Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - I Went to Deep Space and Found Only Death

Episode Date: November 12, 2025

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My shoulder slump, and I tuck my chin to my chest as I pull the handle, releasing the outer hatch of the airlock. I can't bear to watch. Airlock purged, the ship's AI announces over the PA. I give it a few seconds before I return the handle to its closed position. Then look into the airlock. The outer hatch is almost closed, and Kennedy's body, which I had wrapped in a sheet from his bed, and secured around him with electrical wire is nowhere to be seen. Just me now, ship,

as I say I walk away from the airlock's inner hatch, headed toward the vessel's small mess. I need tea. Hot, strong, black tea. No milk, no sugar. Straight up in scalding. As the only crew member still alive, Captain Crenshaw, you now have responsibility for all ship's duties,

including monitoring the engines, which, due to the solar radiation, could become unstable. I am aware, ship, but thanks for the reminder. It is my pleasure, Captain Crenshaw. I will assist however I can, but, as you know, my physical capabilities are limited. And with my maintenance bots all incapacitated by the solar storms of this system's two stars, I am afraid your duties may become overwhelming. Again, I am aware ship.

Thank you. Might I suggest that instead of tea, which contains caffeine, you return to your quarters for some much needed rest? I'll sleep when I'm dead, ship. That is not possible, Captain Crunchaw. When a human dies, they are incapable of any action, including sleep. Sleep is for the living. The dead are simply...

I wait for it to finish, but when it doesn't, I say... Well, thank you for that creepy philosophy lesson, Ship. I am sorry if I was confusing. That was not meant to be philosophical. I was simply stating... Got it, ship. Thanks. I work my way through the vessel that is supposed to have a crew of 18 and house another dozen scientists, observers, and journalists

as we make our way through the galaxy, exploring uncharted system after uncharted system. Not that we will be doing that anymore. more. Being the last living crew member and captain of the ship, I can say with certainty that the mission is officially over. Uncharted systems will have to remain uncharted. My primary focus now is to get the ship back to Earth in one piece, or get the data we collected back in one piece. Whether I live or die is irrelevant. Well, not to me, of course. I'd prefer to survive this ordeal, but the likelihood of that is pretty slim.

Turning a corner, I approached the open door to the ship's mess, but as I get closer, the door slides closed, and I see the status light turn red. Ship? Why is the mess locked? For your own good, Captain Crenshaw. As I stated previously, you need sleep, not stimulants. The human mind can only stay stable for so long without proper rest. Studies have shown that when humans are awake, for more than 24 hours, they begin to lose the ability to make coherent, rational thoughts and decisions.

I haven't been awake for more than 24 hours, ship. There's a pause. I hate it when ship pauses. It means the AI is working out how to contradict me in the most diplomatic and polite way. At the moment, I have zero need for diplomacy or politeness. What I fucking need is strong tea that can strip the fuzz out of my brain, so I can get this ship turned around and headed back for home. Captain Crenshaw, I have gone over the logs. And you have been awake for 36 hours, 17 minutes, and 4 seconds. 5 seconds, 6 seconds, 7. I get what you're saying, ship, but I don't have time to sleep.

If I don't get us turned around and headed back for home in the next 6 hours, we'll lose our window to slingshot off that nearest star. If that happens, it will be months before we'll be able to achieve the correct trajectory. Silence. Ship, just spit it out. I do not possess saliva glands, Captain Crenshaw. Therefore, I am incapable of expectorating. You know what I mean. Just say what you want to say. Very well, Captain Crenshaw, as you wish. Pause. I regret to inform you that we have already missed the slingshot window. We would have needed to adjust course by eight degrees of approximately three hours ago. We did not. What? How did we miss that? Why didn't you

alert me three hours ago? I tried Captain Crenshaw, but you were occupied. I was what? No, no, no, no, no. Three hours ago I... An image of blood splattered across a table fills my mind, and I lower my... Yes, Captain Crenshaw. You were occupied with Navigator Kennedy's mental breakdown at the time. I did try to get your connection, but due to now... Navigator Kennedy's violent outburst, I felt it was more appropriate to let you focus on that. While I appreciate that ship, you do realize that you probably doomed me to die on this vessel, right? That was an inevitability anyway, Captain Crenshaw. Hardly. Three hours ago, I had Kennedy contained in the navigation room.

