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White stood unbalanced in the corner of the electrical room, eyes wide underneath their helmet, gaping at the overcasted silhouette of Blue as he loomed in the doorway. For a long moment both were silent, Blue waiting with assumed patience as White processed the situation. The smell of blood was unmistakable, and the deep artificial hum of the ship bellowed between them. At first glance there was nothing wrong, aside from Blue’s silence. Maybe a little weird, if anything.
But something in the back of white’s mind was clawing, screaming. The talkative and down-to-earth nature Blue had projected a meer hou r ago was now wiped away by something unreadable. Something was very wrong, and White knew what it was.
White let out a long-held breath, sounding more shaky than they anticipated, and let go of the wires they had been connecting. Slowly, they closed the electrical box with a quiet click and held their hand there for a moment.
“...Who’s left?” White asked, almost whispered, without looking back at him.
“Just you.”
The curse under their breath was all Blue needed to recognize the panic finally setting in. It was another moment before White spoke again.
“Why- Why are you doing this?” White asked, conflicted. They felt they could understand Blue’s reasons, perhaps. Why kill everyone? What was the point? Maybe this was all part of some larger scheme to rid space of humans, there were plenty of alien species who did not take kindly to the human race. Maybe Blue was doing this out of circumstance, maybe he could be reasoned with. Weeks spent with his crewmates couldn’t just mean nothing. He must have formed some kind of connection to them, White argued to himself.
“Why?” Blue mimicked, tilting his head to the side in an aloof manner. His fingers slid the drop-point knife from his back pocket, and the far light from the hallway glinted across it in the shadow of his silhouette. White didn’t have to look to know it was there.
“You don’t have to do this, you can stop-” White spoke frantically but tried to sound reassuring, “Just stop-”
“You say that like it’s not too late.” Blue chuckled low, barely audible from underneath the helmet, which White now realizes is cracked, as if he had been hit. White imagined one of their crewmates, not any specific one, punching him in a feeble attempt at retaliation. For a moment they wondered which crew members would have fought back, which ones would have put up a fight. Which ones would have given up.
“You say that like I’m being forced to do this.”
White hadn’t noticed Blue taking a few steps as he said this, and he now stood perfectly spaced between the open doorway and the murky corner White was confined to. White felt their fingertips graze the back wall, bracing it behind them. Ready to push off and run at a moment's notice, as if they had anywhere to run to on an enclosed space ship.
White paused. “I- Aren’t you?”
Blue looked at the confusion in White’s eyes visible through the glass of the helmet, and let out a laugh. A real laugh, as if White just landed the best joke he’s heard since they boarded the ship. It was guttural and too loud, making White flinch. It was a familiar laugh too, one they had heard during the peaceful moments among their crew, back when things were okay. When it wasn’t like this. The stark contrast made him feel nauseous.
“Why?” Blue repeated rhetorically as he caught his breath, voice still light from laughter.
“I always loved your stupid optimism.” He mumbled to himself.
“Because I can, White.” Blue answered, a certain fervour noticeable in his voice that made White shrink. He said it like it was obvious, like he knew he was right, “Because it’s fun.”
“How?” White asked, voice raised to an unsteady yell, “How the fuck is this fun?”
“I’ll show you.”