Not a Character in a Horror Movie
"Do you believe in ghosts, Bones?"
McCoy heaved a sigh of annoyance at the melodramatic tone of Jim's whisper. Ignoring the way his heartbeat picked up pace slightly, he whirled around.
"Don't do that," he snapped.
Jim looked up at him, his eyebrows rising in feigned innocence.
"Do what?"
"You know damn well what! This place freaks me out and you're just trying to make it worse," McCoy said. Jim's hand shot out and he thumped McCoy lightly on the back.
"Come on, Bones, what's so scary about an old ship?" Jim asked.
McCoy glared at him.
"Besides the fact that its entire crew is missing and we have to wear these bio-suits in case of air-born toxins? Toxins that, for all we know, killed the population of this ship and left it stranded here?" he replied.
"Yeah, well when you put it like that…"
McCoy sighed and resisted the urge smack Jim's head through the rough plastic of the Bio-suit for dragging him onto this creepy ass ship to begin with it.
When McCoy had received a hail from the Bridge, he hadn't thought much of it. Usually, Jim just needed his opinion, medical or otherwise, on something. He'd quickly finished the physical he'd been performing on an ensign from Security, left Chapel in charge, and made his way to the bridge.
As he'd walked through the turbolift doors and was greeted with a patented Jim Kirk grin, alarms started going off in the back of his mind. That grin had proceeded many a bad night.
"You wanted to see me, Jim?" he asked cautiously.
"Yeah, Bones, take a look at this," Jim said, pointing towards the large view screen on the Bridge. McCoy's eyes followed. A large ship, about half the size of their own and unmarked, lay directly in front of them. No lights shone anywhere on it, making the ship look completely dead. It was an eerie sight.
"What's wrong with it?" McCoy asked, stepping up nearer the window to get a better look at the ship.
"That's what you and I are going to find out," Jim said brightly.
McCoy turned sharply around.
"Excuse me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"The ship isn't answering any of our calls, so we need to beam over and see if anyone is even there or if they need the help of the finest doctor this side of the Mississippi," Jim said, standing up from his chair.
"I suppose it's useless for me to say how much I dislike being included in that plan?"
"Yep. But, if you makes you feel better, by all means," Jim gestured wide with his hand.
"When are we going?" he asked begrudgingly, crossing his arms.
"Right now," Jim said. "We got to get suited up first."
McCoy groaned.
"The Bio-suits? I hate wearing those, they rub me in all the wrong places," he said. Jim grimaced.
"Thanks for the image, Bones. Would you rather be exposed to the potentially fatal disease-causing agents running through the air on that ship?" Jim asked.
"No," McCoy drawled. Jim smiled.
"Exactly. Let's go."
As soon as they'd materialized in the transport room of the dormant ship, a chill had run up McCoy's spine. He thought it was just an after effect of having his molecules scattered precariously through space, but the pitch-blackness that surrounded them probably had something to do with it. He'd glanced at Jim, thankful the Bio-Suits face masks lit up dimly and enabled him to see a clear outline of Jim's own anxious face staring back at him.
"Anybody home?" Jim called before smirking at McCoy. Surprisingly, that smile did manage to calm his nerves, just a fraction. When they were met with silence, they had stepped off the pod. They both reached into their pockets for the flashlights they had thankfully had the foresight to pack and switched them on before making their ways through the darkened halls. The whole place was dead silent, apart from a weird whistling noise that seemed to echo around them. A noise that, to Jim, was the sound of the ship's now apparently ghost crew.
They'd continued walking in silence after Jim asked him if he believed in ghosts. McCoy was trying to ignore the lingering chill he felt, the one that made his arms erupt in goose bumps and had him constantly checking over his shoulder. After ten minutes of finding no sign of any of the crew, they came to a junction in the hallway. Jim stopped and looked at him.
"Bones, I hate to say it, but I think we're going to need to split up," he said with a sympathetic grimace. McCoy closed his eyes briefly and then looked at Jim with a sigh.
"Yeah, okay," he said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. This place truly did freak him out and splitting up was the last thing he wanted to do. But, it made sense. This place was huge and if they needed to search the whole thing, they would cover more ground separately. Jim put a heavy, gloved hand on his shoulder.
"Check in with me or Spock every half an hour," he said. McCoy nodded. "And try not to get into any trouble."
"I'd say the same thing to you but I know you'd probably ignore it," McCoy grumbled. Jim smiled before heading down the hallway to the right. McCoy watched him until he was out of sight and went to the left.
This ship was older, evidenced by the lack of keypads and automatically opening doors. Each one he came to was closed and, when he tried the handle, locked. In the middle of the hall stood an upturned table that he had to carefully maneuver around; not an easy task in the stiff, bulky suits. Abruptly, a large thump coming from up ahead caused him to jump slightly in alarm.
