April 27th, 1961 Captain's Log
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April 27, 1961 Captain’s Log:
After the second alien attack, there was a strange fever taking over the ship. It was an odd fever, but the ship’s doctor was trying to stay on top of it. There was no fatalities, but one of the youngest crew member suffered the most. He suffered from strange delusions. Or at least what we thought were delusions.
The air was too hot. The young ship mate had to breathe through his mouth in order to get any air at all. He was calling his mother’s name and that’s when I noticed strange little things that coated his tongue and slid down his throat.
Small, slimy things. Almost like snails, or slugs.
He tried to spit them out, but couldn’t.
The doctor speculated that these little creatures were left behind by the aliens during the attack. I had no choice but to agree.
A bead of sweat ran down the young ship mate’s cheek, and onto his feverish lips. He licked it away, and the slug type creatures with no legs climbed down his throat.
He choked hard.
Coughed and choked again.
Then he tried to scrape his tongue with his teeth, but the doctor made him stop.
He opened his eyes and stared into mine. He felt the thread of worry pass through him even as I covered the feeling with a smile. The look of worry riddled his face. He felt the sense of fear and other emotions swirling, both nearby and far.
Then death entered his mind. The terror of death. The fear of death. The horror of death. The fear was so hot it would dissolve him if he let it.
Then, just like that. It dissipated. He was back to normal. The fever had broken. The little creatures that invaded his mouth were gone The USS Constant was no longer under siege by the fever.
Even the gray fog had faded a little...
Unless the aliens would come back with reinforcements...
© 2011 Frank Atanacio