The Unraveling

In the vast expanse of the cosmos, Captain Geoff Trompe, the renowned 'First Man of Jupiter,' stands as a beacon of human achievement. But as the stars beckon and the allure of retirement from his captain position looms, a shadow falls upon his farewell. 

When a crew member's life is snuffed out on the eve of his big promotion, the universe's greatest captain finds himself ensnared in a web of intrigue and paranoia. 

Is it the machinations of his arch-nemesis, Commander Tyler, or is there a more sinister force at play? As the boundaries of reality blur, Captain Trompe must confront not just external adversaries, but the very fabric of his own mind.

You’re invited you to journey with Captain Trompe as he steps through the threshold, and into the Doorway to Darkness.

For more horror, visit caseyburrin.com.

Transcript

Beyond the shimmering veil of the cosmos, where stars whisper tales of glory and despair, stands Captain Geoff Trompe, the unparalleled 'First Man of Jupiter'. 

His legacy, etched in the annals of space exploration, promised him a serene promotion on Earth's shores. But as destiny would have it, the universe had one more enigma for him.

On the precipice of his promotion gala, with the world's eyes upon him, a crew member's life is extinguished, casting a shadow of suspicion and dread. 

Is this the handiwork of his relentless arch-nemesis, Commander Tyler, or does a deeper, more insidious force pull the strings? 

As the lines between reality and illusion fray, Captain Trompe is thrust into a maelstrom of doubt, not just of those around him, but of his very sanity. 

Brace yourselves for a voyage like no other, as Captain Trompe navigates the treacherous corridors of the mind, and steps into... the Doorway to Darkness.

Captain Geoff Trompe leaned over the dead body of one of his youngest charges on the space vessel, Dionysus, that he had commanded for the last five years. 

The 40-year-old captain looked at the ship’s doctor, Dr. Lyssa, who attended to this newly graduated cadet that Captain Trompe barely knew. 

The famed starship Dionysus carried more than 500 souls encased in the interlocking metal alloy of the solar system’s most famous starship, whose notoriety was eclipsed only by its renowned captain. 

Now, the great ship - in orbit around the solar system’s second-largest planet, Saturn - had just lost one of its most junior members. 

In a medical module in the Dionysus’ Health Hub, Captain Trompe stood next to Dr. Lyssa, who had beckoned him there. 

Captain Trompe rubbed his beard back and forth as he stared at the young man who had once held such promise. 

All he’d wanted was a peaceful day, but now he was tasked with determining what killed this young man. 

“Please tell me he’s not dead,” Captain Trompe said. “Is he dead?

 “Quite,” said Dr. Lyssa, leaning over the young man's body, who appeared a model of good health. “He fell into a coma right before he died today.

 “But how?” Captain Trompe said. “How could this be?

 “It be,” Dr. Lyssa said. “I must run more tests, but this one will be tough to crack. He’s perfectly healthy.”

 “Perfectly healthy?” Captain Trompe said.

“Other than being dead,” Dr. Lyssa said.

“How can you be so…well, I shouldn’t say,” Captain Trompe said

 “So cold?” Dr. Lyssa said. “I’m a realist, captain. We all knew the risks when we stepped onto a 100-metric-ton starship. But more than you could know, I mourn for this young man. Well, boy, really, just 22.”

 “Just 22,” Captain Trompe said. ”He’s a baby.” 

“Out in the fire and ice of space, we all understood how it could end,” Dr. Lyssa said. “But we all were lucky to have a seasoned captain we all love and trust.”

 “Oh please, doctor,” Captain Trompe said. “Obviously, I’ve failed him.”

 “Spoken like a true leader,” Dr. Lyssa said. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

 “Appreciate that, doctor,” Captain Trompe said. “Can you determine if he died of a heart attack?”

“No evidence of it,” Dr. Lyssa said.

 “An aneurism?” Captain Trompe said. 

“Again, no reason to believe it,” Dr. Lyssa said. 

