Meta-Post Exploratoring This Blog - (Feel Free To Ask Me Questions or Make Suggestions of Topics)

     Hi, folks! Just wanted to say hi and update a few things.

     Firstly I want to say there will basically never be update posts like this, it is simply that time constraints have caused me to change up how I approach the blog, so I have had to post-bone today's post to Sunday.

     That is to say that from now on, the blog posts will be posted weekly every Sunday. These will be the main posts, the exploratoring posts, the good and researched ones. Wednesday will still be my other posting day, but it might not be every Wednesday that something is up. When something does appear on Wednesday it will either be ongoing journal posts such as Tales From the Sunless Sea, or real-world exploratoring that might also be ongoing. These posts are to keep up content but are less important and targeted at my main audience.

     On Sunday will be the follow up to my Bloodborne post about the Lovecraft ties, so keep up with that. Other than that I wanted to say thank you for joining me for a successful launch of this blog. While I have had very few comments on the actual blog, the feedback I have been getting elsewhere has been really great and I've had a few posts hit over 1000 views, so that is fantastic.

     My only hopes are that you will anyone seeing one of my posts might stick around to check out more of them, and perhaps get a feel that they like my blog. Once I have 4-5 months of startup time I will open up a Pateron and perhaps put a few adverts in the side bars, but not so much that it will overwhelm - because if I could make some money from this, that would be amazing and I could spend more time focusing on making the best possible content!

     Now, I also know that so far almost all of my content has been about video games, but it won't always be. I have a few books, TV shows and films in the pipeline to discuss, including a potential segment looking at adaptations and why one is better than the other. So if you've been checking out some of my stuff but aren't massively into video games - please stick around!

     The other thing I wished to say is as it says in the title - please do make suggestions. Anything you think is interesting enough for a deeper analysis is something I could add to my list and if it is recommended, then I am happy to prioritise it for you. So if there is a game, film, book, etc. that you really like, feel free to throw a suggestion my way and I'll see what I can do. Alternatively if you wish to as me any questions about pretty much literally anything, I will always reply - and if my reply is good enough or I get a bunch of questions at once, I could always use that to fill in a Wednesday post where I would otherwise have no content. So don't be shy!

     Also, I am available for hire fairly cheap if you would like my help on any work, either proofreading or want something written for you. I know my current posts are not in the most exemplary form with regard to proofreading (which is one reason I'm focusing on one a week rather than two a week from now on - higher quality) but if you check out my short story portfolio to the right hand side of the page, they are a better example. All you have to do is ask, and I look forward to working with you.

     Thank you so much for reading and remember: some may explore, but I explorator!

Something In The Wall

    The first couple of weeks in a new house, you have to get accustomed to so many things. Little differences that scatter your day, jarring you from a certain status quo. As I eased my way around the fresh house that day, I made a point of taking note of the little things that stood out. My partner was away on business for another two weeks, leaving me to learn the ins and outs on my own, which was fine by me – I relished the personal time. Without too many new furnishings decided upon, the place was sparse. Naturally, I spent a good twenty minutes dancing around the free space, in a way only I could. It helps to get to know the place.

     There are other things than just the décor to get used to though. The speed of the taps, for example, or the springiness of a new bed. The general feel of the place; the atmosphere of the way the sun shines during the day, and the specific noises in the night. Especially the noises in the night.

     It had been a long day moving a load of stuff, so I decided to have an early bed time, around nine thirty, and it wasn't until around eleven that night when I was woken. A banging and a struggle sounding from downstairs that felt utterly frantic. It was accompanied by some kind of raised voice and I figured it was just my luck for next door to have a domestic, and ruin my first special sleep in the new place. It continued for a fair while, but I managed to drift off again – although I'd barely woken up at all – and slept through the night.

     I woke, startled as to where I was, naturally. Then followed that first proper breath of fresh air that felt like the joy of a new beginning, a fresh start to a long and happy next part of my life. It wasn't until around midday I thought about those strange sounds I had heard from my bed, and then it came to my attention that I did not even have neighbours. When I remembered that the place was detached, a shiver ran up my spine. I really didn't want to disturb my partner on business, so I just left a message instead. Though, it was just one time, so I forgot about the odd noises until later that night.

     It was around eleven when I heard the first thud. I was walking through the living room and a dull boom engulfed the silent space, definitely coming from the wall. I stepped closer to examine the wall, and it happened again, a stirring feeling built up inside of me. I knocked on the wall, not sure whether I'd be happy or not to hear the scattering of rats, then the thing in the wall screamed at me. A muffled screaming of someone with their mouth clamped shut burst from the wall accompanied by the urgent thudding, as if whatever was inside wanted to get out.

     Adrenaline was the only thing that carried me out of my house, hyperventilating and totally not in control of myself. After an hour, having calmed somewhat, and no replies on my phone, I realised that I would need to go back into the house. If I could just sleep through the night and sort it out in the morning, though I don't know what I could do. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep through either the adrenaline, or periodic screams of someone trapped, and eventually I couldn't take it any more. I got up at around three in the morning, sought out a claw hammer that I had only unpacked that day, and readied myself for the wall to wail again.

     The second I heard the thing in the wall scream, I screamed with it in retaliation. I wrenched my arms back and struck a small chip into the plaster wall with my hammer. It wasn't enough. I smashed the same spot again and again until there was a visible hole, and the screaming stopped. An eerie nothing embraced the room, I approached the hole, no larger than a once folded post-it note, and cautiously looked inside. The room's light didn't give much illumination, so I grabbed a torch. Flashing the light inside, everything was still. Cracked lips smiled at me. I panicked and fell and everything went black.

     When I woke, I woke in shock. I tried to look around, but my head felt completely restricted. Everything was pitch black and my throat was dry, though my arms had a certain amount of freedom. I balled my hand and punched forwards, my fist met with a dull thud. I started hyperventilating, scratching the back of the plaster, and screamed the muffled scream of a mouth contained.

Letter To A Princess

           The tavern in question was exactly as it said on the sign: 'The Wood and Wood Inn'; where absolutely everything was wooden, from the cutlery to the windows.

           “How... how am I meant to win her heart?” Vitras wondered. “Her dad'll find a real man soon, so I need to take my chance now!” The tavern was quieter than he was used to, though at quarter past four in the morning, it was to be expected. How could he sleep when so pressed for time to catch his beloved's eye? But for the life of him, he could think of nothing he could do. He slammed his fist onto the table in frustration, making the only other customer in the tavern bolt awake, removing his sodden face from his grog, only to fall back to sleep with a splash.

           Vitras shot the lonely gent a dirty glance and stumbled towards the door ready to leave and find somewhere a little quieter. He paused to think of where to go. Vitras travelled around often, (using the title 'adventurer' where others used the term 'unemployed') yet the only place Vitras could imagine calling home was a small town named Lindell. Of all the backward towns he could like so much, he chose the one where he stood out like cactus amongst baby bums. For a male to have badly cut long brunette hair, it potentially made him a laughing stock – he however called it a trademark and figured it added to his many brilliant traits. At this moment, however, his mind was full of more than just how handsome he was, it was also full of the noble girl he wished to endear to.

           The floor was damp as Vitras stepped outside, mug in hand; he decided he'd head towards a place he knew as 'Rock', which was a place he could think quietly. Being such a travelling rogue, few would think him fond of a girl, so he craved solitude and 'Rock' was perfect for that.

           “Hey, bring my bloody glass back!” The barman burst out of the door of The Wood and Wood (which, if you weren't already aware, was made completely of wood) and snatched the mug from Vitras' hand, locking him with an icy cold stare. “Thief.”

                                                       * * *

           'Rock' was a stand alone boulder on a small hill just by the shore. It was still dark and not particularly warm, though it was as beautiful as always – especially as the sun would soon rise on the perfectly clear horizon. Vitras found himself perched up on the edge of the boulder facing the ocean before he even knew he was there, and whilst feeling the chilly breeze over his hands and cheeks and through his hair, a wet piece of paper slapped him in his face and stuck to him.

           Peeling off the note and wiping his face, he saw writing on the page. The note stated:

           “To whom it may concern,

           I am stuck in a large hole in the sand on the beach and cannot get out. Help me! Help me, please! I would very much appreciate a search party or perhaps a lone traveller with a rope, anything really to help me out of this hole. I am quite scared as the tide seems to be coming in hastily.

