Yellow lets out a sigh of relief, closing the wiring panel and wiping her forearm against her helmet, as though wiping off a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. She’s finally done. All of her tasks are completed.
She lifts her wrist, glancing at the holographic display that pops up to meet her eyes. At the top of her task list, the green progress bar blinks back at her. It’s almost done, just a few extra tasks, and she can almost guarantee they belong to Red or Cyan, both of whom she’d caught slacking off in the cafeteria an hour prior. Dusting off her hands, she turns around to head into the hall to check on her crewmates and monitor their progress.
Worst case scenario, she’ll be greeted with corpses. They already found Pink, ripped in half in Medbay, and that’s when they realized the company warning wasn’t just for shits. Every single space crew has had an issue with infiltrating alien species that work from the inside. Somehow, they manage to slip on board and assimilate without anyone noticing. Some crews win, using their wits and ejecting those who don’t quite slip far enough under the radar. Those get to go back to their families. Some, however, aren’t as lucky.
Yellow hopes they manage to be the former.
Out of the corner of her eye, shadows dance, and Yellow’s heart skips a beat as she glances into the darkness. She can hear the air rushing from that direction, and the knowledge that she was just preoccupied in a room with a vent so close to her gives her chills. She watches for a moment more before deciding that the best course of action would be to just leave the room and group up with her other crewmates before she gets picked off. Being alone makes her an easier target.
She and Blue were hanging together a while ago, so she knows he’s a safe bet. Steeling her nerves, she lifts her foot to take a step--
--and hears the metallic rattle of the vent popping open.
She immediately turns back, pointing her flashlight at the culprit, breath catching in her throat.
Green. She should’ve known. She hadn’t seen him virtually all day.
His body contorts at the sudden light, halfway out of the vent, and he lets out a sharp hiss at her. Anyone with half a brain would’ve taken this opportunity to make a break for it.
Yellow isn’t the smartest crewmate aboard.
“ You, ” Green snarls, and she watches with an increasing sense of despair as Green pulls the rest of his body out of the vent. “You’re dead. ”
Yellow squeaks and nearly slips on her ass as her shoe slides across the tile floor on her way out, Green hot on her tail. Her first thought is to meet up with someone else, but that would only result in more casualties. The only destination she can escape to, the one that will ensure her crew’s safety, is the cafeteria. The Emergency button is to only be pushed in emergencies, and she’s pretty sure that catching one of her crewmates crawl out of a vent like a wet rat classified as an emergency.
Yellow cuts a corner tight, nearly sliding into the wall, and she hears the impact of Green not quite being as fortunate as her. The fumble gives her an extra few feet of lead, and she uses all the strength in her body to push herself farther, faster, harder towards the button.
She peels out into the cafeteria and almost cheers in joy as she approaches the button. She made it. She made it.
A yelp rips from her throat when something snags her spacesuit, and she trips over her own feet as the sound of tearing fabric fills the air.
Red consumes her vision. It takes a second for her to register the words:
WARNING! OXYGEN LEAK DETECTED!
She could cry as she propels herself forward on her elbows, toes of her boots slipping in her desperation as she uses her failure to stand as a means to go forward. The table is five feet away. Footsteps approach from behind, slowly, like a predator watching their prey. Her vision hazes through the thick swell of tears, and she can’t tell if her inability to catch her breath is from her rapidly depleting oxygen or from her own mania.
Yellow decides it’s a bit of both as she finally kicks herself to her feet, stumbles, and crashes into the table.
The button is guarded by a plastic lid, and Yellow reaches to rip it off, poising her other hand to slam the button down as she bites back a sob. There’s nothing Green can do now. He’s done. H-- It’s done? What even is he?
Her voice is pulled out of her in a pained gasp when claws suddenly sink into her exposed flesh. The hands on her hips are large and clawed , digging into her skin. The sharp pain no doubt means blood.
“Go ahead,” Green’s voice, distorted, strained, gaudy hisses in her ear as something slimy, writhing, alive teases between her thighs. “Hit the button.”
A chill runs down her spine as she presses her hand onto the lid. Green chuckles, deep, beside her. She’s too afraid to look. Her fingers fumble on the lid before she lifts it. The button is the color of blood.
At the same time, something teases her entrance, and she lets out a chirp of surprise as her blood runs cold. Whatever ripped her suit open had really ripped everything open.
Distantly, she knows she can make this stop. She can hit the button, and Green would have no choice but to back off. The warning in front of her blinks a few times before it’s revised.
WARNING! OXYGEN LEVELS LOW! ESTIMATED TIME REMAINING: 3 MINUTES
She lets out a pitiful whine as her arm gives out, and subsequently slams the lid back closed. The… thing hums.
“Good girl. Your oxygen is running out, isn’t it…? I wonder… if we can make it run out faster.”
“No,” she chokes, and something prods at her opening again. She whimpers in response, closing her thighs as tight as she can. “Stop…”
Green’s nails dig into her hips again before releasing her, and her head spins in surprise. Was he really going to…?
But no, she has to bite back the noise that threatens to cry out of her when his hands close around her thighs, thumbs ripping into her soft flesh as he violently pries her legs apart. Wetness begins to weep openly down her legs, and she knows, immediately, that it’s blood.