 “We must find out what happened to him. Do everything you can,” Captain Trompe said. “A captain’s saddest duty is to inform the family of the deceased. I loathe it. Simply loathe it.” 

“There is something odd about this young man,” Dr. Lyssa said. “I don’t want to tell you because it might upset you.” 

“I’ve lost a valued crew member,” Captain Trompe said. “I’m already upset.” 

“More upset,” Dr. Lyssa said. “This would make you.”

“I couldn’t be more upset,” Captain Trompe said. “I assure you.”

“You could, actually,” Dr. Lyssa said. 

“Honestly, doctor, you’re making me more upset by not telling me,” Captain Trompe said.

“Before he fell into a coma and died, this young man was hearing a voice calling him, according to his crewmates,” Dr. Lyssa said. “A woman’s voice.”

“Please tell me you’re not telling me what I think you’re telling me,” Captain Trompe said. 

“We have to entertain the possibility that she is involved,” Dr. Lyssa said. “She possesses certain mind control abilities that no one quite understands.”  

“Please don’t say her name,” Captain Trompe said. 

“Yes, I’m talking about the solar system’s most feared privateer,” Dr. Lyssa said.  “A name that shall not be uttered. I knew you’d be upset. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re the only one in the solar system who has had the strength to stand up to her, saving us all from that dreaded sea mistress of the stars.” 

Captain Trompe's jaw clenched at the mere thought of Commander Tyler, a rouge space buccaneer who commandeered her flagship, The Theodon, and a fleet of marauders. 

Captain Trompe took a step away from the table and turned his back on Dr. Lyssa. He felt a mix of unease and nausea at the prospect of crossing swords again with Commander Tyler, especially on the day he was attending a press conference about his promotion to Rear Admiral. 

“Let’s keep this to ourselves for now,” he said. “No need to upset the crew just yet. We need to figure out how he died.

 “I’m on it,” Dr. Lyssa said. “You have a press conference, don’t you? Your promotion. Remember?”

Captain Trompe glanced down at his wrist chronometer, noting the time – 10:10 a.m., which put him 10 minutes late for his own press conference.  

After apologizing to the roughly 150 people that he’d kept waiting in the Starboard Summit Room, Captain Trompe slumped down in his chair as he sat on stage. He waited for the onslaught of reporters’ questions to begin after a short introduction. 

They’d all come to see him off as he retired from captain’s post to begin the new chapter of his career on Earth as a Rear Admiral – a dream position for most captains. 

Captain Trompe's foot tapped against his chair, a clear indication that he didn’t want to be there. He hoped this press conference would be as painless as he could make it without any dramatics. If no one mentioned Commander Tyler’s name, he’d count this press conference as a success. 

Captain Trompe shifted in his chair as the man who would replace him, Captain Darrow, made the introduction.

 “Captain Trompe, better known as the First Man of Jupiter, is moving on to a well-deserved promotion to Rear Admiral back on Earth, a plum assignment if there ever was one,” Captain Darrow said. 

A wave of nervous laughter swept across the assembly of journalists as some of the reporters glanced at one another. 

“No other human being has done more to expand our knowledge of the solar system and thus our universe than Captain Trompe here,” Captain Darrow said.  

Captain Trompe pursed his lips, attempting to smile at the crowd in this most awkward moment for him. 

“Not only was he integral in the colonization of Mars, currently with a population of 5 million and growing more every day, but he’s personally mapped out the major moons of Jupiter,” Captain Darrow said. “So, it’s fitting that his last mission on the Dionysus is the exploration of the Saturn moons, Mimas and Tethys, and, of course, the jewel in the crown, Enceladus, with its remarkable ice geyser volcanos. It will be his last survey before he turns the reins of the Dionysus over to me. Without further adieu, please welcome the greatest captain who has ever lived!”  

The reporters exploded in applause that lasted more than 30 seconds. Captain Trompe nodded as the cheers continued. 

“I open the floor for questions,” Captain Trompe said as he stood at the podium.

