Chapter Text
Grace knows the layout of his cabin on Erid like the back of his own hand, having lived there for over three years, so navigating it in the pitch blackness it currently sits in is no problem. Okay, he tripped a couple times on random junk he’d left all over the floor yesterday, but aside from that there were no issues navigating to the kitchen.
An electrical storm near the biodome had taken out the power, and only life support is active on the emergency battery, which means no lights because the Eridians didn’t deem those as strictly necessary.
To be fair, the last time this had happened they weren’t, but now? Ryland would do anything to be able to see what’s wandering around in the dark.
To think he’d almost fallen back to sleep with it out there, vulnerable and snug under the covers in his bedroom. He’d only gotten up because he needed to pee, then decided he could go for a snack… he tucks himself further into the cabinet below the kitchen sink, shuddering as the sound of footsteps - too few to be Eridian, but accompanied by the click of claws, so it can’t be human, and there’s the weighty drag of what Ryland presumes is a tail, so yeah, definitely not human - come closer to his improvised hiding spot.
Oh god, he can hear its breathing it’s so close now. He clamps both hands over his face, holding his own breath in hopes of remaining undetected. If it can taste fear he’s dead, because the smell of it must be rolling off him in waves.
It’s almost panting, a rattle in its lungs becoming clearer with its approach. There’s also a wet, sticky sound when it paws at the random collection of items on the counter, like it has some sort of sticky, mucus-like coating.
A sharp pop, followed by a burst of frantic movement and water splashing on the floor and cabinet, dripping through the cracks has Grace frozen in place.
“Shhkt.”
The sound is something like a clicking hiss, spat out with the noise of too many teeth clacking together, and is shortly followed by the torn bag of water hitting the cabinet door, causing it to swing open, just the tiniest bit. Enough that if the creature has night vision it might be able to see Grace inside, if it looks his way.
Enough that were there any light at all, he could get a glimpse of the hungry monster currently rummaging through his supplies.
He’s going to die. Some animal got into the biodome, which means there must be ammonia leaking in too, and Rocky is going to find Grace’s half-eaten corpse once they fix the power and finally come check on him.
Hysterically, he wonders what kind of funeral they’ll hold for him. Definitely not open casket, there won’t be anything left to look at.
Not that funerals work the same for Eridians as they do for humans, but Grace can’t be bothered to reason with his brain while he’s so firmly convinced that death is standing two feet away from his face, biting into another water packet.
Feeling the co2 buildup threatening to take him from consciousness, he carefully, oh so carefully, peels his hands from his face and draws in a slow breath. It smells like blood, thick and heady, clinging to his throat and lungs.
He fights with every instinct in his body that wants him to cough, to expel the cloying taste of spoiled oxygen. Where is it all coming from?
It’s not his blood… unless it’d gotten into the medical cooler and torn apart the stored blood-bags he’s been collecting from himself in case of emergencies.
That’s probably where the leak in the dome is, isn’t it? The medical supplies are in a room that connects to the Eridian’s side of the dome. If something got into their environment, it would have a much easier time getting into his through that series of interconnected, and from Grace’s understanding, fully automated airlocks.
It isn’t enough that it’s trashing his kitchen, giving him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 46, and smelling like death warmed over- no, it just had to destroy his very limited supply of potentially life-saving blood and plasma.
Great. Just great. When it finds him he would’ve needed it too. Assuming he survives the mauling.
It’s walking away, aimlessly drifting towards the living room...? It sounds like it’s headed that way- a loud thud and another of those deep growls is confirmation enough; it must’ve tripped on the coffee table that Grace really needs to move back to where it belongs, instead of right in the middle of the doorway.
If it walks far enough into the house he might be able to make a run for the front door. Then he’ll just have to make it out to the outdoor panic room… There’s a radio in there, connected to the backup power; he’ll be able to tell Rocky or anyone else on the biodome team that something got in here with him.
Nodding to himself, Grace reaches out one trembling hand to push the cabinet door open the rest of the way, pausing and straining to hear anything from the living room. There’s a quiet shuffling, occasionally paired with a grumbling huff that sounds eerily like frustration. Grace has been away from humans for much too long, if he’s catching himself falling for the tricks of what’s probably some sort of mimic.
Either way, it’s distracted by the open bag of poorly synthesized chips on his couch, judging by the crinkling he hears.
Good.
Okay, he can do this, the door is closer than the creature in his living room. Grace knows exactly where the thing is, everything is pitch black, and it’s crashed into enough stuff that he knows it can’t see in the dark, so as long as he’s quiet, he’s basically home free.
Crawling out of his cramped hiding place, it takes way too much effort to fight Erid’s heavy gravitational pull and stand fully, so Grace settles for an awkward half crouch, half crawl to get from the kitchen to the front door. His socks get wet from the spilled water on the floor; it’s mixed with some blood, so it’s tacky on his hands too. Nausea crawls up his stomach, and it really is a battle of mind and body to not retch right there.
He manages it, adrenaline kicking in while the promise of safety inches ever closer as he reaches for the door handle, fingers brushing the cool metal…
And then the lights come back on.
Grace jumps back, yelping in shock, then realizing the severity of his mistake a moment later, but it’s too late. Whipping around, he sees it standing in the threshold of the room, looking directly at him.
It’s bipedal, and from his position on the floor it appears to be nearly his height, though with the added length of the finned tail dragging behind it, it’s much larger than him, and has enough muscle mass that he wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight.
If it weren’t for the lopsided mouth full of too many teeth, the fins, scales, and spikes, it could almost look human-adjacent, with those eyes… Or maybe that’s just Grace’s mind playing tricks on itself, trying to comprehend the horror movie he’s woken up in.
