced a repeat of the incident, Vacem, without thinking, tested it again by quickly getting up and running outside, leaving himself torn to shreds again in the midst of the bloody storm.
Vacem was shocked and immediately got up from where he was lying, returning to the exact same position he had been in. His body was completely intact again. With this, thinking there was no other choice, Vacem chose to follow what would happen next.
The figure appeared and rubbed something on the back of his cracked helmet. He was then slapped and told that the figure knew he was conscious. Unlike before, Vacem woke up, but he didn't panic; he was calm. A cold, terrifying calm settled over him.
"You've learned, huh..." The figure said. As if he understood what had just happened and what had happened before that to Vacem.
"Y-you know?" Vacem asked, his voice trembling behind his cracked helmet. He tilted his head slightly.
"It is something that a creature like you cannot contain... Vacem" The figure said, his back to Vacem, busy with something.
"H-how do you know my name?" Vacem asked, his voice shaking.
"It's on your clothes." The figure replied, calmly.
"Yeah, that's right..." Vacem looked at his nametag on his astronaut suit, a relic of a life he could no longer grasp. "How could I forget that..."
"And... What do you mean if I can't understand it?" Vacem asked, standing up cautiously.
"What he means is... You're... Too... Fragile... It... Can... Make You... Explode... Boom." The figure answered casually, its voice unnervingly flat.
The figure rose to his feet, then turned to Vacem. He opened his hood. Revealing a pale, white face. No face–– just small holes can make people with Trypophobia faint just by looking at it.
"What kind of creature are you?!" Vacem suddenly jumped in surprise and fell back, his terror a raw, primal scream in his throat. The figure remained silent, approaching Vacem calmly.
The figure tried to touch Vacem's face, with hands and fingers the color of dark blood and unnervingly pointed. Before that happens...
The surface of the cave floor cracked, releasing a blinding light that enveloped Vacem and the figure. The cave was instantly destroyed.
Vacem opened his eyes again; he was in the middle of the ruins of the cave. The figure from earlier was now lying limp on the surface, his body visibly cracked, and his robes torn.
Until... Another figure appeared. He had a large build with a pair of large deer antlers, his body was dark as emptiness, his face was flat, like a smooth, featureless mask. The new figure walked towards the previous figure, grabbing his neck with an effortless grip. Just then, the surface cracked again, accompanied by a powerful earthquake, causing Vacem to stagger. Light shot out from the explosion, destroying the entire surface. Before Vacem could be shattered by the shockwave, the figure who was gripping the previous figure turned to look at him, its faceless visage seeming to stare directly into his soul.
Vacem woke up again, he felt his heart beating fast. He is now floating in the middle of a very empty and dark place. Without any light source.
"What else is this..." Vacem complained, his voice a weary sigh. He just let himself float freely with no direction, his mind numb from the relentless cycle of death and rebirth.
Then, his body felt a profound pressure, it felt like Vacem was being pulled from above, front, back, right-left, below. He screamed, a final, guttural cry of terror, before his body finally exploded.
...
"I like him…"
"Okay... He's next" A dark figure looked at one of the many picture panels. Looking at one of the panels shows Vacem whose body is now completely destroyed in the midst of darkness.