           Thank you for reading.

           Yours,

           Julie”

           The sun began to peek over the horizon and Vitras was silhouetted on the boulder with chin on fist and deep in thought.

           “I have it!” Vitras shouted, letting go of the note. “I'll write a letter to my love!” He jumped down from the rock and headed his way towards the Noble’s castle to the east of town: he needed to get help. He could not write to save his life. Or read to save someone else's. He ignored the note.

                                                       * * *

           On the hour long walk to the castle the sun had already risen with a bright cheery face screaming: 'Wakey, wakey! Rise and shine! Full day ahead!' which seemed to be the alarm for most nobles, meaning they had all recently got up to go about their business. From the outside everything seemed mostly quiet aside from chirping birds; happy because the crickets had shut up.

           Swimming a moat and scaling a wall was pretty easy for Vitras, it was always the other side that troubled him. His head made the first loud noise he'd heard all morning when it thumped against an upper room floor. The window he had climbed through seemed to be unnaturally high and as his vision focused he found himself in a bedroom, one that seemed to have been designed by an overly expressive fairy with a fetish for pink.

Brushing himself off, he heard speeding footsteps outside the room and figured someone was about to burst in – not knowing what else to do, he dove under the bed. The bed was only just roomy enough for one person, but he had to crouch a tiny bit to save his head poking out the top. The duvet hung over the edges so he felt safe enough but had to rely on sound. What followed was this: Rattle, shuffle, shuffle, scrape, shuffle, step, step, pause, bump, much louder shuffle, roll, roll. The next thing was feeling someone press tight up against his left hand side.

           Looking over and sharing a few seconds of staring before the girl spoke.

           “...Hey, who are you hiding from?”

           “Umm, you?” Vitras said before a further few seconds of staring.

           “Ahhhhh!” They both yelled at the top of their voices and scurried out from under the bed. Vitras ran out the room, still screaming and down a flight of stairs. He got quieter as he went an turned into a room before finding himself in a corner.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he opened one eye and turned around. He was surrounded by books and peering down at him was a hunched and hairy old man in extravagant clothing.

           “Are you okay?” said the man in a very posh accent muffled by a beard.

           “What? Yes. I was, um, just trying to get some bloody attention!” He nodded at himself reassuringly “ ...Yeah, that's what I was doing.” Rushing to his feet and standing as defensively as possible realising that he was a fair bit taller than the elderly man.

           “And wearing clothes like that in a place like this isn't attention enough?” the old man chuckled. “Why are you here then? What kind of attention are you trying to gain? People tend not to run screaming through a library for no reason... usually.”

           “Oh you look the bookish type!” said Vitras.

           “That's not an answer.” He looked over each shoulder at all the surrounding shelves of books after books. “Though I can't imagine how you came to that idea?”

           “I need your help then, can you help me?”

           “...Still not an answer, young man. I'll help you if you answer the questions I need to know.” He rubbed his long straggly beard. “Firstly, what is your name? Next, what is your occupation? How did you get into the castle? Why were you screaming and what do you need help with?”

           “I, um...” Vitras took a moment to note all of the questions in order. “Vitras. I'm a... free-lance jack-of-all-trades. I got into the castle by asking really nicely. I was screaming because there was some girl in her room. I need help to write a letter as soon as possible. Can you write at all, and is there somewhere more... quiet and proper we can go? It's getting creepy in here.” They both looked around the room at the hundred-odd surprised eyes beading their way. The old man raised his bushy eyebrows that almost knocked off his hat, and laughed.

           “The name is Cyrl.” He offered his hand, which Vitras gave a curious look, unsure what to do. “Follow me, if you please.” He dropped his hand. The man span around and waddled slowly towards the door. Vitras, in order to look casual to the peering eyes, leaned back in his walk, trying to act confident, and trying to look like he owned the place. It would have worked, too, if he didn't trip half way and tumble to the floor like someone kicked a rag doll.

                                                       * * *

           Cyrl turned out to be quite an important person, as he was the grandfather of the man who married the Queen's cousin, once removed. For all Cyrl's skill in writing and how helpful he was, Vitras couldn't help but feel the minutes were like hours. Whilst Cyrl tried to find all the right words for something sweet and suited to Vitras, Vitras himself attempted (sort of) to learn to read.

           There were so many books in the old man's private library, there was no knowing where to begin. Everything seemed to be there from a book called 'A Short History Of Ducks: Volume 4' to something called 'The Karma Sutra For Dummies'.

           Cyrl asked many many questions about preferences and ability and what he wanted the tone to be, and Vitras using words from the books tried to write something of his own. Using an alphabet book he'd just used to learn some letters, he wrote: 'A is for Apple, which is juicy like you. B is for 'Be mine', because I want you. C is for... Cat.' Which is only one example of Vitras' work. The others were so badly written and occasionally horrid, that when a boy broke into Cyrl's study a week later and went through his paper bin in order to steal something brilliant for a school project, he vomited in his mouth twice and vowed never to read again.

           After three long hours of writing, Vitras agreed on a note of Cyrl's that was good enough, poetic enough and had a point, he loved it:

           “If I could dream any dream, I would choose you to be my dream, but a dream you will always be if you never consider meeting me. If I wrote how much I loved you on this paper here, I would run out of pages to write of you, my dear. So if I had to choose a place to meet for romance's sake, I would ask you to meet me at twelve by the lake.”

           “Brilliant, I'll just leave it for her to find.” Said Vitras.

           “I could do better with more time, y'know. Let us just pretend those are your words.” Cyrl said, putting on his top hat and giving Vitras a lopsided wink like a large hairy dog.            “Though one last question my lad. Who is this lady you're perusing?”

           “Her name is Leanna. Lives in the royal village, just outside this castle, y'know her?”

           “The Princess?” Cyrl choked. He regained his composure. “Well, good luck then I guess.” He rolled his eyes before giving Vitras another dog-wink.

                                                       * * *

           Downstairs at the ground level, the lobby was bustling with activity; scattered people all going their separate ways. Looking down at his own clothes, Vitras could see he clearly didn't fit in. He decided to try to mingle and head out the main gate, anyway. The exit was two massive wooden doors with smaller people-sized doors in the middle of each. In front of the only operating door were two fully iron clad guards. They were going to be a problem, but the door was his aim and that's the direction he headed.

           Casually mingling with the crowd, Vitras got all the way to the door and placed his hand on the handle as if to stroll out before a voice stopped him, it was the guard to his right. Both guards, however, were motionless and looked directly ahead.

           “Can we 'elp you, sir?”

           “Not really, I'm just on my way out!”

           “Well, may we ask 'ow you got in? Peasant.” Said the left hand guard. The 'Y' shaped gap in their helmets were now fixated on Vitras, and he could feel their eyes rather than see them.

           “Err, I came in earlier in the morning, don't you remember? You didn't say a word then. Or were their different guards on, you all look alike, to me.” Vitras continued to act as cocky as possible. “If it was you, you must have some awful memories, I mean look at the way I'm dressed – you'd think you'd remember!”

           “Careful now, peasant. We don't 'ave to stall this, you could be going right in to the dungeon. We wouldn't let the likes o' you in, so 'ow did you get in?”

           “Well I didn't sneak in, if that's what you think. How dare you! May I take my leave now?” Vitras said to the left guard, who nodded to the right guard who shook his head.

           “Not 'til we get an answer, peasant.” was the reply.

           “Well, even if I did sneak in, surely it's fine for me to just sneak back... out?” Vitras grabbed the door and pushed but the lock held tight. He panicked and backed away from the guards who began to move in towards him. Pushing some passers-by who had gathered to see the commotion, Vitras leapt towards the guards, clambering over one of them and jumping off his head to get purchase on the wall behind. The crowd started making a lot of noise but Vitras didn't look back, he pushed forward on a vertical sea of stone as fast as he could to get to the window at the top. The crowd started to throw things at the escapee-spider, but not one person actually hit him: bits of potato, stones, a book, a fish and an anvil which severely dented the wall.

           Reaching his foot through the kicked open window, he followed through with the other and managed to keep his footing for the descent: better than usual. But after a very short distance he managed to misplace his footing for the second time that day and fell.            Managing to grab onto the lip of the large gate on the outside, he knew he was closer to the ground, regaining himself he made the extra distance and place both feet firmly on the outer drawbridge. Turning around to leave, he came to an abrupt stop at two metal plates.            Looking up, he squeaked at the guards.