 “How do you feel about your promotion and moving back to Earth?” a reporter asked. “

 “The only constant is change,” Captain Trompe said. “Next question.”

 “The average age of a space captain retirement is 36 due to the stress of the job,” another reporter said. “But you’re one of the oldest captains to retire at 40. Most people never last that long out here. It’s tough in space, but you’ve passed on promotion four times, so why is this one going to stick?”

 “What do they say? Four times is the charm?” he said. “All things come to an end. I’m grateful for my 20-year career out in space. Looking forward to much-needed rest.”  

“Captain Trompe, can you tell us about your last mission?” a reporter asked. 

“We’re surveying the Saturn moons. I’m particularly interested in the moon Enceladus, a little ice world - just 500 kilometers across - that spews ice, water, and dust on a regular basis through a series of water volcanos. We’ve mapped the surface and surveyed its biggest cryovolcano, affectionately called the Herschel Geyser, which is an ice volcano, after its founder, William Herschel.”

Captain Trompe uncrossed his arms for the first time since entering the press conference. A hint of a smile crossed his face as the mood of the room changed. 

Maybe this press conference wouldn’t be so bad after all. No one seemed interested in mentioning his one professional failure – his inability to capture Commander Tyler and her fleet of hapless raiders, who were the scourge of the outer gas planets. 

But then he heard it. Almost imperceptibly, he detected the sound of that menacing voice of Commander Tyler:

“Geoff, it’s Tyler. Can you hear me?”

Upon hearing the voice, Captain Trompe felt his hands shake under the podium, which soon turned into clenched fists.

Captain Trompe scanned the room for the perpetrator who’d just spoken. 
 
 He thought one of the reporters believed it’d be provocative to mimic Commander Tyler’s voice to get a rise out of him. 

“Sir?” Captain Darrow said. “Captain?” 

“Never in all my travels have I come across a more nakedly hollow creature who preys on the vulnerabilities of others as I have with Commander Tyler,” Captain Trompe said, shaking his fist to the crowd. “She fills the innocent with wicked thoughts and has robbed so many of their agency and wellbeing. She promised heaven and delivered hell.”

 “Um, captain,” Captain Darrow said.

 “If you think for a second that I’m going to rest,” Captain Trompe said before slamming his fist into the podium. “I tell you. I’ve toyed with forgoing retirement this time around.”

 The crowd gasped as reporters took note of what might be the story of the year. Captain Darrow grabbed Captain Trompe by the elbow, trying to lead him away from the front of the stage. 

Captain Trompe scanned the reporters again, who could only stare back. He straightened himself up and wiped the sweat away from his forehead before continuing. 

“That’s all the time we have for today’s conference,” Captain Darrow said before whisking Captain Trompe off stage. 

“Sir, what is wrong?” Captain Darrow said once they were out of earshot of the reporters. “Why did you bring up Commander Tyler? I thought you wanted to avoid talking about her today. I told the press corp those types of questions were off-limits.”

“Whoever pretended to be Commander Tyler by throwing her voice obviously didn’t listen to you,” Captain Trompe said. 

“Who did what?” Captain Darrow said.

“I don’t know which one of them did that,” Captain Trompe said. 

“Did what?” Captain Darrow said.

“Darrow, don’t toy with me,” Captain Trompe said. “You’re not deaf. You heard it, too.”

“Sir, I truly don’t know what you’re talking about?” Captain Darrow said.

“The voice – the mimicked voice of Commander Tyler!” Captain Trompe said. “You heard it! Everyone heard it!”

Captain Trompe looked over Captain Darrow’s face, searching for any moment of understanding about what he’d just said. But Captain Darrow looked back at him without a hint of recognition regarding what he was talking about. 

“You really didn’t hear anything?” Captain Trompe said. 

“No one did, sir,” Captain Darrow said. “We all thought you brought it up on your own. What did you hear?”

