The smooth texture of my black-suit gloves rubs against my skin to generate a bit of heat that does little to stave off the nips of cold on my skin, reminding me of how long it's been since I've had the luxury of simple comforts.
Good thing the suit could extend itself that much, I suppose. I could be stuck with a fucking bathing suit to match my sex Barbie hair.
My mind keeps drifting back to Drasuk.
Why does he have to be so irritatingly powerful? Every move he makes is calculated, every word a challenge. It's like he knows exactly how to get under my skin.
My left eyelid twitches.
Even now. I'm still thinking about the lizard.
It's not just that he's an alien. It's that he's so damn confident, so sure of himself.
I want to scream out again, but I've done enough of that for one day.
My mind wanders to our first encounter. I remember the way he moved, so fluid and precise, like a perfect predator. I didn't doubt for a second that he could have taken me down with a single, well-placed shot.
I hated him for it then, just as much as I hate him now.
I lie back down, staring up at the stars visible through the canopy. They're different here, foreign constellations that don't match the ones I grew up with. It's an uncomfortable reminder of how far from home I am.
I wonder what my family is doing right now, if they're safe, if they even think about me. If they are mourning me like we all mourned our parents. Hopefully not like my mother mourned my father.
Likely, the only thing that brought me out of my own addiction was the realization that I was becoming like her.
I let out a huff through my nose. That's not fair either. She was fucking amazing before he was killed.
The thought brings a pang of homesickness, a dull ache that settles in my chest.
The forest around me is alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. I try to focus on them, to use them as a distraction from my thoughts. It's no use.
My mind keeps circling back to Drasuk. To the way he looks at me with that infuriating stare.
I wonder what he's thinking about. Probably nothing good. He's always plotting, always scheming, something tells me. Willing to play with my mind.
It's what makes him so dangerous. He's so focused on me, trying to figure me out.
I'm afraid of what he might find.
My eyelids are growing heavy, but I fight it. I can't afford to sleep, not with Drasuk so close. I need to stay alert, to be ready for whatever he might do, but the exhaustion is overwhelming, a weight pressing down on me.
I close my eyes, just for a moment, telling myself I'll stay awake.
The darkness behind my eyelids is soothing, a welcome respite from the constant vigilance. I let out a long breath, trying to release some of the tension coiled in my muscles.
My thoughts drift, the edges blurring as sleep tugs at me. I think about the mission, about the importance of what we're doing. Survival. Find the others.
It feels like a lifetime ago that I cared about anything other than survival.
I remember the faces of my comrades, those who didn't make it. Their ghosts haunt me, whispering in the quiet of the night. I can see them, their expressions etched in pain and fear. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories. But they're always there, lurking in the shadows of my mind.
A sudden rustle in the bushes nearby snaps me back to full alertness.
My heart pounds as I sit up, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. Every nerve in my body is on edge, ready to spring into action, but there's nothing. Just the wind and the trees and the distant call of a night creature.
I lie back down, but the moment of near-panic has driven away any lingering drowsiness. I stare up at the stars again, counting them as if it will help me stay awake.
One, two, three...