           “Ehh, hi?” before each guard grabbed an arm and dragged him back through the now open door. Thrashing about wildly, he realised he could not resist the oafs of security so he sat back and allowed himself to be dragged into the dungeon. After a few seconds, however, he realised he was no longer in possession of his love letter.

           The beautiful note, on beautifully indestructible paper, tied with a beautiful red ribbon gently drifted down the moat towards the river's opening. Vitras was never to know.

                                                       * * *

           “It's so peaceful and romantic here.” Leanna said to herself, sat on a bench by the lake at some time around quarter past twelve.

           The sky could be seen reflected in the water that was shimmering on top and cloudy underneath and about as deep as a house in the middle. It was so shiny on the surface, that the reflection of the moonlight could blind and eagle, and for all the lake was worth, it was as deceiving as an onion painted red to pretend to be an apple.

           People liked to believe their lake was magical. That in the middle was a Sphinx that would ask riddles to passers-by and occasionally fight with the Kraken of the depths for territory as thousands of fish watched on; feeding on the faeries that flew atop the water. As if sparkles fluttered about and it could grant mystical powers such as healing or shape-shifting. None of this was true, however, and everyone knew so. The lake was dead; full of salt, so potent that a human could barely dip in their toe without it dissolving.

           Nevertheless, people loved their lake because it was theirs, it was beautiful, and it was a perfect place for a romantic meeting.

           Leanna, a nice, beautiful young maiden, was watching the wonderful waters when a small piece of paper, wrapped in a ribbon, happened to float by. Being careful of the water, she fished it out and read the note.

           “This is beautiful! Was this for me? It must have been because this would be far too much of a coincidence. I would certainly like to meet this person who is likely to be so very unsuited to me, but I will persuade my father anyway so that we can get married and have lots of middle class children – oh my!” She looked all around the lake to see if anyone was nearby before sitting back down on the bench. She rolled up the scroll and patiently started to wait. Prepared to wait for the man, for the writer of the note; just waiting for her love to arrive. If only he knew.

Maiden Of The Sea

           To see such a creature right before my eyes filled me with so many feelings. A feeling of shock, of worry and of awe. The gleam of that, who some would name a beast, reflected the sun to look as if to glow. A sight to behold that I'll never forget.

           I never wanted to lose the sight of it. Yet, I never wanted it to catch sight of me. That was the feeling of fear. Fear of what it might do; fear that it may leave and never come back.

                                                                  * * *

           October 12^th, 1814. My sixteenth birthday. I had woken up to a still dark sky. The earliest a morning could be, to me. My uncle was visiting my mother and I at our bungalow by the sea and he had promised to take me beachcombing.

           When he'd first mentioned beachcombing, I'd never understood it. Then he told me of many jobs that involved beachcombing, and I remember laughing so very hard at the term 'winkle-picker'. But I was only a little boy. He said when I was sixteen he would take me out beachcombing with him – as was his hobby – and suddenly, I became obsessed with the idea.

           I loved the sea. I loved the beach. To live so close was something I adored. But I stuck to a promise and never became a 'beachcomber' until my uncle showed me how. Not that I thought there was much to show. My mother agreed, however, that I shouldn't be going to down to the beach alone until I was of a more reasonable age. As a result, I spent most of my time helping my mum with house work and and visiting my friends during these summer holidays.

           When the time finally came round to it, I had my waders ready and bought a pair of gloves that I didn't wear until I needed them. A thick jumper was needed as it was cold before the sun came up. A bag for my findings. All other tools were carried by my uncle, consisting of a shovel a trowel and a rake. I looked at myself in the mirror with my rake, tall boots, jumper and straggly hair. My mother wasn't awake yet, but if she were, she'd have told me I looked just like my late father.

           The reason beachcombing was so important to my uncle was very much unknown to me. I had never realised the difference between fifteen and sixteen. But I trusted him enough, having looked after me and my mum for so many years after my dad passed away. Now it was almost like he was accepting me as an adult. So with bags and pockets-a-plenty, we left the house to the greyish blue sky of pre-sun mornings.

           It was barely ten minutes later to walk around the cliff edge and find our way down to the beach way. We were upwind for most of the journey to smell to strong sea breeze. Our beach was not as fine sand as they have on other beaches, but fine enough for rocks and pebbles to be scattered at distances. I stopped at the edge of the beach, looked up at my uncle and smiled. Speaking above the roar of the sea, he smiled back, wishing me a happy birthday.

           We watched the ground. Looking for something shiny was the best, but anything interesting could be picked up. We made our way systematically across the beach to the edge of the sea and even waded in a little. It wasn't the nicest of days, clouds were heavy but with no threat of rain. My Uncle got out a comb and started scratching the sea with it. I laughed a lot at how silly he looked.

           “What's with you, dear boy? Never seen a man combing the beach before?” He said as dryly as he could and we both shared the moment of laughter. At the time I had thought nothing of it, but out the corner of my eye, what looked like someone popping out of the water caught my attention.

           “Found something, have we?” My uncle asked.

           “Thought I saw something in the water, is all.” Was my reply.

           “Ah, they do have seals around here, my boy. Probably wondering what all the noise was on this morning.” He said as he got up to keep searching.

           I had found a few really nice shells and some drift wood. A vague fishy smell lingered and the tide must have been going out from the darker sand near the shore. We had gotten to a protrusion in the rock of a cliff when there was a little area of sand around the side. Something really made me want to go around there out of pure curiosity.

           “Where are you off?” My uncle exclaimed as I began to wander away from him. I turned.

           “There's a bit around this cliff I would like to search. I don't think I will be long.” I said, as if asking for permission.

           “Well, I wont be able to climb around that, my boy. But I'll be here when you're back. Wouldn't want to stray too far apart.”

           “Okay, thanks.” I smiled and ran to the edge of the rock, climbing round a few pieces that otherwise meant wading into the water up to my chest. After it shallowed I jumped into the sea and found the other bit of land. Then I heard a feather-light humming and peeked around the last piece of rock. There was an alcove beach of richer sand than before and I saw her.

           To see such a creature right before my eyes filled me with so many feelings. A feeling of shock, of worry and of awe. The gleam of she, who some would name a beast, reflected the sun to make her look as if to glow. Simply, she was beautiful.

           I never wanted to lose the sight of her. Yet, I never wanted her to catch sight of me. That was the feeling of fear. Fear of what she might do; fear that she may leave and never come back. She sat, on a rock combing her hair of a tangled mess. And oh what an abundance of hair! It was truly a sight to behold that defied explanation. Her peach coloured skin contrasted against her scaled tail that balanced her around a rock. Flecks of gold, blue, green and silver could be seen to mix a fantastic colour and her voice was soft.

           The shouting waves and cawing gulls seemed to fade into silence. She didn't draw me towards her, but I could not take my eyes away. I had never known these creatures were to exist. Suddenly, she jolted upright and sniffed the air as if she'd caught a scent and her eyes reflected every ounce of fear she owned. Immediately, I thought she had smelt me. I panicked and ran back, I ran around the cliffs splashing cloves of seawater into my mouth and almost tripping on a sea-weed that kept upon my foot. My uncle looked so surprised as my apparent worry spread through him.

           “What is it, what?” He shouted as he took my shoulder in his hand trying to steady me and my darting gaze.

           “I saw this wonderful, thing, uncle. It had a tail and I think it saw me watching it and... and...” As I was saying this I saw my uncle relax and I knew he had no idea. I would not be able to make him believe what I saw as I could not explain it. Something made me keep what I had seen to myself.

           “Boy, seals are nothing to be worried about. They could give you a nasty bite but keeping your distance is wise at any cost. Really gave me a fright, you did!” My uncle tried to calm me. We carried on roaming the sand for another hour with this wonder lingering in my head. My uncle tried to explain to me why he was so worried about me going off on my own.

           “How old were you when your father passed away? Do you remember anything of him?” He asked me. Of which I was only four so had no true memory. “On the day he went missing, he went off to the beach on his own. Wouldn’t tell anyone why, but it was often he decided to go on his own. One day, like in some fairy tale, he never returned.”

           I hadn't said much in reply, but I had never heard this story before. I wondered if what I had seen was the same thing that took my dad, and if searching for something of my father's was why my uncle beachcombed. I was crossed between allure and fear. Walking back into the warmth of home, I hadn't realised how cold I was. After a meal with my mother she had scraped the money together for; a few games and smiles from people at the local village followed and I went to bed. With a present in my mind the likes I couldn't have dreamed.