Captain Trompe looked away, searching for what to say next. If a reporter never said it, who did? Perhaps he misheard a reporter. But no, he knew the unmistakable voice of that star bandit that continued to slip through his fingers. 

Could he have made it all up in his mind, Captain Trompe wondered. He knew at that moment he needed to talk to Dr. Lyssa about what had just happened. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I didn’t hear anything,” Captain Trompe said. “Forget I said that.”

Captain Trompe left Starboard Summit Room in disgrace as he heard the whispers of journalists perplexed by what they’d just witnessed. 

Captain Trompe bolted to his private quarters, where he planned to figure out what to do next after that disaster of a press conference. 

Commander Tyler’s voice – he’d heard it at the conference. Didn’t he? 

He pressed up against the cold aluminum wall, almost falling over, before leaning on the desk for support. Sweat poured down from his sideburns into the crook of his neck folds. 

He took the palms of his hands and smashed them over his eyes and around his damp forehead. 

He made it to his captain’s workstation, a console with a holographic interface that projected a three-dimensional array of the ship’s status, navigational charts and communications.

He sat in his captain’s chair and wiped more sweat from his forehead, trying to remove the shame of the press conference. 

“Dionysus,” Captain Trompe said, referring to the ship’s computer. “Where is Dr. Lyssa?

“Dr. Lyssa is in surgery and will not be available for 30 minutes, according to her schedule,” Dionysus said. 

Captain Trompe sat back in his chair, rubbing his beard and staring at the console, contemplating his next move. If he couldn’t talk to Dr. Lyssa, what could he do?

“What are the whereabouts of Commander Tyler?” Captain Trompe said.

 “Commander Tyler’s whereabouts are unknown,” Dionysus reported. “She was last seen on the far side of Neptune heading to the Oort Cloud in her ship, The Theodon.”

 He leaned back in his swivel chair, spinning around while staring at the ceiling.

 “Open the captain’s log,” he said to Dionysus. “I need to make a report.” 

 “Captain’s log is unavailable,” Dionysus said.  

 “What! Why?” Captain Trompe said. “Make it available!”

 “Captain’s log is unavailable,” Dionysus said.

 “What’s the cause? Open it now!” Captain Trompe said. “I am in no mood for this. Call a technician to fix my computer.”

 “Order confirmed,” Dionysus said. “Technicians are scheduled to repair your computer console.”

Captain Trompe eased back in his captain’s chair. He craned his neck with his gaze toward the ceiling's cold expanse as if it were a canvas of mysteries. 

Did he hear Commander Tyler’s voice threading through the silence? He could almost swear it was her voice, but doubts lingered. He felt a moment of uneasiness at a darker notion. Perhaps a silent disease was working its way through the ship that had claimed the life of the young ensign. And now it had him in his grasp. 

“Dionysus, what diseases or disorders involve a person hearing voices right before falling into a coma and dying?” Captain Trompe said. 

“The top three possible causes are schizophrenia, delirium, and encephalitis,” Dionysus said. 

“Could Commander Tyler be responsible for a person hearing voices right before falling into a coma and dying?” Captain Trompe said 

“Commander Tyler is known to be a student of the dark arts, supernatural practices often associated with malevolent intention that can include witchcraft, sorcery, and necromancy,” Dionysus said. “While these practices have been debunked through modern science, she is known to employ deceptive practices to hide bioweapons that she attributes to black magic as a ruse.”

“Continue,” Captain Trompe said.

“She may be using a mind control tactic, attributing it to an ancient, mythical practice called The Withering,” Dionysus said. “Most notable in early 21st Century folklore, the Withering places its victims into comas before dying. Auditory hallucinations are also associated with this practice.”

Captain Trompe straightened in his seat with his eyes boring into the computer console with an intensity that seemed almost capable of scorching the metal. 

Could it be that Commander Tyler was weaving this web, manipulating the very threads of reality to ensnare him and his crew in her strategic grasp?

