BURNING MOON
The moon was burning.
Project Artemis had launched three months ago. Half of that time was spent on the journey, a quarter of the time was spent refurbishing the stations from the Russian Empire’s LUNA programme, and the rest of the time had been spent trying desperately to survive as the group of seven astronauts very quickly discovered why LUNA had been shut down after a mere two years.
Every single scientist had assumed the moon was dead; that there could be no life on it without oxygen. The five remaining astronauts of Project Artemis soon discovered otherwise. Contrarily to everyone’s expectations, the moon was ablaze with life and fury.
Three of the remaining astronauts were from the British homeland and the other two were from the colonies, perhaps as a gesture of goodwill for the newly signed United Hegemony. But regardless of their origins, the five Hegemonic astronauts were cowering in the derelict Russian base, trying to decipher signs they could not read and watch out for dangers that could be anywhere.
“Sterling to crew. Another heatwave is coming. Watch yourselves.”
“Understood, Sterling. Any sign of the local wildlife?”
Sterling did not respond. Until he did.
“Sterling to crew. Another heatwave is coming. Watch yourselves.”
“Sterling, you’ve already said that. What’s happening? Is there a problem with the communications?”
“Sterling to crew. Another heatwave is coming. Watch yourselves.”
“Sterling! Where are you? What’s happened?” Rook yelled frantically into his communications system.
“Sterling to crew,” the message came again in Sterling’s calm, authoritative voice. But then its tones were replaced by the low, gravelly voice of Rook. “Where are you?”
The crew realised what had happened. The wildlife was learning.
Rook rapidly cut Sterling’s helmet out of the system. “Everyone, I fear the worst has happened to Sterling. Assemble in the pod bay. As acting commander, I need to make sure we’re all here,”
“Understood, Rook.”
“Understood, Rook.”
“Understood, Sterling.”
“Good to hear- wait, come again, Kestrel?”
“Understood, Sterling. Any sign of the local wildlife?”
“Kestrel is compromised,” Rook muttered, cutting him out of the communications array. “Change of plans; assemble atop the roof. By God and the Hegemon-Empress, we’ll survive this attack.” While Rook tried his hardest to sound confident, questions upon questions littered his mind. Why now? The past week had been silent, the creatures seemingly satiated with the disappearances of Swift and Crane. But their losses had been unexpected. Random. It happened because they were unaware. But now the creatures were learning. They learned how to strike through the astronauts’ vigilance. And now-
Rook stood atop the roof. It was silent for a moment, and he feared the worst. Then, Crow and Ibis appeared, hand in hand, and Rook was relieved.
“They’re getting smarter. Fast.” Ibis remarked. She wanted to sound calm, but fear tinged her every word.
“I know.” Rook responded.
The three of them sat silently atop the roof for a moment, admiring the pale blue forests in the distance, peaceful grey fish-like titans swimming in the space above them.
Then the heatwave came.
All at once the pale blue forests erupted into an awoken yellow, and the surface of the moon burned with a warm glow, the fire gently licking everything it touched. The titans began to circle, joining together as their circle expanded.
“Run,” muttered Rook, but he did not need to say it again. The three hurried down the stairs into the safehouse, as they heard gliding sounds around the building, like knives slicing through air. Only when Rook and Ibis were safe did they realise that Crow was not with them.
Crow was a veteran of the Pacific Wars. He had fought against the Japanese and the Indochinese, and he had not come so far to surrender to a threat that refused to face him properly. He struggled and pushed, forcing himself from the clutches of tenebrous black folds. He stared the hunter down for a moment. What was that on its head? It looked like-
Black folds wrapped around his head as a dark talon, sharper than a razor’s edge, cut it off. No-one heard Crow scream.
“Crow? Crow? Are you there?” Ibis panicked.
Why them? Why now? Were they the same… things… that had wiped out the LUNA missions? Rook’s head spun with questions. He thought and thought and thought. The LUNA missions lasted far longer, with the first death purportedly due to an accident. But after that… they became more and more frequent. One accident led to one disappearance, only half a year later. The Tsarists had covered it up well, but Rook was sure, as were many in the upper echelons of the Hegemony, that the rest of the LUNA cosmonauts had suffered the same fate. And now, scarcely a month into their mission, the disappearances were becoming devastating.
“Rook?” asked Ibis, in quiet, frozen, panic, fear, and despondence. “Crow’s not coming back, is he?”
Rook did not respond. The hunters were getting smarter. But how, it was almost like with every kill, they-
Ibis’ muffled scream rang across the room, and Rook saw the hunter for what it truly was.
It was almost avian, in a sense. Wings of bone and tanned human skin. Black folds of human hairs, dipped in oil. Armour of a collection of spacesuit parts, including those of the old LUNA missions. And its head… its head… god save us all…
Its head was a bulging mess of human brains, seeming as though they had been forcefully stuffed inside its head. Rook stood there, helpless and powerless, as the hunter sliced Ibis’ head cleanly off her shoulders, before extending its talons into her neck hole, accompanied by horrific sounds of flesh tearing and internal organs squelching. And then, as if it were an Aztec holding a sacrificial heart, it took out a large chunk of Ibis’ brain, gazing upon it with dark, beady eyes, before making an incision in its head and shoving the pink mass in.
Rook felt uncontrolled, unadulterated, and unfiltered terror. It was here. The answers to all his questions. The hunter had come for him as it had the others. It was getting smarter. It was learning. And he was next.
“Sterling to crew. Another… of the local wildlife… is coming.”
Rook bolted for the exit, dodging razor-sharp talons and weaving through black folds trying to strangle him. This… creature… was an ambush hunter, but Rook knew it was there. Rook knew how to be prepared for it. And maybe, maybe, there was the slightest chance he would live, he would see his wife again, he would be able to hug her and tell her he was sorry for ever embarking on th-
A bone shaft pierced Rook through his chest. No-one remained to hear his dying screams.
“Sterling to… Rook… Rook… not coming back, is he? The… local wildlife… is coming. Watch yourselves.”
The moon continued burning with curiosity, will, and desire.