Star Shaped Blog

 “Uh- oh my god you speak english, thank god. You’re on the Hail Mary, my ship.” The stranger, probably my new captor based on the restraints around my limbs, says in my direction.

Hm, “Hail Mary” is a religious reference, is it not? “Are you from Eden?” I ask. 

He thinks for a moment. “I don’t think so? I don’t really know what that is, sorry.” If he doesn’t even know what Eden is, he probably isn’t from the C.o.I either. 

I look down at my legs, one of them is mostly unscathed, save from a few bruises. The other, however, I can’t even feel the tiniest bit. There’s a bandage wrapped tightly around my midthigh that’s soaked in blood. Now that I'm looking, I’m not wearing any pants. I look up at my potential saviour, and squint at his badge. “Grace” I say outloud, it rolls nicely off my tongue that I'm now realising is much longer than it used to be. “Where are my pants?”

He looks flustered all of a sudden, did I say something weird? “I uh- had to take them off to take the branch out of your leg,” He replies. “They were really torn up and bloody.” Great. It’s freezing cold, I’ve woken up on a foreign ship that doesn’t seem to be bound to any faction I know, and my favourite pants are probably destroyed permanently.

“It’s really cold in here.” I say, hoping he’ll maybe turn on a heater or something.

“Right, of course. Sorry, my memory has been exceptionally awful recently.” He walks to the bedside, and I try not to flinch away as he undoes the restraints binding my arm and legs. “You probably shouldn’t get up anytime soon, until the local anaesthetic wears off at a minimum.” I nod. “I’ll get you a blanket and some food, er- do you think you’ll be alright with solids? I might still have some coma food somewhere.”

I look in the mirror where my face used to be. “I think I’d prefer soft food, but if you don’t have any I can try with solids.” I look away from him and try really really hard not to think about how he might taste if I were to eat him. I really hope that’s not what I want to do, at least.

“Alright, I’ll be back in two ticks” Two ticks? Is that some form of time measurement I don’t know? Or is he maybe referring to clock ticks? But there’s no clock in here, and it’s definitely been more than 2 seconds since he left so that can’t be it. 

He walks back into the room after what feels like an eternity’s worth of shivers. “I found some custard, I hope that’s alright.” 

I’ve never even heard of that. “It should be fine, thanks.” I sit up in the bed and suddenly my left arm lights up with pain. “Fuck!” I yell as loud as I can and clutch my half-torn bicep. Grace practically jumps and rushes over to my beside.

“Are you okay!? Oh my god that must hurt so bad. Do you want painkillers? Or I could numb it?” He frantically reaches for everything and also nothing at the same time. I’m not sure if I can keep up with this guy, his ‘I can fix it’ attitude is exhausting. No, that’s a terrible thing to think about the person who saved you and treated your wounds, I should be grateful.

“No need, I’ll be alright. I’ve felt worse.” I’m lying, but I don’t want him to waste a precious resource like that for me. I take the blanket and the custard tube. The blanket is embroidered with small foxes being chased by small dogs. Some of the foxes seem terrified, while others are running in a lighter sense. Some dogs are angry, others hungry, most playful. It’s a nice blanket, it somewhat matches Grace’s cardigan.

“Wait- how did you know my name?” He asks all of a sudden. What? How is he only realising this now? Or can he read minds and just heard me thinking about it? Did he hear me thinking about eating him? Fuck! Stop thinking! Think about foxes, think about foxes. One of my brothers told me about foxes, said they’re smart, and also naturally very cautious. He called them cowardly, but I think that if being afraid sometimes helps you to live, then it’s not cowardly at all. “Hello? Are you still there?” Oh shit, I forgot to respond. 

I blink at Grace. “It’s written on your shirt.” His mouth hangs agape for a second, and then he looks down at his shirt, then back at me. 

“Oh. I forgot.” He chuckles nervously. He’s clearly very embarrassed by that, I would be too, really. “So… What’s your name?” My name? He wants to know my name?

“It’s Simon. It’s- nice to meet you. Thank you for saving me, I am forever in your debt.” I bow in his direction as best as I can from my position. I take a sip of the custard, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever had before. It’s creamy, smooth, and overall delicious. I guzzle it like I haven’t eaten in days, which is probably accurate.

