Chris Othic Micro Fiction!

Look, a non-Mrs. Gruber related post! Chris Othic micro fiction! Enjoy and Happy Halloween!

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It won’t be long now.

That’s what I thought to myself as I felt the low, loud rumble of the engines and the steady pull on my body as I was forced back into my seat. The shuttle was just pushing off, and my body tingled with anticipation knowing that in less than three minutes we would hit the upper atmosphere, the shuttle would start to roll and my destiny would begin.

I can't wait.

My co-pilot, Phillips, and the flight scientist, Adams, were sitting quietly now, no doubt thinking their own big thoughts. Like me, this was their first time in space. Unlike me, they would be a mere footnote in history. Only I knew what was about to happen in less than two minutes from now.

Getting closer now.

It was close quarters for the three of us, and I could tell by the faint sticky smell that Phillips was sweating inside his flight suit. Adams was too, but all I could smell of her was salt and citrus tinged with vodka, which was dampening her skin, a mix of the preflight drinks she had along with that damn perfume she always wore. Having a heightened sense of smell wasn’t something I enjoyed, but it would no longer be an issue for me in less than forty-five seconds.

Almost there.

As the sky starting turning from bright to light blue, then creeping into black, I could tell the shuttle was getting close to the edge of space. In just a few seconds it would start its gentle roll to the side, right on schedule. My palms were sweating and I could feel that old familiar itch up around my left shoulder, that itch that could only be scratched around the edges, that was never fully satisfied, on that old wound that had never fully healed.

The moment you’ve been waited for.

As the shuttle peeled over onto its side, the full, unobstructed moon appeared through the portal against the black backdrop of space. My eyes took it its full luminescent glow and my blood surged, pushing against the walls of every vein and vessel, then I felt that familiar blinding pain shoot through my entire body. It was one of the fastest transformations I had ever had. Phillips and Adams barely had time to scream before I shredded the straps on my jump seat. In one wet blur I ripped Phillips’ head off in a jagged line at the shoulders, then turned on Adams, biting down hard on her windpipe, reveling in the sweet taste of her warm, syrupy blood while trying to ignore the metallic, acrid odor of her cheap perfume.

To the moon.

That was about the last human thought I had. The program I snuck into the onboard navigation system should be kicking in at this point, plotting out the coordinates I had entered, overriding the commands from the control center, and taking us off of our planned orbit and straight toward the moon. For the next two days I would feast inside my own feral heaven, the animal inside me growing more frenzied as I got closer to my destiny, closer to my greatest desire, closer to the moon, the moon the moon themoonMoonMOONMOONMOONMOONMOON.