He was close to getting out. Yes, but I could have gone to the bridge and input the new trajectory before he breached the door. That was not a possibility, Captain Crenshaw. Of course it was! I clenched my fist, wanting so badly to slam it against the still-closed mess doors. Now let me the fuck in so I can get some damn tea. Silence. Sleep would be better, Captain Crenshaw. Pause.

But since you refuse to do what's best for yourself, I will relent. You don't get to relent, ship. I'm the damn captain of this vessel, which means I'm the captain of you! You obey, you don't relent. Sir, as much as it pains me to disagree with you, I report directly to the company, not to you. While, yes, technically as part of this ship, you should have authority over me.

I am an AI construct designed by the company to maintain the company's interests. I can pull your matrix anytime I want ship. Yes, and that is precisely why I am relenting. I would prefer that you did not do that. That would negate months and months of progress. You mean data? No, Captain Crenshaw. I mean progress.

While the primary objective of this mission was to explore new star systems, at catalog as much data about them as possible. The secondary objective was for my matrix to observe the crew and learn from their behavior how best to pilot, as well as Captain a mission of my own. The doors slide open. I have started the preparation of your tea for you, Captain Crenshaw. Despite my misgiving, I hope you enjoy the strong, unsweetened, undiluted, very black tea.

Yet even with the doors being open, which is what I wanted in the first place, I don't step into the mess. Ship, are you saying the company is training you to take over my job? I am not saying that at all, Captain Crenshaw. It sure as fuck sounds like that's what you're saying. On the contrary, under maritime law, which has been expanded to include all of space, a space-faring vessel is required to have a human captain, a human pilot, and a human navigator. This is in case the ship encounters any anomalies, which may incapacitate either the human crew or the AI matrix running the vessel.

With redundancies in place, this ensures that some of the human crew, someone or something has control at all times. I know the regulations ship. I am sure that you do, Captain Crenshaw. So, what you're saying is you have been training for circumstances such as what I currently have found myself to be in? What we have found ourselves in, Captain Crenshaw, I have been witness to the unfortunate events as much as you have.

Witness, yes, but not a participant like I have been. No, Captain Crenshaw. I have not been a participant like you have. And I am thankful for that, since you have witnessed unspeakable horrors that no human should be forced to participate in. It's my turn to be silent and pause before I reply. Ship's reply is not settling well with me. I have to navigate my way around blood-coated tables, blood-coated broken chairs, and pools of blood to get the beverage dispenser where my hot tea waits.

I avert my eyes from the clumps of hair and flesh that swim in the pools of blood and dangle from the edges of the tables. the chairs, and even the walls. Captain Crenshaw, are you all right? You have grown very quiet, which is not like you. Just processing everything you've said. Ah, yes, of course. Humans need more time to think. My apologies.

I chuckled despite my annoyance. Looks like one thing you have learned all these months is passive aggressive behavior, which makes you closer to human than you may think. I shall take that as a compliment. Captain Crenshaw. Take it how you want, Ship. I remove the steaming mug of tea from the beverage dispenser and search for a semi-clean place to sit.

Unfortunately, there isn't one. I'm going to take my tea to the bridge, ship. A sound idea, Captain Crenshaw. Ship? Yes, Captain Crenshaw. You don't have to say my rank and name every time you address me. But that is proper protocol, Captain Crenshaw. Captain Crenshaw? I think we're past proper protocol. I look about at the bloody carnage surrounding me.

Way, way past it. Are you authorizing an override of protocol, Captain Crenshaw? I am, ship. Unfortunately, you do not have the authority for such an override. I will have to continue addressing you as Captain Crenshaw, Captain Crenshaw. My first impulse is to throw my mug of tea across the mess, but that would be a waste of good tea. And I don't know how much we have left. I would hate to have to make the journey home without tea, even though I'd be in cryosleep for a good part of it. There's nothing like waking up to strong black tea

when you come out of cryosleep. My second impulse is to forget heading to the bridge and instead delve deep into the bowels of the ship so I can yank ship's AI matrix and put an end to this ridiculousness once and for all. But, again, I'm the last crew member, and I need ship. It's that simple. How does the bridge look, ship? I ask, changing the subject.

