Catharsis of Cthulhu
You were not programmed to be cruel and make jokes at the expense of others, but the irony of the situation presented to you upon entering the Mess Hall is not lost upon you. Doctor Scrofa is not a small woman and the image of her alternately stuffing her face with freeze dried hot dogs and the intestines of another broken crew member seems like a zombific image of gluttony.
You approach her snarling person without fear.
"Doctor Scrofa, you may be ill. Please do not resist and I will not hurt you," you warn her as you continue to mount your approach.
Scrofa's snort is almost a boar-like screech. "YOU! I'll have nothing to do with you! All tin and oil, you can't taste any better than chewing on a BMW. Get away from me!" she screeches, pin wheeling her doughy discolored arms.
"Missus Scrofa, please calm down. If you do not resist me, I will not harm you," you say as soothingly as you can. You are only an arm's length away from her now.
"No! You won't touch me with those unholy lifeless hands!" Scrofa bellows, lurching to her feet without a hint of elegance or control. "Won't touch me!" she yells again, as she charges off in the opposite direction.
You're immediately following her as she crashes through the double doors into the kitchen. Everything not bolted down is knocked down, crushed under foot, or thrown across the room during her charge. A number of large appliances buckle and crack under her monstrous power, and at least one table is knocked from its bolts as she charges past.
Eventually, she charges through a door that your own memory banks quickly identify as broom closet. The sound of her skull connecting with the metal wall at the back of the closet makes a sickening wet sound before her body collapses to the floor.
You slow your pursuit and approach her prone body with easy confidence. You bring your left foot down on her thick ankle as it lays splayed on the floor. The pressure you apply quickly causes a sharp crack to run through the kitchen.
"GYAH!" Scrofa shrieks, but you are unmoved.
"Missus Scrofa, I believe it is in your best interest for you to enlighten me as to your condition and how you came upon it," you threaten.
Scrofa's face cracks into a joker's grin as she looks up at you from her place at your feet.
"Filthy piece of shit, you believe you deserve the honor of gaining knowledge of my masters?" Scrofa snarls, her nose flattened into another ironic mockery of a pig's nose from her recent encounter with the wall.
You remain silent and don't dignify her goad. Your only reply is to add pressure to her obviously broken angle. Her grin crumples at a satisfying rate.
"Your human masters should have perished on their shit stain of a planet decades ago," she snarls suddenly. "They might have failed to extinguish their existence themselves, so my masters intend to do it for them. To snuff their puny existence into so much dust and absorb them into the darkness!" She leans up towards you and you can feel her breath break across your face. "And, do you know what will happen to you once your human masters are dead? You will sit and rust like the forgotten toy you already are."
Her cackle is deafening as she finishes her rant. The cackling laugh soon degrades into horrible racking coughs. Scrofa reaches her hand up to her mouth, you think to cover it. Instead, she begins to push her hand into her mouth. It sinks in with too much ease, followed quickly by her wrist, then half her forearm.
Suddenly, her arm flexes and she's pulling it out. Hot steaming intestines are clenched in her meaty fist. Once the fist emerges, her other hand comes up and begins to pull manically at the string of organ that begins to stream from her mouth.
You stay long enough to watch her body still as her inside-out stomach finally is yanked from her mouth and empties the contents of her half-digested feast into her lap. Then, you can no longer bring yourself to care.
You leave the kitchen and the Mess Hall.
You approach her snarling person without fear.
"Doctor Scrofa, you may be ill. Please do not resist and I will not hurt you," you warn her as you continue to mount your approach.
Scrofa's snort is almost a boar-like screech. "YOU! I'll have nothing to do with you! All tin and oil, you can't taste any better than chewing on a BMW. Get away from me!" she screeches, pin wheeling her doughy discolored arms.
"Missus Scrofa, please calm down. If you do not resist me, I will not harm you," you say as soothingly as you can. You are only an arm's length away from her now.
"No! You won't touch me with those unholy lifeless hands!" Scrofa bellows, lurching to her feet without a hint of elegance or control. "Won't touch me!" she yells again, as she charges off in the opposite direction.
You're immediately following her as she crashes through the double doors into the kitchen. Everything not bolted down is knocked down, crushed under foot, or thrown across the room during her charge. A number of large appliances buckle and crack under her monstrous power, and at least one table is knocked from its bolts as she charges past.
Eventually, she charges through a door that your own memory banks quickly identify as broom closet. The sound of her skull connecting with the metal wall at the back of the closet makes a sickening wet sound before her body collapses to the floor.
You slow your pursuit and approach her prone body with easy confidence. You bring your left foot down on her thick ankle as it lays splayed on the floor. The pressure you apply quickly causes a sharp crack to run through the kitchen.
"GYAH!" Scrofa shrieks, but you are unmoved.
"Missus Scrofa, I believe it is in your best interest for you to enlighten me as to your condition and how you came upon it," you threaten.
Scrofa's face cracks into a joker's grin as she looks up at you from her place at your feet.
"Filthy piece of shit, you believe you deserve the honor of gaining knowledge of my masters?" Scrofa snarls, her nose flattened into another ironic mockery of a pig's nose from her recent encounter with the wall.
You remain silent and don't dignify her goad. Your only reply is to add pressure to her obviously broken angle. Her grin crumples at a satisfying rate.
"Your human masters should have perished on their shit stain of a planet decades ago," she snarls suddenly. "They might have failed to extinguish their existence themselves, so my masters intend to do it for them. To snuff their puny existence into so much dust and absorb them into the darkness!" She leans up towards you and you can feel her breath break across your face. "And, do you know what will happen to you once your human masters are dead? You will sit and rust like the forgotten toy you already are."
Her cackle is deafening as she finishes her rant. The cackling laugh soon degrades into horrible racking coughs. Scrofa reaches her hand up to her mouth, you think to cover it. Instead, she begins to push her hand into her mouth. It sinks in with too much ease, followed quickly by her wrist, then half her forearm.
Suddenly, her arm flexes and she's pulling it out. Hot steaming intestines are clenched in her meaty fist. Once the fist emerges, her other hand comes up and begins to pull manically at the string of organ that begins to stream from her mouth.
You stay long enough to watch her body still as her inside-out stomach finally is yanked from her mouth and empties the contents of her half-digested feast into her lap. Then, you can no longer bring yourself to care.
You leave the kitchen and the Mess Hall.