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Deliberate, crunching footsteps echoed yours as you used the last of your stamina to drag yourself through the alien snow.
11:00 PM.
You'd been out here for what felt like hours. The welcoming beacon that was your ship's spotlight was long gone, as were those on the trail to the mansion's entrance. Even the glow from your flashlight was fading now as its battery steadily drained- the only equipment your crew could afford after paying the toll to route here. There was nothing more you could do but keep walking, scanning, walking, scanning, fruitlessly waiting for any landmark to emerge from the blizzard.
The only thing that did was the faint human silhouette behind you, patiently stalking, waiting for you to come within its reach. A Masked. The thing that had scattered your crew in the first place. You had heard of them before, and found the occasional bodyless, porcelain theatre mask on your prior missions, but you'd never dealt with a Masked in practice, never felt your heart drop to your Company-issued boots with the realization that the "crewmate" across the room was not any of your crew.
It was just the two of you now, endlessly wandering the exomoon's bleak forest.
You turned to face it as it came.
The creature stopped still, mere meters away from you, its empty, laughing "eyes" locked onto yours. Your instincts drove you to back away under its gaze, to give yourself a few more moments to live. The trunk of a tree soon halted your movement, and you lost your footing. Oh, well. It was 11:30 PM. Even if you knew which way to go, the autopilot would take off before you got there.
Come on, then. You looked tiredly into the mask. Get it over with.
Exhaustion caught up to you, and your eyes shut. The snow here was softer than those jokes of mattresses you had to use back on the ship.
The footsteps closed in again.
With any luck, the rest of your crew had made it to the ship by now. They would be watching you on the monitor, your own blue dot followed by another. They would understand what happened.
Gloved hands rested on your shoulders.
A twinge of regret passed over you. Maybe if you hadn't panicked. Maybe if you hadn't slipped down that disorienting ravine. Maybe if you had kept running for just a little while longer.
The weight of a body pressed against yours. Some warmth in the cold. The papery, hissing sound of two suits sliding against each other was oddly comforting, even now.
You waited, shivering, for a death that didn't come.
Cautiously, incredulously, you opened your eyes. The Masked was... embracing you. Not killing you, not converting you- yet. Maybe this is part of the process, you thought weakly. Maybe it's a slow death. Maybe you're dying already without even knowing it.
Well, what the hell. It's not like you could do much else now. You hugged the creature back, your visor pressing into its tattered suit. It was awkward, given the cumbersome oxygen tanks that you both wore, but you found a way, settling into the snow together.
Quiet sobs climbed up your throat without you realizing it. The confusion, the loneliness, the guilt of letting yourself get into this situation, the knowledge that you would die- it all caught up, and it was overwhelming.
12:00 PM.
Your helmets knocked gently against each other as the Masked gripped your shaking body tighter.
Everything would be okay.
You didn't have to worry anymore.
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