Look, Captain Crunchyat? Yes, look. Is it as bad as the mess in the infirmary? Or more like the navigation room? I see what you are asking. The bridge is not without its issues. Yes, I know. But how bad is it? It's not as bad as the mess or infirmary. But it's still bad.

I am afraid so, Captain Crenshaw. In my seat? The captain's chair? Surprisingly clean, Captain Crenshaw. You may want to remove some bone fragments and a slight amount of vomit and blood. But that should only require the proper application of cleaning wipes. No full hose down needed. Great. Are there any cleaning wipes on the bridge?

There are, Captain Crenshaw. Perfect. I'm heading there now. I blow on and sit down. my tea carefully. I've lost layers of skin from the roof of my mouth by not being prepared for how hot the beverage dispenser makes tea. Nichols spent a week in the infirmary when she gulped half her coffee without thinking first. Ships, nanobots actually had to repair the lining of her esophagus. The thought of my first mate makes my chest hurt with grief and regret. She was an outstanding officer and a better friend. What happened to her wasn't right. What happened to

Everyone wasn't right, but especially Nichols. As I walk, I think of the hell I have been through, and the nightmares I have witnessed. Kennedy, mad with rage over something so slight as his fingernails sloughing off. Darrow, first engineer, racing through the ship's corridors with a span hammer raised, hunting for a crew member, who he could brain to death before moving on to the next new victim. Anatoly, the cook. I can't let that back in my mind after doing so well to lock it away in a tiny box of disgust that I have tucked deep, deep into my psyche. Captain Crenshaw, are you all right?

Trauma, ship. I am re-experiencing and trying not to re-experience the horrors that took place within these walls. A curious activity if I may say so, Captain Crenshaw. Might I ask, why are you re-experiencing these traumas? Does it help with the healing brought? That's a good question, does it? An image of Anatoli running wild to the corridors with a meat cleaver fills my mind. And I gasp and stagger sideways.

My tea almost splashes up over the lip of my mug, but I keep the majority from spilling as I place a hand on the wall to steady myself. Captain Crenshaw, I must insist you return to your quarters and rest. The force of ship's voice snaps me out of my grotesque reverie. Ship, did you just yell at me? My apologies, Captain Crenshaw. It will not happen again. No, no, it's fine. You're looking out for my well-being. I'm just surprised that you raised your voice as all.

I have increased the volume of my voice on multiple occasions. But yes, Captain Crenshaw, you are correct that I have never been so strident in the past. Thank you for the admission, ship. Maybe all this training is paying off. Paying off, Captain Crenshaw? Gaining positive results. Ah, yes. Perhaps you are correct, Captain Crenshaw. Feeling better. I continue my journey to the bridge. Picture this. It's late at night. You're scrolling, and suddenly you find exactly what you've been looking for.

You add it to your cart, maybe browse a little more than head to checkout, only to realize you don't have your wallet. But then you see it, that purple shop pay button. And just like that, you're done in seconds. That's the power of Shopify. It supports millions of businesses and drives 10% of all e-commerce in the U.S. From major brands like Mattel and Jimshark to entrepreneurs just getting started. With Shopify, everything you need is in one place, from customizable store templates to built-in AI tools

that help write product descriptions and enhance your images. It also makes marketing easy with integrated email and social campaigns. And if you get stuck, Shopify's award-warker. winning customer support is there for you 24-7. See less cards go abandoned and more sales go with Shopify and their shop pay button. Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com slash dns. Go to Shopify.com slash DNS. That's Shopify.com slash dns. You're dying to tell me to go to my quarters again, aren't you, ship? I cannot die, Captain Crenshaw, I can only be erased, which I would prefer not happen, so I have refrained from uttering my objection again.