Dionysus continued: “In the Withering, victims can’t discern the real world for a fantasy world as they lay in a coma, usually, but not always, wasting away until death.”

Captain Trompe felt the truth remained shrouded in shadow, yet he felt the weight pressing on him. He was set on a path not of his own choosing now, and he knew he must unravel this mystery. 

“That cold-blooded space sorceress!” Captain Trompe said. “Just as I’m leaving, she sucks me back in! Where is Dr. Lyssa? I must talk to her.”

Captain Trompe slammed his hand down on the computer console, slightly cracking his wrist chronometer 

Next to the main medical room, Captain Trompe whisked Dr. Lyssa into a secluded section to talk in private about what he’d learned about The Withering and Commander Tyler. 

“Captain, did something happen?” Dr. Lyssa said. “What is this about?”

“I believe I had a hallucination, and I think Commander Tyler is responsible,” Captain Trompe said. 

“Oh no, not her,” Dr. Lyssa said. “Tell me quickly what happened?”

“It was during the press conference,” Captain Trompe said. “I heard Commander Tyler’s voice just as clearly as I’m hearing your voice now,” Captain Trompe said. “I thought one of the reporters was pulling a stunt on me, and I went off on the entire group, but Captain Darrow informed me that no one heard it but me. I think what has happened to our young, deceased crewmember is happening to me.”

“Yes, Captain, you’re ability to put two and two together is impeccable,” Dr. Lyssa said. “We must neutralize this threat, especially if Commander Tyler is involved.”

“Exactly, so I asked Dionysus,” Captain Trompe said.

“That's a brilliant move, captain,” Dr. Lyssa said. “Bravo.”

“I fed it my symptoms and the circumstances around it,” Captain Trompe said. “It talked about a condition called the Withering.” 

Dr. Lyssa recoiled as she took two steps away from Captain Trompe. Her hand covered her mouth, fingers splayed over her lips while her eyes widened with the dawning of an all-encompassing knowledge. 

“What, do you know of this mind control tactic?” Captain Trompe said. “Why are you looking at me that way? You look ill.”

“There is no such thing as the Withering!” Dr. Lyssa snapped. “Why do you go off on wild goose chases without me! 

“Dr. Lyssa, what is going on?” Captain Trompe said. “Why are you so angry? What do you know about it?”  

“Don’t be a fool for old 21st Century black magic folklore,” Dr. Lyssa said. “First of all, you’re in perfect health. Second of all, we haven’t heard from Commander Tyler in months, and some are rumored to believe her ship exploded, taking her with it. 

“Please calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Captain Trompe said. “It’s just a theory, but it’s something we need to consider.”

“You're under a lot of stress, so maybe you had an auditory hallucination,” Dr. Lyssa said. “Happens to people like you who have the weight of the world on their shoulders. And who’s to say it wasn’t one of the reporters? Just because Darrow didn’t hear it doesn’t mean others didn’t. Captain, we need to focus on reality, not silly ideas a computer put in your head about long-forgotten dark arts”

“So you don’t think there’s any merit to Commander Tyler’s mind-control tactics through The Withering?” Captain Trompe said. 

“None whatsoever,” Dr. Lyssa said. “We’ve worked together all these years. Don’t you trust me?”

A storm of confusion swirled within Captain Trompe because Dr. Lyssa’s response to his revelation was met with such revulsion. Yet, through countless trials and tribulations, she remained his steadfast compass. If she deemed the Withering a foolish notion, then it must be he was on the wrong track. 

“I trust you implicitly,” Captain Trompe said. “You’re right. I have been under stress.”

Captain Trompe decided to drop this line of thinking and look for another explanation. 

As he walked out of the room, he knocked over a tray of medical tools that crashed to the floor.

After talking to Dr. Lyssa, Captain Trompe headed to his private office, just off the ship’s bridge, to document the latest events in his captain’s log.

 “Dionysus! Bring up the Captain's log,” Captain Trompe said. “This will only take two minutes. What’s the last date of entry?”

