This is Commander Carmen Wright, Serial Number 3965Q, last surviving crew member of the former
USS Lewis and Clark, now known as Event Horizon.
Today is November 13, 2037, I think.
This will be my last report before I make a final attempt to escape.
If I don't, let this stand as a testimony of what happened out here, what happened to
us.
This sheep, the Event Horizon, it has been touched by evil.
No, that's not the right word.
It has been possessed by depravity, the likes of which human beings cannot comprehend.
Its very structure and materials have come alive with an entity so monstrous that I can
only conclude that Event Horizon encountered the very source of evil in the universe.
Unless I can escape, I don't expect to last much longer.
For that matter, after what I've experienced on this hideous vessel, I'm not sure I want
to, but it is as if the ship wants me to live a little longer, like it's not done with me,
like it has one last torment waiting for me.
I'm all that's left, Lewis and Clark had the crew of nine, and I'm alone.
The ways they died, the way the ship killed them, I dare not attempt to describe.
I have uploaded the fragment from Event Horizon's ship's log, that is all you have to see.
It was all like that, and some of it even worse.
You will see, you will know, and if you are wise, you will never, ever attempt this mission
again.
Do not send another ship to the edge of a black hole, it was foolish and arrogant of
humanity to believe we could so much as begin to understand its power.
Our paltry five senses, devolved as they did to see life in an insignificant speck at the
outer edge of a galaxy, cannot even approach the real.
We should not try.
I can't imagine why the ship is keeping me alive, I can only surmise that Dr. Veer, I
can barely utter that name, is somehow in control.
I have not seen him for three days, but I know he is still alive, I can feel him, just
as I can feel the ship inside me.
There is one final chance for me, I suppose it is freakishly appropriate that the last
member of the rescue crew is the one who knows Event Horizon nearly as well as Dr. Veer himself.
In one critical way, I know her better.
There is a hidden emergency escape pod, I would have used it already, but it only can
be accessed from the gateway, which is where I believe Dr. Veer is.
He and the ship have become two parts of the same horrible force, but I can no longer wait.
So this is Commander Carmen Wright, serial number 3965Q, last surviving crew member of
the former USS Lewis and Clarke, signing off.
If I make it to the lifeboat, I will resume my recording.
Over and out.
Hold it together, Commander, keep yourself together, you are alive, I am alive.
I think that Dr. Veer knows I'm here, God, the ship have mustowed him, I have to get
out of here, I only have a few.
Where was that?
I don't even know what the difference between my imagination and reality anymore.
Is he out there?
Dammit.
Focus, Commander.
It's launch sequence for escape pod, checklist echo, begin spooling.
There is it again, that sound, something about it, like I can hear it inside myself, oh God,
no, no, continuing launch sequence, synchronizing the drivers, confirming coordinates to ship
it, there is again, it's coming closer, God, hurry, countdown sequence, Victor, beginning,
oh, what is this?
What is happening to me?
I can't move, it's inside me, God, it hurts, what is it?
It is spreading in my legs, no, no, it's stretching me beyond, make it stop, make it stop, code
sequence alpha, Foxtrot, three, one, one, two, fuck, fuck, I can't take it anymore,
it's destroying me from inside, I can almost reach the launch button, almost, there, I
can't, oh fuck, fuck, it's stretching my cervix, it hurts, it hurts, no, no, no, it's
not going to make me come, it can't, I can't, no, no, it's filling me, oh, it's filling
me, it's filling me, oh, it's filling me, oh, I can feel something else inside me, it's
trying to seed me, it's rubbing, it's too much, too much, no, no, no, not again, not
again, what is happening to my body, my breasts, they're getting bigger, oh no, no, my skin,
my skin is stretching, the pain is excruciating, god, I know what the ship is trying to do,
it's trying to impregnate me, I can feel it in my uterus, rubbing, it's growing, my tits,
stop, stop, I can't take it anymore, I can't take it anymore, god, god, I can feel it,
I can feel it growing inside me, I can't take it anymore, I can't, I can't take it anymore,
just please, please kill me, please, it is milking my tits, no, please no, please, no,
please kill me, no, please, no, please, no.
Oh
It is, it is finished. It is out of me. It is done with me.
I don't recognize myself. I'm becoming part of the ship, just like that of here.
Of course they kept me alive just for this, to bare their monstrous offspring.
It is growing inside of me. My breasts are engorged with milk and sensitive to the touch.
The ship has seen me as well. My lips seamed together as my vulva pierced.
Exactly as it should be. My vagina is kept only for one thing now, to deliver the spawn of the universe's evil.
It will burst out of me. The threads will snap and it will be alive.
I cannot die. The ship will not let me. At least until this thing comes out of me.
Whatever it will be, it will have unimaginable power. I will have unimaginable power.
There is no longer a commander Carmen Wright, just as there is no longer a Dr. Veer, or for that matter a ship called Event Horizon.
We are all one now, part of the same force and destiny. Just as the ship of spring inside me, I am inside it.
Now, I go to confront my destiny.