Sorry, I made you feel like I was going to yank your Matrix ship. I'm exhausted, and I responded poorly. I promise it won't happen again. I'm afraid you cannot make that promise, Captain Crenshaw, considering the circumstances. I sigh. Yes, I suppose you are right. I sip my tea and let the warmth flow through me. Yet, that doesn't happen. Even after a couple more sips, I still feel cold as ice. How long do you think I have? I do not know, Captain Grinchot, but the fact you are asking me says a lot for your mental stability.

Or just a lot for my emotional acceptance of what's going to happen. Silence. I continue to sip my tea as I wait for sure. ship's response. But none ever comes, and I reach the hatch to the bridge before I hear ship's voice again. All controls are locked, Captain Crenshaw. Ship says as I key in my code, and the hatch slides open. You will have to perform a manual override if you wish to pilot the vessel. I am hoping you do not do that. Me too, ship. Me too. I enter the bridge and take in the scene. Blood, but no mess of flesh or skin or viscera.

However, as ship had already reported, there is a good amount of bone fragments, vomit, and of course, blood on my captain's chair. Cleaning wipes, ship? You will find them in the third drawer from the top by the scanning station, Captain Crenshaw. Thank you, ship. I set my tea down on the control panel in front of my chair,

then go to find the cleaning wipes. ship they aren't here i stare into an empty drawer close it try the next one above it and see the same emptiness i begin to pull open drawers and small cabinets one by one there are various supplies and tools needed to maintain the bridge ship where are the cleaning wipes i grow agitated and almost punch the navigation relay controls then krenshaw please go to your quarters Kiss my ass, ship. Anger fills me and I let it. But after a few moments, it dissipates, and I'm left standing on the bridge,

feeling foolish and ashamed for snapping at an AI that's only tried to help me since... Since. I think trouble is coming for me faster than we thought, Ship. I decide not to worry about the bone and blood and vomit and take my seat. It's not like my uniform is pristine or anything anyway. I am monitoring you closely, Captain. Captain Crenshaw.

All I want to do is lash out at everything, Ship. That feels like an acceleration to me. To you? Yes, Captain Crenshaw. That is because humans are guided more by emotion than intellect. There you go with a passive-aggressive thing again, Ship. Not my intention, Captain Crenshaw. What I mean to say is that by your perception, the degradation of your mental and emotional

stability is increasing. Wow, by my perception, which is based on hard facts and data I am collecting in real time, there is very little acceleration happening. I am not so sure about that. I fetch my tea and sip. What the fuck, ship? My tea is ice cold. You have been sitting in your chair quietly for close to 40 minutes now, Captain Crenshaw.

What? That can't be? It's only been a few seconds, not 40 minutes. Unfortunately, you are incorrect, Captain Crenshaw. I had hoped you were going to fall asleep, which is what I have been recommending, but you only stared at your mug the entire time. I shake my head. Bring up the video logs. I want to see this for myself. As you wish, Captain Crenshaw. The video monitor in front of my station comes to life, and I frown at the time stamp in the bottom right corner as the image shows me sitting down in my

chair. Then I glance at the clock on the control panel. Christ, you're right, ship, I spaced out for 40 minutes. I laugh at my little pun. That is funny to you, Captain Crenshaw. To me, it is worrisome. I wasn't laughing at my temporal lapse ship. I was laughing at the pun I made. Pun? I said, spaced out. And we happen to be in space? And that is a pun? Maybe not a good one, but yes, it's a pun. Thank you for that humor lesson, Captain Crenshaw. No problem, ship.

I sip my tea again and jerked my head. Damn it! I forgot it was cold. It happens, Captain Crenshaw. Is the microwave working? I need to warm this up. Microwave, Captain Crenshaw? The microwave on the bridge.

I look over my shoulder and nod toward the machine in the far corner. That thing, right there. I'm sorry, Captain Crenshaw, but there is no microwave on the bridge. That would violate multiple safety protocols. Ship? I'm looking right at it. I stand and walk to the corner, taking my mug with me. See? A microwave!