                                                                  * * *

           Despite a yearning to re-visit her as soon as possible, my uncle didn't leave town again for another three days. I knew he wouldn't let me go alone. So I waited and spent my time with him while he was with us. He was riding to Bristol docks eventually, so wouldn't be back again for a long time.

           Going against his wishes did make me feel bad but, as soon as he left, I went down to the beach. I told my mother that I was going to see some friends in the village and she gave me the usual worried look that she gives whenever I leave home on my own. Times were dangerous, but living so far out of town felt safer than roaming streets at night. Either way, I went out to the beach to find this woman of the sea and after an hour of searching one side of the beach to the other, she was no longer there. I slumped down to the sand in dismay. Of course she wasn't there. Was I expecting her to sit on the rock forever and always be there when I went back? It was a ridicules idea.

           Shifting over to move something uncomfortable from under my bum, I pulled a comb from the ground. It looked just like my uncles comb that we had laughed about the time before. I figured he must have dropped it, so I put it in my pocket and went home.

           It wasn't until I was nearly home and fingering the comb in my pocket that what I had seen sprang to my memory. My uncle had mistaken what I had seen for a seal, but what if it wasn't? What if that was the maiden just then? She must have known we were there. I figured maybe she heard our laughter and come to see what the noise was. I decided there was enough light time left for me to get back down to the beach so I ran to my heart's content in the hope that I could see this creature once again, though not without fear that it might see me. I had no choice.

           I found the spot where we were. I shouted, laughed and thumped as loud as I could and generally caused a disturbance among the sand, kicking up all kinds of smells; covering my boots in wet sand. When I didn't see anything popping up, I realised I should head back before it got dark. Just as I turned around, I dropped the comb I was twiddling and it made a minor splash amongst the incoming tide.

           Bending down to pick up the comb, I saw something move in the corner of my eye, though before I could double take, nothing could be seen. I stayed staring a little longer to no prevail and needed to return home. It was only then when I considered that a comb touching the water might have been the link.

           I decided to leave as it didn't seem like I had much of a chance of seeing anything. But it was as I was walking past another indent in the rock that I heard the beautiful humming. And peering around the corner, her skin gleamed as much as her tail did. This time I really looked at her and, again, it is nothing I can explain to look at. From her nose to her breasts to just below the navel looked so much like the most wonderful human and yet, the tail that clearly held so much power lingered on her lower half.

           I can honestly say at this point that despite the nakedness, there was not a drop of lust. I just wanted to be around her. To look at her. To meet her. A little too much after dark, I got home though the window and pretended I had come home sooner without my mother noticing.

                                                                  * * *

           To make myself feel better about lying, and without giving the reasons why, I worried my mother by telling her I was going to the beach. Considering what I had seen on the previous day, I didn't think it would be worth my not trying at least a second, or third time. So I picked the most tattered looking comb from the bathroom. One that almost looked like it was designed to have needless spines, so it didn't matter that it was missing or lost. Then I headed to the beach.

           This time, I seemed to care less if it saw me, I don't know why but I seemed to trust it. And so I didn't want to miss it's initial bump in the water. I sat directly at the edge of the tide, holding the ruined comb. Dipping it into the water, I combed the tiny waves three times and stared out to as much horizon as possible.

           What splashed up out of the waves was definitely not shy, as a whip of jet black hair sprouted a fountain of water into the air that took a while to settle. Even from so far out I could feel it staring directly into me. The eyes covered darker than the hair on it's head and made a direct contrast from how bone white it's skin was. This thing was much thinner and definitely not the same creature I had seen twice before.

           What startled me more was the sharp teeth that darted my way, the speed it seemed to be swimming out-distanced any fish and before I knew it, it was ascending out of the waves covered in spines both pale and dark jutting from her shoulders and spread down her spine. Her fingers were webbed and tail was as dark as her hair. She used her arms to crawl out of the water which slowed her significantly. I was stuck, frozen on the spot, in absolute fear into the depths of my marrow. I had no idea what this thing was or what I had done.

           She loomed over towards me, span from head to tail must have reached eight feet as her size was overwhelming for something so bony and thin. Her chin was extended to fit her needle sharp teeth. As she got closer I could do nothing but stare into the endless black eyes of hers. She grabbed my foot and dragged me underneath her and unhinged her mouth to make somewhere in between a screech and a hiss. She looked as if to take a maul of flesh out of my face. I stared into the mawing abyss.

           What felt most strange was that beyond the stench of fish was her natural smell that was not at all unpleasant.

           Mouth agape I could see so close the cilia lining her mouth, a slimy drip slid from her chin to my nose, proceeding to drip onto my face and as a reflex I shut my eyes tight. The next thing I knew was a thump above me and I felt less enclosed. Looking across the beach, there was the maiden I had intended to find pinning this creature to the ground with one hand and the other scratching away at it's neck and torso. The screeching was sure to be heard for a long distance as they fought on the sand. Blows were shared, and the creature seemed to have the upper hand on the maiden. Using her spines as defence and to stick into the maiden with her shoulder impacting in her ribs. She spat a kind of black ink into her pretty face and begun to extend her jaw again.

           The maiden reached out a hand and tore at the creature's lower jaw, making it hang – fully dislocated. Stunned, the pale and black creature was overwhelmed by the tail of the maiden who slammed her onto the ground. The maiden leapt up with surprising speed upon land over to me.

           I could not move, still, out of confusion and fear. The maiden was halted, dead in the sand, by the pale skinned creature digging it's sharp tipped fingers deep into the middle of her tail, tearing out a deep bloody mess. The maiden used the strength of her tail to retaliate and seemingly break something in the creature's torso enough to make her flee.

           Grabbing the spiked comb from my grasp, that had dug into my hand enough to draw blood.

           “Where did you get this?!” she hissed at me. Too frightened to speak I shook my head vigorously as if an acceptable answer. She paused, looking deep into my eyes, down my nose, to my mouth and chin. She looked as though she recognised me. She swept her hair to one side, revealing a medallion she was using as a piece of jewellery and removed it, placing it in my hand, closing my fingers around it.

           “This belongs to you. Never comb the sea again, understand? I might not be around next time if you call the wrong of us.” She calmed her voice. Her accent was implacable, soft and nice to hear as if she spoke with guttural emphasis from the back of the throat.

           “W... What are y... you?” I blubbered, feeling as if I wasn't inside my own body but a spectator for the whole event.

           “That's a rude question, human.” She grinned a wide grin, losing some of her own humanity. “You're just like your father was. We are mermaids as you are human.”

           “M... My father?” I struggled to ask.

           “Do you have my comb?” was the only reply. Harsh, but beautiful. Feeling all my pockets, in the back pocket I found I did have the comb from the previous day still there. I must have sat on it while calling the other mermaid and summoned both. I handed it towards her, my hand still trembling. She took it carefully and eyed me intently.

           “Thank you. For this, I shall grant you one wish. But then I must tend to my wound, and you shall never see me again.” she paused and waited for my quivering mess to think about what had been offered.

           “W.. Well then I wish to see you again. Once a year, I wish to hear your song.” I said. She looked at me for a few seconds as if considering this. She looked me in the eye and nodded once. Pressing my forehead with her lips, she kissed life into my wish.

           “Brave wish for such a cowardly being. You shall not see me, though you will hear my song on this day once a year. Pick up this shell and hold it to your ear, for at this action, you and only you will hear my voice.” With that, she proceeded to lift a shell from the sand, spiralling and pink, holding it to her mouth she sung loud and true for over an hour. This time had calmed me significantly. “Now avoid the sea for a long while, human boy. A summoned Mermaid can lurk at the shores for days.”

           Before I could say anything, she handed me the shell and turned, dragging her weakened tail into the sea with her. The blood did not mix with the water but the cut seemed to disappear instantly. I looked at the shell and slowly dragged myself home.

                                                                  * * *

           Walking through the door, which felt more welcoming than ever before, I was greeted by my mother as white as a sheet. Seeming like she'd seen a spectre of some kind, I noticed her eyes beaming at the medallion I had worn all of the way home. I told her I had found it on the beach and she told me more about my father. I listened carefully and she shed a tear, holding the medallion to her heart. She peered towards my hands where I was cradling the shell.