“Oh! It’s nice to meet you too, Simon. I see you like the custard!” He’s turned a very light shade of red. What am I doing that’s making him so nervous? Am I saying the wrong things, or- 

I look in the mirror again. I’m not exactly good looking. It’s understandable why this look would scare him. I move my face so the toothy side is facing away from Grace. “The custards, really good. Thank you.” Is that why I keep wondering how he tastes? Because I’ve transformed into some bloodthirsty beast? Am I dangerous to him? “Hey, could I have some privacy for a while?”

Grace looks at me with blue eyes and smiles softly. “Of course, get some rest. Call out if you need anything.” He places a second squeeze tube of custard on my lap and walks out of the room. As soon as he’s gone, I grab at it and attempt to open it. It’s difficult to remove the lid with just one arm, and my fingers don’t seem to want to cooperate with me, so I try my teeth. There’s a loud “Crunch” and the lid snaps in half. There’s really no way I bit it that hard, all I meant to do was lightly grip it with my teeth. Whatever, I think as I spit out the crushed cap and drain the liquid.

Not only is the moon red, but the redness is moving. 

“How is that even possible?” I say to nobody in particular.

I rush to the cockpit and turn off autopilot, roughly steering into orbit of the red moon. It may be stupid and time-consuming, but I can’t help but need to know more. 

“What in the world…” The ship lurches as I attempt to drive it. Never really been good at it, if Rocky were here he’d probably be yelling about it right now. A loud crack like nothing I’d ever heard before goes off.

 — 

“Crack. Crack. Crack.” and suddenly the P.A is going off. 

“This is a code red lockdown. All students return to their classrooms immediately and all teachers lock doors and fill out the emergency roll call list on your devices.”

Some kids are yelling, some are crying, others just think it’s another silly drill. Though I’ve only worked here under a year, I can tell the difference between a drill and the real thing. I rush to lock the door. Although I probably should’ve tried to look composed for the kids, I really am quite scared. None of the schools I ever went to had any shootings, so this is a first for me. 

“Alright, kids, we all need to calm down.” My breathing is becoming shaky. I turn the lights off.

“Crack”

“Please sit against the wall or under a desk, I’m sure this will all be over soon.” My voice cracks at the word please. The last part was added more for my own comfort than the kids.

“Mr., how long will we have to wait for?” An 11 year old girl asks. Her name is Annie and she’s from a year level lower. She was only here to get something from her sister. 

“Crack. Crack.”

“Uh- Uhm. Just until we’re told it’s okay to come out.” I sink to the ground and hug my knees. I need to be strong for them. I take a deep breath in, and out.

“Mr. Grace-” Before the boy can ask me whatever it is he wants to ask, the P.A goes off again.

“Attention all staff and students, the lockdown is officially over. You may return to scheduled classtime.” Then the bell rings.

I attempt to regain my composure and stand. “Hey, it’s all done. That wasn’t so bad, right? Now everyone get their stuff and go to lunch. My office and the counselor’s office are open if you’re feeling afraid or upset.” 

I walk to a currently unused classroom, I have a short meeting with the other science teachers. “What was that all about?” I ask. 

“I believe some kid was playing with a cap gun, and Jenni freaked out and called the office.” Says Kacey, the year 8 biology teacher.

“Jenni?” I say, her name not ringing a bell.

“Jenni Ryan, she’s one of the substitute teachers. Not a great teacher but a nice person, I guess.” 

 — 

“Crack” And I’m back. Where was I? Right, the moon. I snap out of my trance and look back out the window. “What the hell!?” I had looked away for two seconds and a tree the size of a country appeared on the surface of the moon. I suppose that was the cracking sound.

This tree told me two things. One, that the “red” wasn’t the colour of the moon, but the colour of the ocean on the moon, and two, that something was horribly wrong. I find a monocular and bring it to the window. “Holy sh-oot is that a person!?” 

Before I know it I’m in the cockpit again. I bring Mary as close I can to the moon and the massive tree without leaving orbit. I think there’s a decent length rope just outside the airlock, I could maybe attach it to the hull and my suit and lower myself to the person, but how would I even carry them while also climbing back up? Are they even able to breathe right now? What am I meant to do?? I start to panic. 