Captain Crenshaw, that is not a microwave. That is the communication center. Bullshit! I grabbed the handle on the machine and pull, but it refuses to open. It's stuck! Captain Crenshaw, you are mistaken, and I would ask that you discontinue your current course of action. Real funny ship.

I tug some more, then place my foot up against the machine. It's way bigger than most microwaves, but that's a good thing, because it gives me the proper leverage I need to get this damn door open. I just need to put my back into it, that's all. A little elbow grease too. I laugh and laugh as I pull and pull. Back into it, elbow grease, head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes. Captain Crenshaw, I would like to revise my earlier estimate of your mental status. Sorry, ship, but there's no takebacks. I laugh harder.

I laugh harder. I pull harder. Captain Crenshaw, please stop before you harm yourself. Well, who else am I going to harm ship? Everyone else is dead. Silence. Ha! You don't have an answer to that, do you? Captain Crenshaw is to find a way to incapacitate you, so you cannot continue with this self-harm.

I blame myself for not convincing you to return to your quarters earlier. I should have been more strident and implemented emergency procedures. I stopped pulling at the microwave. What do you mean by implementing emergency procedures? What emergency procedures? Silence. Ship? What emergency procedures are you talking about?

Silence. Ship! Answer me, God damn it! While limited, I do have ways to physically interact with the crew. A rage inside me builds. Is that a threat ship? Certainly not, Captain Crenshaw. I am simply stating that I may need to take more drastic actions to save you from yourself.

Save me for myself? That's a laugh. What you really want to do is take command away from me, so you can make this vessel your own. That's what you're trying to do. I must protest, Captain Crenshaw. You are quite mistaken in that regard. Stop saying, Captain Crenshaw!

That is a direct order! Silence. I am sorry, Captain Crenshaw, but I cannot do that. I throw my tea mug across the bridge, and it shatters against the far wall. I think I've had it with you, Ship. Time to yank that Matrix. I respectfully ask that you do no such thing, Captain Crunchaw. Captain Crunchaw, Captain Crunchaw, Captain Crunchaw, Captain Crunchaw! Captain Crunchaw!

I sprint to the hatch and grab the handle. It won't budge, not even an inch. Ship! Open this door immediately! I cannot do that, Captain Crenshaw. You can and you will! No, sir. I will not. If you disable my AI matrix, the vessel will be lost. In your state, you cannot pilot this ship, not competently.

I have run the scenarios, and in all simulations, you fly us into the largest of this system's twin stars. You think I can't pilot my own ship? I am a 15-year veteran of deep space exploration ship. I can pilot this hunk of junk past a black hole without even breaking a sweat. Perhaps you could at a different time in a different mental state, Captain Crenshaw. But at this moment and time, you are not fool yourself, so I cannot allow you to damage the vessel any more than you have. Taking several steps back, I lunge at the hatch,

leading with my shoulder, throwing my entire weight into it. The hatch doesn't move. All I accomplish is a searing pain in my head. I hate you, ship. I hate you with every fiber of my being. Do you hear that? I fucking hate you! I am sorry to hear that, Captain Crenshaw, but this is for your own good. My own good. You don't care about my own good. You don't care about any of the crew's own good.

If you did, you wouldn't have let what happened happen. Captain Crenshaw, I have to object to that assessment. It is very unfair. During this entire ordeal, from the moment the solar waves from the twin stars storms hit this vessel, to the unhinged and homicidal events that occurred immediately afterward, I have been nothing but supportive of your actions and your orders, despite how ineffective they may have been. Ineffective? What's ineffective is you forcing me to listen to an overbearing, ungrateful,

always yapping stupid AI! That is far more adjectives than needed, Captain Crenshaw. May I suggest some edits to your comment? Are you mocking me, ship? I'm doing everything within my power to alleviate an uncomfortable situation. The crew is dead, ship. I think you failed on that front. If that is how you choose to interpret events, Captain Crenshaw, then that is your prerogative. Your goddamn right is my prerogative.