           “What's that?” She quizzed, casually. I held it up.

           “Just something I wanted to keep.” I lied “Nothing special.”

           Shooting her a grin of sentiment. I put my arm around my mother as we sat.

Capsule

     The site, half-surrounded by metal woven fences, was exactly as it used to be, except for the abundance of 'Do Not Enter' tape covering the gaps. Sign posts with danger warnings had also been erected, which was startling to the three trespassers. It was Amy who voiced her concern first.

     “I don't remember all this bein' here, guys.” She twanged the caution tape. “Since when did this happen?”

     “What gives you the idea I have any faintest clue, Aims?” He shone his torch in her face, making her recoil from the light. “I told you, I've not been here for at least three years, even then I was only passing by!”

     “Chill it out! I mean if you heard any news or whatever - get off the defensive.” She laughed, and Joe gave her a bat on the arm with his torch.

     “Don't take the piss, this is just all a bit strange to me too. It's been here for years, I have no idea why they'd tape it up, now. Maybe just a council thing, a complaint from an old dude.”

     “Really, Joe, just calm down, why you bein' so scared? Lost your sense of adventure or somethin'?” She received another whack from the torch by Joe.

     “I am not scared. You shut your face, now.”

     “Will you two love-birds shut the fuck up.” Natalie finally added to the conversation. “Giving me a God-damn headache. Look, it's just some weak shitty tape. Nothing's happened, we walk through and get a fire going, everything will be right as rain.” Amy and Joe fixed each other with an icy stare, but remained silent. Natalie had already started to walk ahead, lifting the tape and looking back to see if they were following. Amy smiled, nodded and stepped under the tape. Joe paused for a couple of extra seconds.

     “What do you mean love-birds?” he accused and sped after the other two, who had rushed on ahead.

     When they reached their moonlit destination, Joe finally caught up. The space shuttle lay in the field over a single grass-covered panel that would have lifted it vertically in order to point it up at the sky for lift-off. It didn't look much different from a plane with the wings at the back instead of in the middle.

     “Could you two try not to leave m-”

     “I thought you weren't scared, Jodie?” Nat interrupted. She always called him Jodie when she was trying to wind him up. Amy just about managed to stifle her laugh.

     “I know Nat's brother ain't here lookin' after us this time, Joe, it's okay if you're scared. You can just walk back on your own, in the dark, all alone.” She shared a look with Nat.

     “Yeah, Jodie. And remember, no funny shit with the girls tonight if you decide to stay, all vulnerable out here far away from civilisation.” They both looked at Joe as seriously as they could manage, watching his fuse slowly burn.

     “Fuck you guys! Actually fuck the both of you!”

     “No, Jodie, that's what I just said not to do!”

     “Right, screw it, I'm leaving, I'm-” Amy caught him by the arm so he couldn't leave.

     “Oh, we're just windin' you up, silly. Honestly! Get a sense of humour.” Amy said through a few of giggles.

     “Oh, I missed you guys so-fucking-much!” Nat smirked at her friends, and then looked up at the abandoned space shuttle, marked with rust; a remnant of the past. It looked just as she remembered, and if anything had changed, it was too dark to tell.

*            *         *

     “How's your bro, Nat? Haven't even spoken to him since that drink he bought me on my twentieth.” Joe asked.

     “Oh, Chris is still a shit.” Nat smiled. “But he's well. Think they moved him again last year, somewhere safer this time, hopefully. Should be getting a phone call on Sunday. I'll let you know.”

      “Cool. I keep forgetting you're sticking around for a while. Welcome back.” They shared a smile. “Didn't Chris tell us about this place, like, why it was here? I used to love his stories, I just never remembered them.” He laughed.

     Amy put on her best impression of Chris she could, lowing her voice and pausing every few words to draw suspense. “...With the American interest in going further into space, however many years ago,” She gestured, with outreached arms, to the sky “Britain would join them. We developed some of our own technology to share with the allies. These shuttles were built to test that...” She paused, pleased with herself. “Or somethin' like that, anyways.”

     “Not a half-bad impression.” Nat smirked. “But yeah, only about three shuttles with that goal in mind were actually launched over here. The rest they took to the US. This shuttle was supposed the be the next launch, but the team were moved a few days before. I'm pretty sure he explained how it had been deactivated, not just abandoned, too. But fucked if I remember.”

     “Hah yeah...” Joe said. “'So no ideas of flying off tonight.' I remember him saying, every time we came. Would be nice to see him again, actually.”

     “I'll tell him you miss him dearly.” Nat laughed. Nobody else spoke for around a minute. The fire's calming growl was nice, it drew her in and her mind wandered.

     “Earth to Nat.” Amy said. This broke her concentration.

     “Yeah, yeah. I'm trying to remember exactly how long ago it all was.” She said, poking down her last batch of wood for a re-fill. “Bloody long time.”

     “I dunno.” Replied Amy “You gettin' all nostalgic on us? Big city life made you forget about us 'til now?”

     “Don't be a fuck-wit! I just wanna figure out the times n' shit. Joe?”

     “Let me think.” He paused, counting on his fingers. “Wait, do you mean when we were last together or when we last camped at the shuttle?”

     “We were last together after my first year of university, which seems like a bloody long time. Four years ago, was it?”

     “Well yeah, you'd have been nineteen, then Amy and I eighteen. So five years before that. Nine years ago. Does seem like a long time when you put it like that...” Joe lost himself in his own thoughts. The firelight faded a little bit, Nat's bag of firewood had run it's course over the couple of hours as they spoke about nothing. Joe, springing back from his daydream, passed her a bottle of cider. It used to be her favourite, though not anymore, but she decided not to say anything, just smile. Amy seemed pleased, though.

     “Cheers, darlin'! So, anyone tellin' any scary stories or somethin' while the fire is alive? What's a camp fire without a scary story?” Amy said and looked at Joe, who looked worried, then Nat in turn.

     “My storytelling is shit, you know it is...” Nat said. “But I did hear this creature story the other day about a tree that eats people. Can't remember what it's called now, but the name translates to 'I-see-you' or some shit. Creepy fucking stuff.” Amy seemed unimpressed.

     “Great, well even if there was a story there, you've sucked the life out of it, ain't ya? Why do-”

     “Um, guys.” Joe cut in. “Can you hear voices?” Amy frowned at him and shook her head.

     “Lame try, dude.”

     “No, seriously I'm not joking. I can hear someone speaking.” Joe said and all three of them listened in silence for a short while.

     “Can't hear shit.” Nat said finally. “Anyway, Aims – I don't think I have any other stories..”

After twenty minutes the fire was almost completely dead, they drank their drinks, took it in turns to pee around the other side of the shuttle, and unscrewed the hatch to go inside.

     It wasn't until their third camping trip to the shuttle, when they were children, that they realised they could get inside. It was bigger than they realised, with rooms in every direction for every purpose. Only Chris was strong enough to open the hatch originally, so when he gave in to their nagging and gave the door a try, they were all very excited about exploring. After they had tired of exploring, they decided to sleep in the cockpit, with all the seats and buttons. What once was wonder, was now awe as Natalie remembered every time they had been here before. The cockpit was clean, which seemed strange as they always used to find their muddy tracks and rubbish from their last trip. However, it had been a long time and they weren't the only people who knew about the shuttle, so she paid it no mind. Each of them sat in their respective seats and continued to talk. Joe slipped into his sleeping bag and sat in his chair, while the girls left theirs on the floor and used their pillows to sit on and warm the seats.

     “We should have brought more food.” Amy started. “I'm getting' hungry again.”

     “Oh, shush,” said Joe “We ate plenty. I brought breakfast, but there's no chance you're starting on it now. You'll get fat.”

     “Maybe I want to be fat!” Amy said with a glare.

     “Oh, you two never stop, do you?” Nat interrupted. “Here, I've got crisps and dip if you want some.” She crunched a few in her mouth to emphasise her point. Amy got up and went over to sit on the arm of Nat's chair and grabbed a stuffed hand from the packet.

     “Thanks, Nat. Best flavour, too! Mmm.” She continued to oversell her enjoyment of the food, quickly glancing back to frown at Joe. Nat started to explain her unhealthy diet from when she was away from home.