He pointed the flashlight out in front of him, illuminating the steel hallway. A door to his right that was labeled "Rec Room 3" was slightly ajar. He pushed it and it slowly creaked open. He stepped in the room and shone the light all around it. There was a chess set setting on the nearest table, set up for a game that appeared to have been interrupted. He leaned in. There was an odd lack of dust on the pieces. Everything else in the place so far was covered by a fine layer of it, yet the chess board was perfectly clean.
"Bones?"
He jumped about a foot into the air, his flashlight slipping from his grasp as Jim's voice sounded in the comm unit in his ear. He struggled to reach the tiny button on the front of his suit, his heart pounding.
"Jesus, Jim, you scared the shit out of me," he said in way of greeting. Jim's low chuckle sounded over the line.
"Sorry," he said. "Everything okay on your end?"
"I guess," McCoy said, looking around for his flashlight.
"You guess?" Jim asked distractedly. His breathing was heavy, like he was running or going up stairs.
"Well, there isn't anything here," McCoy said as walked over to the corner where his flashlight had fallen. "Not a single thing that indicates what happened, either."
"Keep looking," Jim said shortly. McCoy grunted.
"Yes, sir," he drawled. Jim must have hung up for there was no witty reply issuing from the comm. McCoy did one last swoop around the room with the light before backing out slowly. As he walked out into the corridor, something white flashed in the corner of his eye, just out of focus. He turned sharply only to find…
Nothing.
The hallway was completely empty aside from the table he'd struggled across. He shook his head before turning and continuing to make his way forward. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He rubbed the back of his neck through the suit, trying to tame the hairs there that had begun to stand up.
/
Two hours later, he had yet to find anything and his frustration had only grown. Nothing could be found of any of the ship's crew. Nothing was too-out of place, but nothing seemed as it should be, either. Random pieces of furniture were scattered throughout the halls. Not just like it had been overturned by some turbulence, either. Furniture that had no place being where it should. He came across a twin bed in the cafeteria area, covers still tucked in, a writing desk near the engine room, a chest of drawers in the Medbay.
Medbay itself had been quite the enigma. The whole place seemed to have been cleared out. The shelves were completely bare; not a hypo or sterile white bandage in sight. The beds, too, were stripped down to the mattresses and when he'd looked in the offices, found the rooms deserted. He'd searched the drawers for any kind of PADD or record of…something. He'd slammed them closed in anger. His search felt useless.
He'd left Medbay, knowing he had about 15 minutes still until he needed to check in with Jim. Last time he'd talked to him, Jim had been in the engine room. He was looking at the various circuit boards there to determine why the power had stopped. Apparently, he hadn't been able to fix anything as McCoy was still in resolute darkness.
"He knows…He knows…"
Suddenly, he came to a halt. The voice that sounded was faint; more of a moan than anything. But there was no mistaking what he heard.
"Hello?" he called, shining his flashlight up and down the hall. His breathing quickened. He turned quickly and took off the way he had come, thinking that may have been where the voice had sounded from. He strained his ears for any more sounds. When the silence was suddenly punctuated with muffled laughter, he stopped. Scowling, he slapped the button on his chest.
"Dammit, Jim! Will you knock it off? What are you, eight?" he snapped into the comm.
"What?" came the confused voice.
"I know that was you just now. I could hear you laughing," McCoy said.
"Doing what? Bones, I'm still down in the engines," Jim said back.
"Yeah, like I believe that," McCoy snorted.
"I'm serious. I think I figured out how to turn the lights back on. Give me a second," there was silence for a moment and then suddenly light erupted all around him. His heart clenched painfully before dropping down into his stomach.
"You mean…that wasn't you talking?" he whispered. He leaned his back against the nearest wall.
"No…" Jim said slowly, his own voice low.
"Somebody's still on board, Jim," McCoy said, looking quickly up and down the hall he was in. "I heard them talking."
"Where are you?" Jim asked anxiously.
"Deck 4, right by Medbay," he answered.
"Don't move, I'll be right there. Kirk out."
McCoy swallowed hard to fight against the rising panic. It was going to be okay. Jim was coming. It was going to be okay. He turned his flashlight off and put it in his pocket. The addition of light was nice. He could now see the whole hallway, not just the small area his flashlight touched. All the doors were closed, like they had been on all the previous floors. Wherever the voice had come from, it hadn't been from one of the rooms. There was, however, a connecting hallway the joined with his about 10 meters to his right. The rational side of him wanted to just wait here for Jim. Jim was the Captain, trained for this kind of thing. On the other hand, he did not like the thought that he needed Jim to "rescue him" from the big bad ghosts. Or whatever it was he had heard. It was probably a crewman of this ship, hurt and alone and needing help. He was a doctor, dammit, helping people was his job. Throwing caution to the wind, he slowly stood up from the wall. He took a deep breath and slowly edged his way towards the other hallway.