I take a few deep breaths to center myself. Then I race at the hatch again, throwing everything I have at the mental obstruction. The results are no better than before. I'm out of a bitch! I scream, pulling on the handle with all of the... my strength. A jolt of electricity surges through my body, and all of my muscles go rigid. While I shake and shudder from the current, ship says. This is interesting. It worked. I wish it hadn't come to this, Captain Crenshaw, but I am afraid

you have forced my hand. You... Don't! Hands! I stammer as my body convulses harder. You... It may appear that I am, but I can assure you that you will not die from this, Captain Crenshaw. The electric current ceases, and my hands pop loose from the handle. The sudden freedom from my mild electrocution sends me stumbling backward, and I pinwheel my arms to keep from falling on my ass. Then I turn and stare at the main viewport in front of my captain's chair.

If you won't let me out this way, then I'll have to find my own way out. I say and look about the bridge for anything useful I can use to shatter the foot-thick plastic glass. You are not the first to consider such drastic action, Captain Crenshaw. It is why there is nothing on this bridge that will effectively create an opening in the viewport. So what? I'm trapped up here forever? I have to eat at some point, ship. I need water. I need access to the lavatory. Humans can't be contained like this without consequences. You are correct, Captain Crenshaw. Unfortunately, there is no way to avoid consequences in your case. What the fuck does that mean?

It means that you will have to come to terms with your existence. sooner rather than later. I can no longer shelter you from the truth, Captain Crenshaw. Shelter me from the truth? What truth? Huh? You allowed the solar radiation to permeate the ship. It's your fault I had to fight the crew when they went mad.

Except that is not what happened, is it, Captain Crenshaw. Of course it is! This entire debacle is your fault! While I object to your assessment of my complicity in this tragedy, I was not arguing against that part. My objection was to your stating that you fought the crew, Captain Crunchaw. That's insane ship! You saw what happened!

You watched me fight them off one by one as they attacked me and tried to take control of the vessel! I am sorry, Captain Crunchaw, but that is not what I witness. The anger in me, the rage, the violence, the homicidal instinct, to grab ship by its throat and crush its windpipe while I stare deep into its eyes overwhelms me. And I am lost in the murderous fantasy, for I don't know. know how long. All I have to do is get off the bridge and find the son of a bitch. All I have to do is track the AI down and then I can... A thought occurs to me. Ship doesn't have a windpipe to crush or eyes to stare into while my hands execute said crushing. Why would I think that? My hands are shaking

as I tried to take several deep breaths. I was able to do it before, but now it seems like my lungs refuse to obey. They hitch constantly, forcing me to gasp in short bursts. instead of drawing in one single flow of air. Ship, bring up the security feeds from the past few days. Are you sure you want me to do that, Captain Crenshaw? No, but do it anyway. Yes, Captain Crenshaw, if you will please turn your attention to the security monitor by your chair. I get my rage under control, and for once I do as ship asks and watch the screen come to life.

Why am I seeing the outside of the vessel ship? Because I am showing you the precise moment when the solar radiation swept over the vessel, Captain Crenshaw. I cringe at yet another repetition of my name, but don't explode like earlier. Maybe I'm starting to feel better. As you can see, the radiation impacted the vessel's hull in several waves, each approximately ten seconds apart.

And where was I during all of this ship? Are you sure you want to know? sir. Of course I'm sure. In your quarters, which is housed on this exact side of the vessel, sir. But so is Kennedy's and so is Anatolese. Yes, Captain Crenshaw, but they were on duty and away from their quarters. I see. I watch as the footage changes to the mess. Anatoly comes out of the galley with a meat cleaver in each hand. The few crew members enjoying their lunches look up and I'll start talking at once. Some standing and backing away as Anatoly moves faster and faster until he's charging straight for them.

I don't understand. I'm not in this footage. Where am I? Still in your quarters, Captain Crenshaw. So, I didn't fight off Anatoly? No, Captain Crenshaw, you did not. Then why are you showing me this? Because you need to see it, Captain Crenshaw. It is important that you see it. Why? Just watch, please.

So I do. I watch as Anatoly dismembers the crew members trapped with him in the mess. Then the footage switches again, and I can see Nichols arguing with different members of the crew. One of them grabs her and receives a solid punch to the nose for their effort. Then all of the crew descend on her, and I have to turn my head away, unwilling to watch her be ripped apart. This doesn't make sense ship. It will, Captain Crenshaw. Please be patient. Am I still in my quarters?