     “Umm, guys.” Joe said. “Something's not right.” Though neither of the girls paid him attention. “Guys, we're moving!” He said a bit louder but they continued to ignore him. “Can you not feel that?” Joe shouted above the girls' chatter and the rumble of the raising platform forced them to pay attention. They both stood up and froze in confusion. Amy began sliding to the back of the room, followed by a sleeping bag and two pillows, and after a few more degrees, Natalie.

     “What the fuck is happening?” Nat shouted. “No, seriously, what the actual fuck?”

     Joe slid out of his sleeping bag and jumped down onto the wall, which was now the floor, to join the others. “I don't know, but I really don't like it. Are we taking off? I think we should get out of here.”

     “Obviously we should fucking get out of here, Joe!” Nat replied, but Joe had already started down the rungs which were previously on the floor. Nat followed closely after and realised that Amy was too busy hyperventilating to think for herself, so she grabbed her by the arm until she followed down the ladder.

     Sixty seconds 'til lift off...

     The stoic female voice sent a wave through the ship and a shiver down Nat's spine. She looked below at the ladder to find that Joe hadn't slowed down for them and was already stepping onto the path to the outer hatch.

     Fifty seconds 'til lift off...

     Nat finally made it down to the corridor and saw Joe struggling to twist the wheel on the door. She started towards him, but Amy pushed ahead of her.

     Forty seconds 'til lift off...

     “Get us out! Open the door! Open the door!” Amy barely stopped herself before reaching Joe and grabbed a hold of the wheel alongside him. Pulling with both their strength they couldn't manage to undo it.

     Thirty seconds 'til lit off...

     Walking up just behind the two yanking at the wheel, Nat pressed a glowing green button labelled 'Decompression.' A loud hiss could be heard and the door wheel gave way so fast both Amy and Joe fell.

     Compression compromised, lift off shutting down...

     A brief wave of relief sighed through all three of them, before they realised their next problem. With the door opened, Nat joined the other two in peering down the one-hundred and fifty foot drop to the ground. Further, including the pit where the panel, which was now the only thing holding them up, used to be.

     “Heh, so this thing works.” Nat said after a twenty-ish second silence.

     “How are you so damn calm?” Yelled Joe.

     “I'm bloody not, Aims, I'm just good at dealing with the panic. Anyway, I assume there's a button that puts us back on the floor. Let's go find the shit.”

     “Okay,” Said Joe “Lead the way, then, smart-arse.”

     Minutes went by of the three searching for the right button in the cockpit – or indeed searching for anything that might help. Using the chairs and other various things around the room they had to climb up to where everything was. Amy jumped from one of the back chairs and grabbed onto a handle on the side of the room, which flipped open, dropped her with it, sending papers and packages flying across the room. Amy sat, dazed, in a heap of things. Joe picked up and examined a first aid kit, and Nat picked up a fan-folded paper that looked like a drawing.

     “Well fuck, this might be useful.” She lifted up her page showing the others a full sized map of the shuttle, with all the rooms.

     “Nice find, even if it did cost me a bruise on my arse.” Amy mused. “Maybe there's a manual on the control thingy. Showin' how to set us down, or somethin'.”

     “Shh!” Joe interrupted, for the second time that evening. “I hear talking, do you hear talking?” They all listened, Nat heard a couple of taps on the ladder outside, but they were faint so she dismissed them. There was nobody else on the shuttle with them.

     “Probably something falling, we are the wrong way up and shit.” Nat shrugged and carried on searching.

     “How do you reckon it started anyway, I didn't press anything.” Joe said, almost defensively. Amy frowned.

     “Mhmm, sure. I bet it was you, pressed the big red button or somethin'.”

     “To save another fucking spat,” Nat interrupted. “Let's assume remote access.”

     “Well that would be much worse.” Said Joe. “That would mean someone is actually trying to launch the ship.”

     Compression achieved.

     All three of the young adults froze.

     Sixty seconds 'til lift off...

     They scurried and yanked at the door on the floor. Amy got there first, started pulling it from the wrong way in panic.

     “Oh God, oh God!” Joe started chanting. “I hate time limits...”

     Fifty seconds 'til lift off...

     “Give it the fucker here.” Nat pushed Amy out of the way and tried the door herself. It was locked after all, not just Amy's fault. She searched for a way to unlock the door without much success.

     Forty seconds 'til lift off...

     Thirty seconds 'til lift off...

     Nat finally managed to find a button on an outer wall by a bunch of messy papers, clearly titled 'Lock'. Amy must have knocked it when she fell from the cabinet-of-many-things. She took a moment to appreciate that all the buttons were labelled pretty clearly on the walls. But not the one they needed fifty seconds ago.

     Twenty seconds 'til lift off...

     They raced down the ladder, running to try to open the hatch, again and stop the lift off.

     Ten seconds 'til lift off...

     When Nat reached the corridor she looked just in time to see that as Amy, who had reached the button first, was about to press the green button, it turned red. 9 She pushed it. 8 It did nothing. 7 She pushed it again, 6 and again, and again 5 in stunned silence. 4, 3, 2 Joe looked around at Nat with the widest she had ever seen eyes stretch.

     Lift off...

     The three of them were held fast to the wall in the centrifuge. The rumbling shook Nat's skull to painful levels and she felt intensely sick. She was pretty sure she heard Joe try to speak but the rumbling overwhelmed him. She felt a jolt as the giant fuel tank on the other side of the lifting plate detached itself, having used all it's fuel to push higher into the atmosphere. Before long everything went fuzzy, then it was hard to think, and then there was only blackness.

                                                            *             *           *

     When Natalie woke, she was floating.

     Her vision was blurry and her insides felt strange. There was a distinct smell of vomit. She regained her composure and wriggled around the space ungracefully. She had not trained for this. It wasn't so apparent to her until now how much everything was just that dull grey metal of typical space colours. Why weren't astronauts more invested in some nice scenery, she thought. A few greens would be nice around here. The quiet made itself known, and Natalie felt almost calm, even relaxed. Amy broke her concentration with a groan as she came to. Nat hadn't even noticed her until now and she focused – trying to understand what was happening. She was in space, Amy was here but Joe was not. She shook Amy by the shoulder and motioned for her to follow. The shuffling through space didn't take long to get sort of used to, though they both were a little clumsy. They propelled themselves towards the cockpit using the rungs of the ladder, creating deeply echoed taps through to the other end of the shuttle. The back of the shuttle was eerily dark. Not deep-space blackness, but that artificial darkness accompanying a night-time power cut. She opened the door to the cockpit and pushed herself through. Joe was inside, reading one of the papers scattering the airspace around the room.

     “Where was that map, Nat? The one you had before?”

     “Fuck-sake Joe, how long have you been in here? You seem pretty fucking cosy.” Nat replied. Amy was staring out one of the windows.

     “Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow. Guys, we're actually in space! Floatin' around... in space!” She squeaked in excitement, Nat scarce thought she'd seen Amy this excited before.

     “Am I the only one here who understands the shit-storm we're in right now? Y'know, fearing for my fucking life?”

     Joe looked up from his page. “Trust me, when I say I'm more scared than you are, Nat. But you were the one talking about dealing with the panic. Anger isn't helping me look for this page, is it!”

     “No, Jodie, it isn't! But neither will passive-damn-aggression.”

     “You ain't understandin' this, are you guys? We're in spaaaaace!” Amy pitched in, they both looked at her with fury. “Jesus, can we not enjoy this for a little bit? Who gets a chance to go into space?”

     “I'd have loved to go into space with you, Amy.” Nat said. “But not a fucking one-way trip.” Amy looked a bit stunned and went back to the window. Joe held up his hand.

     “Look, I fully understand you're a bit unhappy, Nat. But Amy doesn't deserve this and it's really not helping. We could at least find a way out... I can't do this on my own.” Nat took a few breaths before replying. “Please?” He added.

     “Right, okay. I stuffed the map in my pocket, it's here.” She felt around her pockets and found nothing. “Shit, I must have dropped it.”

     “Probably the zero-gees!” Amy said. Nat nodded and swam her way back to the corridor, to find when she dropped it.

     With Amy and Nat both looking away, Joe took the moment to try and calm himself a little and put his hands over his face. A single tear escaped and floated upwards. When he opened his eyes, he saw the globule and caught it, Amy saw the whole thing.

     “You're tryin' too hard to be tough, dude. You don't have to, we're all friends here.” Amy smiled, and Joe faked a smile back.

     “I know, I just figured one of us would have to take control, you know?”