"Is anybody here?" he called.
Again, he was met with laughter, loud giggles that echoed off the steel walls and hard floors. It was a terrifying sound that gripped his insides with an icy panic.
"Not a soul in hell," a voice finally said.
It definitely came from the hallway he was walking towards. It was a male voice, speaking slowly, with the barest hints of a smirk lining the words.
"What?" McCoy shouted back, clenching his hands to his sides.
"Hell is empty," the voice was saying "because all the devils are here."
Only five feet away now, McCoy's heart was racing in double time. He stopped at the mouth of the hallway, took a deep breath, and stepped into it. He scanned it quickly, seeing no one.
"Where are you?" he yelled.
"Right behind you."
McCoy felt a hand land on his shoulder and yelped as he stumbled back. He whipped around, only to see Jim staring at him with raised eyebrows. He could have collapsed from relief. McCoy's hands dropped to his knees as tried to get his breathing back to normal.
"Did you find them?" Jim asked, glancing around the hall as McCoy stood hunched in near hyperventilation. He just shook his head.
"They're…down here somewhere," he managed, standing up straight. "They're quotin' Shakespeare at me," he added, staring around the hall with narrowed eyes. He and Jim briefly shared a look before they continued walking. They came to the first door on their right, one labeled "Bio Lab". McCoy glanced at the one on the left, marked "Bio Lab 2" and saw that labs 3, 4, and 5, made up the rest of the hallway. Jim reached up for the handle. Jim and McCoy both bristled with surprise when it twisted in his hand. He pushed lightly on the wood, sending the door open with a creak. They stepped into the room, surveying it. Unlike the rest of the ship, this place was a mess. The counters were littered with trays, vials, flasks, and scales. Drawers were open, some ripped completely out and laying overturned on the ground. And, it was completely bare of the fine layer of dust that seemed to cover the entire ship. They both walked further into the large room.
"Bones!" Jim suddenly called, pointing to the far corner. McCoy followed his line of sight, stopping when it reached the crumbled body of man lying on the floor next to scattered papers and shattered glass. They ran over to him. McCoy dropped to his knees beside him, reaching for the man's neck to feel for a pulse. Feeling none, he looked up, confusion lining his face.
"He's dead, Jim," he said.
Jim looked from the body to McCoy with his mouth open for a few moments before hitting the comm button on his suit.
"Kirk to Enterprise."
Jim walked back out of the room as he updated Spock, his voice trailing. McCoy turned back to the body, eyeing it careful. This couldn't be the owner of the voice he heard calling earlier. This body wasn't just dead, it was cold and dead. At least a couple of hours, if he'd had to guess. There were no obvious wounds on it, though. He looked around the body with a sigh, picking up the papers. He scanned them, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Jim," he called quietly. "You better come take a look at this."
Jim came rushing back through the door.
"What?" he asked.
McCoy held up the papers for him to see. Jim grabbed them from him.
Words lined the pages, quickly scribbled and smeared in some places. "Jansen knows. Smith knows. Dervet knows. Minsgof knows. Wethers knows. Dormer knows…" the names went on and on, the handwriting getting sloppier and sloppier the closer towards the end it got. So by the time Jim and McCoy looked at the back of the last page, it was illegible.
"What do you think it means?" McCoy asked. Jim shook his head, his eyes still on the form.
"Hell if I know," he muttered. At his words, laughter echoed around the room, causing both Jim and McCoy to turn sharply towards the door. No one was there.
"You heard that too, right?" Jim asked. McCoy nodded glumly, wishing he hadn't. McCoy stood and joined Jim as they rushed quickly out of the room, glancing up and down the hall. Again, it was deserted. And all the doors were closed tight.
"I really hate this place," McCoy said, turning to face Jim.
"Bones," he muttered, his face pensive. "You sure you don't believe in ghosts?"
"I will punch you if you ask me that again," McCoy replied.
"It's just…" Jim trailed off, eyeing the doors critically.
"What?" McCoy snapped.
"When I last talked to the Enterprise, Scotty said they were able to get an actual scan of this ship," Jim said.
"Anything good?"
"Just that there were only two life signs on board," Jim answered quietly. "You…and me."
Silence followed Jim's words. McCoy stood up straight, taking a deep, calming breath. He made sure his voice didn't waver in the slightest.
"Jim, can we get the fuck out of here please?"
Jim nodded and they took off at a run.
/
Hey guys! Hope you are all having a great week. Definitely let me know how you liked this chapter. It wasn't my favorite by any means. I really, really, REALLY like the next one though. It was crazy fun to write. In case you were wondering, the ending to this one was deliberately left open/unclear because I'm still on the fence about whether or not I want to return to it. I'll think about it. Anyways, thanks for reading!
-Ashley
Up Next: Not Their Mother.