“Be a good little human and stop fighting,” Green tells her in a hushed murmur, almost sounding sweet if it weren’t for the deep wounds he was inflicting on her, “or else I may hurt you.”
“Just kill me,” she begs through a sob, and he coos in her ear as what she can only assume to be his dick begins to rub itself against her again.
“If you keep asking me all pretty like that,” he begins, leaning his weight a little more onto her, and she blacks out for a moment when she realizes that there’s not just one something between his legs, but what appears to be three . When he pushes closer, one of them rubs directly between her lips as the other two massage gently against her inner thighs, “I may just have to.”
They feel like tentacles, she notes distantly, struggling to keep focus.
He pulls back a bit and she can’t stop the twitch her body gives as all of his dicks move with him. Once he’s pulled back enough, one of them tease at her entrance again, and she clenches every muscle in her body.
“Kill me,” she repeats softly, voice cracking. “Please, kill me.”
He hums, a deep guttural sound, and she gasps as he finally slips inside. It’s not much, maybe half an inch, but she’s hyperaware of the feeling, and she clenches harder, pushing her body against the table.
“Ah-ah,” he tuts, pulling her back and, as a result, pushing even farther into her. She bites back the moan that threatens to spill out of her throat. “None of that now. I would hate to end our fun here.”
“This isn’t--” she starts, voice high, and her throat closes as he thrusts gently against her, slowly splitting her on his girth. The sensation of his two other tentacles spasming gently against her only tunes her in more to the burn making its way through her sex. “This isn’t fun, ” she bites, fingers clenching around the plastic box, her other hand gripping the side of the table. “This is torture. ”
“Oh, your dirty talk is wild, honey,” he sneers, and her vision whites as he bottoms out. One of his hands leaves her hips in order to cup her helmet, pushing it upwards and, as a result, making her crane her neck towards the ceiling. The angle makes it harder to breathe, as if she wasn’t struggling with that enough as it was. “You are a delight, ” he tells her, and she cries out when he digs his claws into the fabric around her neck, penetrating all the way through and into her neck. “Ah, this almost makes me want to rethink killing you,” he purrs, pulling his hips away before snapping them forward. Yellow jostles against the table with a whine.
With all the force she can muster, she reaches up with a hand, wrapping it around his wrist and pushing it further against her neck. He lets out a noise of surprise as his claws sink, effortlessly, into the skin of her neck. “Do it,” she croaks.
He snarls against her ear and suddenly her face is pressed into the table as he thrusts into at a near breakneck speed. She grits her teeth to avoid letting out a single sound, but no matter how hard she tries, she can’t keep back the scream that tears from her chest when he pulls back, and suddenly he’s two-times bigger . She can tell, instantly, that it’s not just one tentacle reentering her now- it’s two. Which means that he plans to put all three inside of her.
The warning alerts her that she only has a minute and 43 seconds left. She’s really starting to feel it, now, the corners of her vision fuzzing, and she struggles to get any amount of air in her lungs.
“God, you’re so good,” Green praises above her, and she feels sick. Bile burns its way up her throat, but she holds it back, swallows thickly around it. She can’t breathe. Can’t concentrate.
When he pushes in with all three, she feels her throat vibrate through a whine, and his hand lets up from her neck in order to grab her hips again. The lack of adequate air somehow heightens her awareness of the pleasure spiking through her body.
Yellow never imagined dying a slow death, but this was, by far, the worst of anything she could’ve possibly imagined.
Her orgasm hits her by surprise, reducing her to a babbling, spasming mess, and it’s on a second plain of reality that she feels him empty himself inside of her.
She can’t even catch her breath. When he pulls away, she’s hyperaware of the feeling of liquid seeping down her thighs. Using two fingers, he pushes her labia aside, and her body gives a weak jump when something long, thin, and wet pushes inside of her.
His tongue, her brain supplies weakly. It has to be his tongue.
Breathing comes harder, now, because of course it did. Less than a minute left.
She reaches back, pawing her hand in the air, and she earns a curious sound when she makes contact with him.
“Kill me,” she repeats, voice soft and grainy, and he sighs, placing his hand on her lower back.
“Beg for it.”
She turns, slowly, grabbing at him again and getting his arm. “Please. I beg of you, Green. Kill me. Please.”
When he leans down to meet her gaze, she sees his face through the helmet. He really looks human, she notes, but when he blinks, it’s not with eyelids. A nictitating membrane. He really is an alien.
“Anything for you, love.”
At first, there’s darkness. Then there’s light. Then… there’s everything.
Pink is there to meet her. The look on his face is… well, Yellow doesn’t allow herself to study it for long.
Glancing down, she sees her body. She also sees Green hovering over it. For a second, he cradles her head in his hands. She wills herself to move. She does. It’s like she’s floating, she realizes, and even when she stops moving, her body slides a few more inches.
She can’t see Green’s face through the glare on his helmet, but, in that moment, she’s glad she can’t.
She learns, rather quickly, that’s not his real face, anyway.
His stomach rips open, revealing rows of sharp teeth and an endless cavern of flesh and darkness, and he bites her body in half.
Yellow feels nothing at the sight. It’s rather odd, actually. She knows that’s her. That was her. But that’s not her anymore.
That would be her never again.