It takes a step forwards, and that’s enough to snap Grace out of his frozen trance.
He lunges for the door, bolting outside and beelining to the panic room at speeds he didn’t think he was still capable of.
He doesn’t look behind him to check if he’s being followed, the sound of scaly claws scrabbling across the floor and the rattle of the door being flung open again and rattling shut behind him is enough for Grace to know.
It’s right on his heels, sand scattering and calling after him with those guttural growling-clicking noises that almost sound like words. Grace will not be falling for the poor attempt at human mimicry today, thanks, he’s just going to keep running towards the edge of the biodome.
Just a little further, please, please let me make it.
Fear is thick and clammy on his skin, frost coating his lungs, fire spreading to his knees, needles prickling along his scalp and down the back of his neck.
The airlock is in sight, xenonite shimmering in the artificial moonlight. It doesn’t have a typical lock, there hasn’t been a need for that function, but Grace will be able to activate the sealing protocol which will keep it closed against any forces from inside the dome.
Now all he can hope for is that there’s enough distance between himself and the monster to give him time to get in without being caught and dragged to his death. He can’t hear how close it is behind him over his heart pounding in his ears.
Just a few more meters.
It’s a foot away.
An inch.
He reaches it!
Falling forwards, Grace is finally gripping the airlock handle with violently shaking hands and opening it just enough to slide in and slam it closed, hitting the big red ‘Emergency Seal’ button and collapsing to the floor.
He made it! He made it, thank God!
Curling into fetal position, his hands dig into his hair and Grace sobs, hiccuping and gasping for air much too fast to get any, lungs burning and desperate for it anyway. His ears are ringing and he’s going lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, but he can’t stop hyperventilating, muscles shaking uncontrollably from the exertion.
He can hear tapping on the xenonite barrier behind him, see the shadow cast by the artificial moonlight as it flickers a little; the storm must still be affecting the power.
It’s stuck out there, it can’t get in, he’s fine, even if the power goes out again the emergency seal won’t deactivate. He just needs to wait till Rocky gets here and it’ll all be- He forgot to radio Rocky.
Grace still can’t breathe right, he’s much too shaken to do anything, but help isn’t coming for him at this hour until he calls for it; he’d made sure of it when he’d been rudely awoken the last time the power went out in the middle of the night.
“If life support is on, I don’t need to be woken up to know whether or not the fridge is running. What am I going to do about it anyways?”
Curse his past self. He doesn’t want to cross the short distance from where he’s curled up on the floor to the radio on the wall. A deep growl and a louder bang against the barrier from directly behind him is enough to remind him of his previous level of fear and urgency; Grace shoves himself up off the floor, stumbling the final stretch to the call button, holding it down and waiting for the connection to establish.
“Grace? Power is back online, why are you calling from the panic room, question?”
Grace breathes out a sigh of utter relief, shoulders dropping at the warbling sound of his best friend’s voice.
“Rocky! Rocky, something got into the biodome, I don’t know what it is but-“ He forces himself to turn and look at the thing.
It’s right up against the barrier, looming over him, one clawed hand resting on the clear wall separating them, the other- its other arm is missing, a broken bone jutting out of a mess of partly coagulated blood and ragged scales.
Up this close, he can see how its skin is peeling off its body in places, how teeth sprawl from the corner of a scarily human mouth up into the tangled knots of long, dark hair. It’s absolutely drenched in blood, Grace’s blood, presumably.
It’s too much.
Grace throws up. The undigested contents of his late-night dinner coating the floor in front of him.
“Grace?? Help is coming! Stay in panic room, do not move!”
He couldn’t if he wanted to. The only thing keeping him from passing out is the adrenaline in his system; it’s a hell of a drug. Sudden movement in the corner of his eye drags Grace’s attention back to the thing outside. It’s clutching its side and looking around frantically, pressing bodily into the xenonite.
There’s more fins jutting out of its back, blood-soaked skin torn around the largest one, as if it had erupted from between its shoulder blades. As Grace watches, its movements slow, then eventually cease, body slumping over onto the sand.
The airlock opens behind him, and Rocky is there, in his xenonite suit, barreling into Grace’s side and pulling him close. Grace reciprocates, holding onto his friend like a lifeline, tucking his face close to that familiar carapace so he doesn’t have to watch the monster get dragged away by the Eridians inside the dome.
“Is okay. Rocky is here. Breathe, Grace.”
He sniffles, tears falling in earnest. “I thought I was going to die, Rock, I thought it was gonna kill me.”
“Is contained now. Grace is okay. Grace is alive. Safe.”
Rocky simplifies his words, like he used to do when they first met. The melody is easier to understand than the more layered tones Grace has only begun to learn. He appreciates the consideration for his tiny human brain.
“I don’t think I can go back in there, Rocky.”
Rocky hums, low and even. “Need to check for leaks. Grace stay in initial habitat, from during biodome construction. Rocky watch sleep.”
Grace has never been so happy in his life to hear those last three words.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for Grace.” Rocky croons, with conviction. “No apology sufficient for lack of foresight. Grace could have died. Rocky’s fault.”
“Well, I’m still alive, and it’s because of a panic room you built even though I didn’t think it was necessary, so…”
Grace doesn’t have the energy to give the argument the vehemence it deserves, but Rocky doesn’t fight him on it, so he takes it as a win.
"It smells really bad in here. Can we go now?"
Strong limbs heft him up, supporting his jellied legs, "Yes. Go now. Grace need sleep."
Grace isn't sure he'll ever sleep again, but he nods anyways, letting himself be helped through dimly lit hallways to safety.