     “Then just let Nat do it. And stop pretendin' you're any kind o' leader. We all know she thrives on bossing others.”

     “...yeah.” He said, and let out a single genuine laugh. Natalie slid through the door and Joe held her gaze. “About thirty seconds.”

     “What?” Nat asked.

     “Before you two came in, I was only here for about thirty seconds. I was hardly planning a wedding.”

     “Oh, al'right. Point noted. I have the map here, anyway.”

     “Good, can you read it? It's difficult to focus on something when my hands are shaking like a Richter nine.” Nat hesitated for a second before swallowing hard and gave a sharp nod.

     “Okay, so it seems pretty straight forward from here. We're at the nose, up this way.” Nat, held the print up and pointed. “The corridor goes down the middle of the shuttle. The rooms branch off. Here, we have bedrooms. Here are bathrooms.”

     “Fantastic, I could use the bathroom.”

     “Shush, Amy, I'm speaking. Besides, you don't even know how to pee without gravity.” This stopped Amy in her thoughts, Nat could see her trying to figure it out. “Anyway... Here we have an infirmary, where I assume they also keep the space suits, as I saw on a film once. Here is a kitchen. I have no idea what this empty space is. But if I can remember from nine or ten years ago, that's probably a leisure room, or something. At the back here we have a fuck-off big area for storage and astronaut shit. Here is our point of interest, though, lady and lord. This room here, in this little bit of writing, claims to have an escape capsule.” Both Amy and Joe's eyes lit up at the sound of that. “So. We have three options. We try to find a radio, to call for help. We use the escape capsule to get back to Earth. Or we could hope there is some kind of auto pilot that will take us down as we are. As we do not know if any of these will work, let's just do all fucking three.”

     “Okay,” said Amy “I guess I can go lookin' for the escape pod.” Joe turned toward the controls and started looking at each little gadget.

     “Right, and I'll look for a radio. Can't be too hard.”

     “Which leaves me rummaging through the fucking paperwork. Thanks, guys.” Said Nat, who immediately caught a couple of pages floating about and tried to make a pile. Amy pushed her way to the door of the main cabin and stared down the lone and increasingly dark corridor. She paused for a long while before she said anything.

     “Yeah, I'm not going down there without a light switch.” She said. Nat laughed.

     “I doubt there'll just be a flicky switch on the wall, but most of the shit around is labelled.”

     “But what if it's not here? I ain't goin' out there on my lonesome!” Amy closed the door again and crossed her arms so violently, she began to front-flip on the spot. She grabbed something to stabilise herself. Nat laughed at her again.

     “Honestly, we're here alone – I don't know what you're scared of.”

     “Well,” Joe chipped in. “How do you know? Maybe there's a team of people running it from the back.” He shrugged. Nat rolled her eyes.

     “Like fuck is there! They'd need to use this room, or they'd have at least heard us talking or some other shit. It was either an accident or the rocket was launched remotely.”

     “Whatever, Nat. I can't see any radio here. So I'll go with you, Amy, and we can find some lights and the rest.”

     “Thankin' you, Joe.” Amy opened the door again, and slowly used the wall to scale further down. Joe caught up and braced himself alongside her against the other wall and Nat saw them fade further into the black. A sudden sense of dread befell her.

     “Wait, hold the fuck up! Don't leave me on my own!” Nat grabbed the ladder and used it to speed up behind the other two. Who were laughing at her.

     “I thought you weren't scared.” They said in unison, and looked at each other in confusion.

     “Oh, shut-up. Trying to use auto-pilot is a stupid idea anyway, none of us know anything about this shit.”

     “Well that's why the research was your job. But fair point.” Said Joe

     “Look, let's just stick together, al'right?” Nat said. Amy nodded and grabbed Nat by the arm. They carried on down the corridor, Joe used his torch when it started to get a bit too dark. They looked in at the bedrooms and kitchen, which were pitch black. Amy stopped in the bathroom and it took her almost fifteen minutes to figure out how it worked, meanwhile Joe went back to finish off the crisps and dip. When they regrouped, they seemed in fairly decent spirits until it caught Nat's attention that one of the lights was on in one of the doors down the corridor. Joe turned his torch off and they swam each other to the window and looked inside.

     A man wearing large headphones with a microphone stared stunned back at the three people in the shuttle. All three of whom were speechless. His face through the small porthole window began to shrink after a huge crack sounded from inside the door. The escape capsule drifted slowly away from them. Before long, the entire pod was in full view and all four people involved simply remained dumbfounded. The capsule could easily have fit seven or eight people, though it carried only one passenger who's lips began to move. He was shouting something, but only silence could be heard.

     “So, that was our escape?” Amy said, finally. Joe was too busy hyperventilating to answer and neither Amy or Joe noticed the tears drip out of Natalie. Her heart was a sunken ship wreck, and she was going to drown. It was Amy that started moving toward the cockpit, dragging Joe behind her. Nat couldn't bring herself to move from her spot, so she remained slumped – deflated by the apparent inevitable.

     “Fuck” She shouted, turned, and slammed her fist on the door behind her, which pushed open. Crackling speech filled the solemn quiet of the corridor, causing Joe and Amy to turn back as quick as they could.

     “The radio?” Nat sniffed. Amy pushed in front of her inside the room and Joe got out his torch, having calmed down somewhat in the face of help. When they entered, the lights turned on automatically. The room was filled with a station board, computers, comm. units and microphones. It was the room that Nat wasn't sure of on the map, which turned out to be where the radios were. So perhaps their chances were a tiny amount higher than fucked.

     “Can you... me. Who... Ah, damn... Need....” The radio failed to stay on for long. It was Amy who picked up a microphone closest to where the sound was coming out and spoke back. The man kept talking, breaking up, but sounded as if he did hear something back.

     “Wait, I'll... and... should, fix...” the voice continued until eventually it cleared and a slick stream vented through the room. “Can you hear me? Am I coming through?” Nat pushed Amy out of the way and grabbed the microphone.

     “Yes! Yes, we can hear you. What the fuck is going on?”

     “Smooth, Nat.” Joe added.

     “I don't know how you got in there, but you really weren't supposed to be.” The voice replied. “Listen, I can't be giving you all the deets, but I can tell you, to be sure, you need to get off that shuttle.” Nat frowned.

     “That's not helpful, you shit! Bring the capsule back!”

     “No can do, I'm afraid. I've been pushed into orbit. The shuttle is low flying, so slowly in about two days I'll get low enough, with enough speed, to break the atmos; no return trips. Thing is, I don't know much about that shuttle, I wasn't the one who reactivated it, I was just assurance to see it off. It was meant to look like an accident.” There was regret in the man's voice.

     “What was? What was an accident? Tell us everything you know, it might help us escape.” Nat showed no intention of lowering her voice. The pause at the other end was long.

     “I'm sorry. To be sure, I am.” He eventually said, slowly and carefully. “But it's worth more than your lives. I can't tell you anything.” This took a few seconds to fully sink in.

     “You.. Fucking... Wh-” Joe snatched the microphone away from Nat before she could continue.

     “Look,” He said. “I'm sorry for my friend, but I'm getting pretty sick of floating about, here. What are our chances of getting off this shuttle?” The man took a few seconds to respond.

     “Slim. I don't wanna lose you all hopes or nothin', but you were in the worst place at the worst possible time. I know the radio ain't connected up to Earth, but who knows what else is there? If you do find a way back, make sure nothing comes back with you, capiche? And, eh, don't tell anyone about this, or I can't ensure your lucky lives will last. Anyway, good luck.”

     “Wait, what?” When there was no response, Joe repeated himself. “Who are you? What do you mean? Please, don't just leave us!” The radio was dead.

     “What a prick!” Nat shouted and hit the desk. She noted that Amy was being particularly reserved, and went over to give her a hug. They both needed it. Joe held his head in his hands. The persistent darkness outside the room didn't help matters, the ship was just smatterings of grey through an abundance of blackness. Joe hadn't given up, however, he looked in each of the other rooms with his torch while the others simply followed – having no ideas of what else to do. Though Nat wasn't sure what Joe was looking for, she still held an element of hope that they could find something.

                                                              *           *           *

     It was inside the storage room that 'something' was found. The room was a vast expanse filled with crates and tubes and basic storage equipment. In the middle of the room laid a cylindrical container with mist pouring out of the sides, it was the only thing that caused any motion in the room, so it was hard for them to not keep returning their gaze towards it. Though after searching around the room for something, anything, Joe found a few canisters that seemed like they were used the hold samples of rocks or things.

