Sneak Peak: Untitled
From: The Derelict very rough draft
A change in the light quality brings him to full alertness and he looks up quickly, terrified to find that the Daiomon is in his quarters. Its head is tilted, an owl hunting prey. He wants to reach for his radio, he needs to call for help, for backup. Instead, he locks up, staying put. The Daioman locks eyes with him, and he can’t move. He’s never been this close to one, but he’s read the survivor reports. The way they can entrance their victims, drawing them in with only a look. So many people simply walked into their embrace to die.
Jasper feels himself take a step towards the Daiomon, feeling a sensation of peace settle over him. He knows something is wrong, something should bother him, but he can’t remember what. He feels the fabric of his shirt slip from his fingers as he takes another step forward. He is within arms reach of the Daiomon and it raises a cool hand to his cheek.
He closes his eyes and rests his cheek against the hand which gently cups his face. The clawed fingers trace over his flesh. Those claws, so deadly; they are hollow, used to inject a poison of some kind to neutralize prey, and yet he doesn’t fear them. Somehow, ridiculously, he feels safe.
A voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him, because this is exactly how the report from the only expedition member to survive being fed on described the moments right before the attack. The Daiomon’s eyes trail over him, a finger traces his cheekbones, tilts his face to examine it from different angles.