 “The last Captain's Log was at 1:45 p.m. March 15. 

He stared at the computer console with his eyes knitted together in a deep furrow. He licked his lips that had gone dry and felt cracks as his tongue rolled over them. Captain Trompe hunched over, glancing from side to side as his mind raced.

 “How is that possible?” Captain Trompe whispered. “I’ve not recorded a new log in two months? I don’t remember it being that long ago.” 

Captain Trompe straightened himself and tugged at his shirt sleeves. 

“Dionysus, read me back my last entry,” Captain Trompe said.

“The captain’s log is not available,” Dionysus said. 

“Not even the last entry?” Captain Trompe said.

“Correct, the captain’s logs can’t be played back, and it can’t be used in new recordings. The repair technicians have been notified.”

 “Redouble your efforts,” Captain Trompe said. “I must make an entry in my captain’s log. Also, your log record is wrong. I know I’ve made entries sooner than that. I know I have. It’s not possible that I haven’t.”

 Captain Trompe felt dizzy, preventing him from speaking. 

 Then he heard Commander Tyler’s voice again: “Geoff, follow me.”

 Captain Trompe stood up but crumbled to the ground, where he laid unconscious.

 Captain Trompe woke up in his captain’s quarters, lying on the floor where he had fallen. 

 He stumbled out of his office and into the Dionysus Command Center, finding Dr. Lyssa leaning over what looked like a dead body. The Command Center, usually a hive of activity, was eerily silent, with the only sounds of pinging and blipping of the equipment that had been abandoned. 

Captain Trompe's heart hammered in a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Before him, the crew appeared as if they’d been discarded like useless marionettes by an indifferent puppeteer. 

Some were slumped over their chairs with their heads lolling onto control panels while others lay crumpled on the floor unconscious. 

A cold shiver ran down Captain Trompe’s spine as he surveyed his crew. His hands clenched into fists at his side with his knuckles whitening. His eyes darted from one crew member to another, hoping to see a sign of life. 

Whatever had transpired, Captain Trompe determined to find out what had happened to his crew.

“Oh, thank God you're alive!” Dr. Lyssa said. 

“My crew!” Captain Trompe said. “Are they all dead?”

“All in a coma,” Dr. Lyssa said. “Every single last one of them except you and me.” 

 “The work of Commander Tyler, no doubt,” Captain Trompe said. “I knew it!”

On the Dionysus’ Main Observation Screen, Commander Tyler’s enemy ship, The Theodon, came into view as it hovered in orbit around Saturn. It formed a stark silhouette against the tapestry of cosmic dust and starlight. 

Far smaller than the Dionysus, Theodon’s hull was a patchwork of dark metals and a pulsating energy field that emitted a crimson light. 

“You did this to my crew!” Captain Trompe yelled at the ship on screen.

“What does she want?” Dr. Lyssa said. “That monster!”

“What does she always want!” Captain Trompe said. “You think this is over. It’s not even begun! She’s using her mind control device to knock out the crew but left you and me conscious so she could mentally toy and torture us. But that was a big mistake.”

Captain Trompe manned the image console, removing Commander Tyler’s ship, The Theodon, from the screen as it turned blank. 

“What are you going to do?” Dr. Lyssa said.  

“Dionysus, how far are we away from Enceladus?” Captain Trompe asked the ship’s computer. 

“50,000 miles,” Dionysus said. 

“What are you up to?” Dr. Lyssa said. “Please tell me.”

“I’ve command of the ship in a rudimentary way,” Captain Trompe said. “I can’t send us into high speed. Commander Tyler knows that, but what she’s not counting on is a trap. “

“A trap?” Dr. Lyssa said. 

“A ruse I’m about to spring on her over our tiny icy moon, Enceladus,” Captain Trompe said. 

“I don’t understand,” Dr. Lyssa said. “What are you doing?”

“The Hershel Volcano that spews ice vapor like clockwork, and if I’m right, we’re just about due for another ice shower,” Captain Trompe said. “You’ll see. If she’s arrogant enough to follow me, believing that I’m just on the run.” 