     “Hey guys, I'm pretty sure I saw one of the paper thingies about these – they're used for samples to send back to Earth without returning, which means there's a chute or something to send them.”

     “Interesting,” Nat said, “So what? We can send our death letters back to earth? How fucking optimistic.”

     “What's in there?” Amy interrupted, pointing at what seemed like a handle to a wardrobe behind the sample canisters clipped to the wall. She made her way over, helping Joe move everything out of the way and opened it up. And it could have been their ticket home, all three of them thought it. Joe spoke first.

     “You take the piss all you want, Nat. But we could always try sending ourselves home.” Behind the doors were a set of six capsules, just like the sample canisters, but much larger. Potentially large enough to fit a human or two inside.

     “I'm pretty sure that's not safe, we'd suffocate in one of those.” Amy said.

     “Not if we had a supply of oxygen,” Joe begun. “Besides, you heard the guy say we're in low orbit, if we pushed straight down, we might be able to break the atmosphere sooner. It'll likely have a tracker and parachute for when we get close.”

     “Fantastic, but that doesn't explain how we're randomly gettin' oxygen, Joe.”

     “Space suits.” Nat said, half to herself. When she realised the two were staring at her, she explained. “It might be a bit of a squeeze, but space suits are designed to regulate and time your oxygen, I think, anyway. Shit, we could probably fit a couple of bonus tanks in the capsule if we go alone.” She didn't like that last part, speeding through space alone wasn't an inviting concept. Though it could be their only way home. She also knew Joe would get quite claustrophobic, he hesitated before he spoke.

     “It's worth a try. Help me carry three of these out, then.” They carried the first one out towards the room where the escape capsule was released, then a second. The work was awkward and clumsy, as while the objects weren't heavy in the zero gravity, they were still big and fairly hard to navigate by three amateurs.

     On the third capsule, Amy got nudged back by the tail end and fell into a few of the smaller canisters, now free-floating, and sent them spinning across the room. One of the canisters hit a clip on the side of the smoking pot on the floor and it flipped open. All three looked at it. The lid gently rose without any resistance and what fell up out of it looked like a ball of darkness. The ball rose into the centre of the room and neither of the three could quite understand what it was, it seemed otherworldly, as if made of non-human materials. Before Nat could second-guess that she saw it twitch, a singular fat tentacle-thing folded out of the mass, followed by another and another. There were nine tentacles in total, before what was previously was a ball was now an unnatural starfish. None of them said anything, but when Joe decided to shine his torch on the blackness-material object, it shimmered, almost metallic.

     When it moved, Amy jumped. It's chubby extremities pulsed inward to spindly ones and back, it's mass stretched a couple of times and it started writhing, flailing in the lack of gravity. It seemed like it couldn't get any control. The three could not take their eyes off of it, and eventually it stopped flinging it's limbs about wildly and executed a perfect spin, stopping and spreading out like a child-drawn sun. Only, without the light. It started to drift towards Joe, who, when it was close enough, ducked out of the way and left it drifting onto the wall. It stuck to the wall with an unknown grip.

     “I'm going to guess that nobody else has any idea what the hell that thing is?” Amy asked, but didn't expect an answer. Seeing it closer up, it was a few feet across, just over half the height of Nat, in all directions. When it was stuck to the wall, it's middle swelled, making it like a dome. Joe shined the light directly onto it, and she saw that it was moving, like it was covered in tiny cilia that really grossed her out. She hated it. It reacted to the long exposure to the torch, shrunk and started moving towards the source. This time it was fast. Really fast. Amy let out a gasp, and when Joe wasn't quick enough, it wrapped a spindly limb around his leg. He cried out as if in pain, and Amy screamed. Nat did all she could she could think to do, which was to shove the large capsule towards it, in the hope to knock it off. Before she could, it already started at Amy, drawn to the noise.

     The crawling mass stopped short of reaching Amy and, instead, seemed distracted by the open door. It slowed down significantly, resuming it's sun-like form and drifted in that direction as it if had no interest in the other three life-forms in the room at all. Joe came to his senses.

     “We can't let that thing out of here!” He said, clutching his shin which had burn marks in place of missing clothing. Nat thought quickly. There was a smaller capsule floating just by the side of her, so she sent it flying towards the door, knocking it just enough to leave a half-inch gap.

     “Not with us inside!” Screeched Amy, who was separated from the other two by the thing. From outside of their view, however, Joe had already managed to pull the freezer chamber it emerged from off of the ground and was hurdling towards it, presumably in an attempt to catch it. The thing, without any warning, stopped exactly as it was. As Joe got closer, it started expanding, fanning it's self out thinner, like a net. It was going to catch a twenty-something male, and successfully. It wrapped around to form a hollow husk around Joe, who couldn't stop himself in time, and it started closing in. In the gaps between the tentacles, Nat was certain she was about to see her friend die.

     He punched his hand out, and pulled it back just as swift, as if touching something burning, and in doing so, he pushed the container. The cold rim touched the creature, forcing it to retract. It reacted violently, thrashing out, soundlessly. But by the time it started to grow again, the three had already raced to the door and shut it inside. It pressed itself up flat against the little window of the door. From the outside, it just looked like a lightless room. Though if you looked closely enough, you would see the oddly oily shimmer of a thousand maggoty cilia. Nat shuddered, Joe had severe burns on his hand and leg and Amy just stared at the porthole window. After a fair few seconds of shock, a sound knocked them into action. A feint hissing sound.

     “Is it... burnin' through the door?”Amy asked.

     “I don't want to wait to find out.” Joe replied, and what followed took just under an hour to prepare. Nat went to the infirmary, to confirm she was correct in assuming it was where the space suits were. She got them all out, found ones that would kind-of-fit all three, packed the extra oxygen tanks and figured out how they worked so that she could show the others. Joe went up to the main cabin to find out exactly how the capsules worked. They only had two, so it was important to figure out if it were possible to do. Amy mainly stayed in the communications room and occasionally checked on the 'alien' to make sure it hadn't melted out from storage. What turned out to be fifty three minutes and a hissing door later, they were ready. Time was tight, so they had to decide.

     “The bad news,” Joe began. “Is that the switch has to be pressed from the outside first with one capsule at the front of the launcher. That means two people in the first one, and someone on their own.”

     “I'll do it,” Said Nat without hesitation. “I'll be fine.” Joe wasn't about to question her, she knew he would prefer to be with someone else considering he would get claustrophobic anyway.

     “Okay. The good news is the second one will follow afterwards on a timer, giving you time to get in and ready before.” They all nodded at this, and Nat prepared the capsules. Amy got inside first, suited up, with two bonus oxygen tanks and slid down, what now seemed like, the missile. After Amy was secure, Joe got in, lining up his face with the thick window hatch, which Nat left open from the outside.

     “Remember, you each have eight-ish hours of oxygen in there. I don't know how long this will take, or if we will make it.” She looked over at the more imminent threat in the storage room. “But it's a damn sight better than staying here. Even when your oxygen runs low, stay calm. Fucking calm. You'll make it eventually.” And with that, Joe nodded. Nat pressed a few buttons and gave herself a one and a half minute timer afterwards. Amy and Joe were slid forwards and then they were gone. Nat took one last peer at the blackness behind the door, and secured her helmet, stuffed the oxygen tanks below her and got in, closing the lid behind her. She too, left open the little hatch, so that she could see outside. It scared her to think about seeing so much space, but it was vital to know if she was going to hit the atmosphere or not. She couldn't help but think how little room she had to manage her oxygen tanks, she was trapped fairly tight. She was tensing all of her muscles and the next thing she felt was herself drop. She had been been launched.

                                                                *        *        *

     After a few hours, space was surprisingly peaceful. She figured out she needed to use her feet to drag up the oxygen tanks, but she could just about manage it. She had no concept of how far away she was from Earth or if she would even make it in time. It seemed very likely, given the speeds of things, and quick assumptions in her head.

     All she could see out of the window, between her condensing breaths on her helmet, was the infinite darkness of space, scattered with a handful of stars. It was during what she thought was the third hour, when her capsule span in view of a large satellite. In the unhindered view of the structure, she spotted a single fat tentacle pressed against the window.