“Calm down Ry, you can fix this. You can fix this.” I run to the airlock, throw on my EVA suit, and rapidly search the area. I find two long ropes, a couple belay devices, a small axe, and some carabiners, and make my way out of the ship. I tie myself to the hull, giving myself as much slack as possible, and use the belay to allow myself to fall slowly. It’s just like abseiling in those middle school camps I never wanted to go to yet always kind of enjoyed. 

As I make it to the tree, which is much too large, I reach towards the unconscious body. A male, maybe early 30s. I glance away to check my harness and wait did he have a second mouth? I look back and study him closer. His face is grotesque, covered in blood that may or may not be from the suspiciously coloured ocean behind him. He doesn’t quite have a second mouth, but it’s definitely extended on the right side with gross, elongated teeth that stick out like they’re not supposed to be there. On second thought, is he even human? Have I found two alien species in one expedition? He even has gills!

I go to check his pulse on his left arm, to find that he doesn’t have one, and the place where the arm should be is rapidly losing blood. I quickly attach him to my EVA suit, carefully hacking the branch that’s made its way through his thigh in the hopes of avoiding more blood loss. 

On my left I see another person. Shit. There’s no way I can take two. Though it looks like she has a branch through her heart, so I don’t think I could have saved her. “I’m sorry, tree woman. I would have saved you if I could.” I try to bow in the direction of her, and notice one of her eyes is entirely white. “I hope you’re at peace now.”

I make it back to the ship as fast as I can handle, fish man strapped to my back. He’s been lacking oxygen for a dangerous amount of time, and the faster I can get him to Armando the better. 

After throwing off my EVA, I run with the man in my arms. He’s heavy, definitely bulkier than me, but shorter, which is nice, I suppose. I get him to the medical bed. Just in case he panics after waking up, if he wakes up at all, I strap his legs and arm to the bed. Armando gets to work, and I almost forget to turn the autopilot back on before sitting down beside the bed.

I believe it’s around ‘midday’ the next day when I wake up to the beeping of the nanny-bot. I look at the small tablet beside the arms. It reads “human assistance required, foreign object removal from right femur, rectus femoris, biceps femoris, semitendinosis”. I don’t know any of those words, but I suppose it’s pretty obviously referring to his thigh branch.

If I want to be able to remove the object, I’ll need better access to his leg. I tear his pants, god this is embarrassing. Don’t look at his crotch you pervert oh my god. I remember that old class I took once. All I have to do is apply pressure and push the branch the rest of the way out. I undo the restraint on that leg, use the tablet to tell the nanny-arm-bot to administer local anaesthetic to the area, and lift the leg. I push the wood, it squelches, and I try not to vomit. Luckily, the branch was much longer than it was thick, and isn’t hard to push through in its shortened state.

I bandage the hole and let Armando do the rest. Hah. Take that tree, I win officially! I take the branch and examine it. Small, human-like veins are visible just under its bark. Perhaps it uses blood from the moon’s ocean to sustain itself? That’s weird, but not the weirdest thing about the tree, I suppose.

I take a closer look at the human(??) now that I'm no longer distracted by the removal of foreign objects or exhausted from carrying a guy twice as muscle-y as me. He has large, bulging, dangerously-close-to-the-surface veins that are a dark but vibrant red. I look back to his face, he has a dark, brooding look to him, but maybe that’s just because he’s been thrust out of an ocean of blood on a foreign moon and skewered by a tree. On the sides of his head are fin-like ears that look straight out of a picture book about sirens. They’re kind of beautiful, I think.

I sit on the chair beside the bed. I could be anywhere else, but like hell am I going to miss this guy waking up. The thought of having someone to possibly talk to again leaves me giddy with endorphins, but the thought of being eaten by a half-fish half-man makes me terrified and maybe a little excited at the same time.

When I wake up again, it’s dark in the lab. I sit up in the seat, my back sore from sleeping upright, and make eye contact with two glow-in-the-dark eyes. I freeze. He’s awake. “Oh my god…” I whisper to myself.