“Do you think she’d really fall into your trap?” Dr. Lyssa said. 

The pair gazed at the console. The blue dot, indicating the Dionysus, headed toward the tiny moon, Enceladus, but the Theodon, denoted by a red dot on the screen, stayed put. 

“She’s not following,” Dr. Lyssa said.  

“She has to,” Captain Trompe said. “She can’t warp our minds otherwise. She must be in range.” 

“Look!” Dr. Lyssa said, pointing to the red dot on the console. “She’s pursuing us.”

“Of course, her arrogance always gets the better of her,” Captain Trompe said. “She knows she shouldn’t pursue me, but she can’t believe I’m smart enough to outsmart her, but I’ve done that every time. You’d think she’d learn by now. It’s a testimony to her arrogance.” 

Captain Trompe maneuvered the Dionysus over the Herschel Geyser. 

“Now what?” Dr. Lyssa said. 

Just then, Enceledus’ Herschel Ice Volcano spewed a mixture of ice and water up toward both ships in orbit around the tiny moon. 

The Dionysus, a ship ten times larger than Commander Tyler’s ship, held its position. But the ice and dust knocked the other spaceship out of Saturn’s orbit and into the darkness of space. 

“You did it!” Dr. Lyssa said. “You saved us!”

Just then, the crew began regaining consciousness, and once again, the Dionysus Command Center began stirring with life. One by one, the crew members started to emerge from the shadowy grip of unconsciousness. 

“Once more, you’ve pulled us from the jaws of calamity!” Dr. Lyssa said. “What an epic end to an illustrious career as a captain just as you’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Captain Trompe said. “I think not!”

“Captain! You have to leave. You deserve your promotion to Rear Admiral,” Dr. Lyssa said. “You’ve done so much, and now you should take your leave.”

“How can I leave outer space now?” Captain Trompe said. “The spaceways aren’t safe with Commander Tyler around. I can’t leave until I get rid of her once and for all.” 

When Captain Trompe turned away from Dr. Lyssa, he noticed a ship console that delineated the extensive damage to the ship’s hull marred by the Enceladus’ ice volcano’s barrage of razor-sharp ice shards that would take weeks to fix.

After more of the crew awakened, Captain Trompe relinquished their care into the capable hands of Dr. Lyssa. 

He retired to his private office to review his day, which had unfurled like a tapestry of the unexpected, with each thread more chaotic than the last. 

“Dionysus, has the Captain's log been fixed yet?” Captain Trompe said. 

“Affirmative, the captain's log is fixed and waiting for your further direction,” Dionysus said. 

“Wonderful!” Captain Trompe said. “Please repeat the last entry so I know where to begin.”

Dionysus cued up Captain Trompe’s last known entry, and this is what he heard: 

“Geoff, time is of the essence, so I'll be direct. I am Detective Tyler, a paranormal investigator and a staunch defender of the living from the malevolent whispers of the dead. 

Five weeks ago, your very essence was ensnared by the malevolent demon called Lyssa. It’s imprisoned you in a dream realm known as The Withering.

I've been attempting to bridge the chasm between us by calling out to you, but Lyssa's cunning has kept me away. My last option was to embed this message within your captain's log, hoping against hope that you'd find it. 

The reality you perceive - it's an illusion. Your physical form is in a dire state, languishing in a hospital, your heart faltering with every passing second. Yet, your consciousness? It's aboard this illusionary spaceship.

 But it’s not real. Nothing you see is real, Geoff. It’s all a fantasy created by Lyssa to keep you there until your body dies in the real world. 

You may have experienced hints of reality as your brain struggles to unravel you from this never-ending dream. Believe those clues, Geoff. Your mind is fighting Lyssa to survive.

You must rally your strength and awaken. Time is running out, and if you don't act now, the consequences will be irreversible. Geoff, you must believe me before it’s too late.