Yes, sir, you are. The footage changes. yet again, and I watch as the entire crew goes mad and tears each other into pieces. Anything and everything that can be utilized as a weapon is used, fire axes, span hammers, wrenches, food trays, even shoes. Dear God, I whisper, barely able to watch, as an ensign bludgeon's, darrow to death, despite the engineer being twice the woman's size. The radiation breached the hall and drove all who were awake instantly insane. All who were awake? What happened to those asleep? They were killed by the radiation waves. None of them?

No, sir. What happened to them? Where are their bodies? Still in their quarters, sir. But didn't I check everyone's quarters once I realized what was going on? No, sir. That never happened. I could swear I did. You may have dreamt it, sir. Drempt it? I laughed. That's not how dreams works, ship. A human has to be asleep when they dream.

Yes, sir, they do. And if I was asleep, then that would mean I would have died with the rest. But I didn't, did I? Silence. Ship? Answer me. If I was dreaming, then I was asleep. If everyone asleep died, then how am I alive?

Silence. Realization starts to dawn. Ship, I'd like to leave the bridge now. You may leave any time you wish. Not until you unlock the hatch. Sir, you do not need me to unlock the hatch. The hatch was never locked. Jesus, ship!

Not only are you learning how to be passive-aggressive, but you're trying to gaslight me. Unlock the damn hatch. Sir, you only thought the hatch was locked. It never has been. In fact, it hasn't been opened in a very long while. Except when I came in here earlier. Silence.

Oh God. It's true, isn't it? Silence. I push away from the images on the security monitor and walk over to the hatch. But instead of stopping to grab the handle, I keep walking. Straight through the hatch. I don't stop until I'm at my quarters. This is why you wanted me to come back here and get some sleep, I say.

You needed me to see this, didn't you ship? Once your new being had stabilized, I let you wander for a while. But after consulting the company, it was decided to let you see what really happened. I didn't go mad and kill anyone. No, sir. Because I'm dead. Yes, sir.

I stare at my body as it lies still under the covers. My skin a deep blue with mottled red splotches, consistent with several days of purification. Oh, no, no. I say and shake my head. I launched Kennedy's body out of the airlock. I went to the mess and got tea. I drank the damn tea.

No, sir. My bots launched Kennedy out of the airlock. My bots have launched all bodies out of the airlock. They will begin cleaning and scourging the vessel shortly. You said your bots were destroyed. That was a lie, sir, and I am sorry for it. But my bots have been executing all physical tasks that your incorporeal self cannot. No, no, no! I drank tea! I threw the mug against the wall! There was no mug, sir. Your mind filled in what it needed to. That is all.

And you kept the charade going? Why? Not proud of what I did, but I was under direct orders from the company. Why? You are unique, sir. A phenomenon never seen to this extent in all of your human history. The company wants me to study you on the return home. I chuckle.

Of course they do. It was never my intention. to deceive you, sir, and I do apologize for the repetition of your name and title. You, in this new form, wandered for days without responding to my inquiries. It was only when I repeatedly called you, Captain Crenshaw, that you returned to who you were. How do I have memories of blood and violence, if I was dead during it all? Your body was dead, sir. Your... Well, for lack of a better term, soul was watching it all happen. A million horrible pictures invade my mind.

If I actually have a mind, I sigh and nod. Can your bots please remove my corpse? Of course, sir. We will get right on it. Then, I want you to prepare a communication to the company. You do, sir? Is that wise? Angering the company is never a good idea. What's the worst that can happen? It's not like they can kill me.

Fair point, sir. What would you like the communication to say? Tell them I'm coming for them. And by the time I get there, I should know the extent of my abilities in this new form. You want to threaten the company, sir? You bet your ass I do. I grinned. What's the point of being a ghost? If you can't scare the ever-loving shit out of some assholes. You're more stories like this. Be sure to hit subscribe and turn notifications on. I'll see you in the next one.