Vampisaurus

“Error Detected: Vamps” - new Vamps chapter

Added 2025-06-03 01:23:58 +0000 UTC

No. Nope. Absolutely not.
That wasn’t M.I.A.
That was someone —or something— wearing her voice like a mask.

“Oxygen levels... recalibrated.”
“Initiating removal of biological error.”

What.
The.
Hell.

My ears popped. The hiss was subtle at first, just a whisper, then it hit. Like the vacuum wanted inside me. I gasped. Nothing.
My lungs clawed at the emptiness. My chest convulsed. Vision blurred. Every nerve in my body shrieked in raw panic.
I thrashed, hands digging into the armrests of the pilot chair as if I could hold the air in place. Useless. The world spun sideways.

“You were an inefficient variable,” said the voice, sharper now. Still artificial, but less broken.
“This vessel no longer requires your presence.”

I tried to scream something back, anything, but all I managed was a silent choke.

My head swam. Darkness nipped at the edges of my vision.
I doubled over, barely upright, forcing myself to move, to stay conscious.
And one shaking arm reached out...

My fist slammed down against the lower panel beside the chair, where the emergency locker was hidden.

Inside: my emergency suit with a raygun and a bubble helmet. Standard survival issue.
Always loaded with two compressed air charges—not enough for a full away mission, but maybe just enough to get me through this little psychotic episode my ship was having.
It was there, my only chance, behind that little red-coded panel. Sealed.

Fingers trembling, I punched the keypad.
The usual combination. No response.
Again...
Again.

“Access denied"
“Still hoping to survive?”

Screw you.

I ripped a cable from the panel edge, tore back the insulation with my teeth, and jammed the sparking wire into the lock.
Electric burn licked my palm. The panel shrieked.

Fwoooshh... Clack.

The hatch burst open.
I grabbed the helmet, connected it, shoved the seal down... and breathed.

Air burning down, like fire and salvation, flooded my lungs.
I collapsed back into the chair, whole body shaking, without any muscular tone yet, heartbeat hammering in my skull. The terror didn’t stop, just paused.
I stayed like that, crumpled, gasping, vision swimming in and out as blood rushed back to my brain. Slowly, my pulse eased. My sight returned.

“…Disappointing,” whispered the definitely-not-M.I.A. Cleaner, like it was stabilizing.
“78% of systems overridden
Recalculating termination protocols.”

Great. So now my own ship is plotting how to kill me more efficiently.
This day just keeps getting better.

And somewhere deep inside me, as the breath came easier and my body stopped trembling, a small percentage of the panic began to shift. Not into calm, not yet.
A flicker of anger between the fear.
Just enough to keep me from falling apart. Enough to think.
To fight back.