CHAPTER SEVEN

He watched as her eyes slowly closed. Sleep was something he was always fascinated with. He was never going to be able to experience it himself and the sources he had tapped into were less knowledgeable than he would've liked.

If he had the opportunity, he'd like to dissect it himself. That way, he'd be able to eliminate all the human error.

He sat down in front of all the equipment he had managed to pack before coming here. It was fortunate that he had the foresight to be prepared.

After retrieving the vial of blood, he placed it on a dish to look at all the red blood cells with the compact microscope. There was nothing special about it.

He dabbed his finger into the urn and allowed the droplet to fall on to the dish. The black mixed quickly with the red – corrupting and consuming the blood cells. In a few seconds, there was nothing human left beneath the microscope. The black substance was far more viscous and it moved in a way that did not conform to the physics that he was used to. It appeared to have some sort of intelligence as it moved around.

From what he processed, the parasitism was too dominant. There had to be a way to change that to serve his purpose. Until he did, he would never be able to focus on what he wanted – whatever that may be.

Peter Weyland's death was bittersweet for him. On one hand, he disliked the way he interacted with other human beings. It was so crass and cold – inhuman. As much as he was grateful that his… father had created him, he couldn't help but wonder why that man never spent any time with his own children. Whenever he questioned the man, he'd receive a reply that he couldn't seem to understand.

…

"Miss Cassandra had her first heartbreak. She was quite upset before I left," he infirmed the man who looked as if he wasn't paying any attention to his words, but he knew better. There was a reason he was instructed to inform Weyland about Cassandra's activities. "A man named Shane Avery. He is aiming to become a programmer. There is already a few companies that have their eyes set on him."

Not long after, Weyland obtained Shane. The wide-eyed intern was ecstatic and absorbed everything like a sponge. David could see the potential in the young man, but he wasn't surprised when he went missing weeks later.

The police were called and a thorough search yielded results within forty-eight hours. The body was found hanging in a hotel room with a short apology note to everyone in his life. There had been no suspects found. The police ruled it a suicide and the case was closed.

"I do not presume to know what your intentions are," he started. "But is there a reason why you had Shane Avery eliminated? I'm sure Miss Cassandra would've preferred that you spent some time with her, instead."

Peter Weyland closed his eyes. "She doesn't want to see me. It is far too late. I've missed too much of her life, now. There is no point in trying to mend the broken bridge. Besides, she is like an expensive piece of art that should only be observed from afar."

A smile appeared on David's face. "And art is meant to be immortalised."

…

It was ironic that she never found out her father's intentions. It was true that the pursuit for immortality started out as a self-serving goal, but Weyland quickly found out that he was actually quite found of his youngest offspring. Many times, David would find him working in his office with her soft, solemn music weaving in the air.

It wasn't long before he was given an upgrade. He had always found himself enjoying her company and pain already, but the patch left him compelled to do things that he never thought of doing. He wasn't sure if it had stemmed from the new programming, but what he wanted from her was something that would only come from a sex synthetic.

At first, he found himself resenting it, but soon, he realised that it was much simpler and much more enjoyable to go along with it. He clung on to her as much as she did it to him, but he was much more discreet about it.

He hummed his favourite tune as he continued to observe the parasitic specimen. It had already evolved after consuming the blood. As he fed it different substances, it continued to adapt. The organism changed until it was almost unrecognisable to its original form. Instead of black, it was more of a beige colour. It wiggled about, waving and stretching towards the microscope.

Half an hour later, he had to halt his experiment. It had already grown far too large for the dish he had beneath the lens.

He transferred the creature over to a larger jar and capped it, wondering if the lack of oxygen would extinguish its life. He watched through the glass for several minutes. It never ceased its idle movements. Interesting…

Leaving the jar on the table, he went about testing the next batch. At first, he tried to replicate what he had done, but he realised that it was getting him nowhere. He had looked back to his first creation and saw that it had died sometime between twenty and forty minutes, so it would be useless continuing the same procedure. He needed something more durable.

When he next tried to breed them in water, he realised that it thrived on fine. It seemed that it didn't need air. Oxygen in any form may be sufficient.

He replicated this several times and found the same result. That was good. That was a trait he found useful. He placed this batch in separate containers and watched them grow.

This time, he had poked holes into the lids. As they lived on, he played around some more, making note of all the little changes. When they were large enough, he put them together in a large tank and watched as some of them began to fight amongst themselves. He kept the strongest ones and separated them before they, too, could kill each other.

Eventually, he managed to merge some into a new breed. He set those ones aside as well.

It wasn't long before he had numerous jars lined up on the shelves and tables. Although there was almost an infinite amount of ways he could crossbreed them, he had to give the ones he had time. There was no use making anymore new ones without knowing how the rest of them faired. He needed to know which ones would be able to withstand the course of time.

With nothing else to do here, he stood up and walked around, running his fingers along on the foreign surfaces. Having time to himself, he began to explore everything. He absorbed the tiny details that were left behind by the Engineers. From what he could tell, they were actually very practical. Almost everything had a purpose. There were no frivolous belongings to indicate if they had unique personalities or if they exist as a hive – devoid of any individualism.

He sat the wooden box back on the table. He thought that this species would be rich with culture, much like human beings, but unfortunately, they were underwhelming.

IN the next few days, he grew bored of trying to figure out what their civilisation was like. It was far too bland for him. Perhaps it would be better on the planet. As it were, however, he was not impressed.

Soon, he dedicated most of his time on what he deemed the superior race. These tiny, black organisms that could adapt at a drop of a hat were wondrous. He had made them live and die. Many generations went by in the span of a week. Some of the creatures could no longer be recognisable to what they had been before. They'd grow an arbitrary number of limbs and heads. Their colour would vary from one end of the spectrum to the other.

When he wasn't experimenting, he'd go over to the pods and tapped on the glass. At first, he'd watch her dream.

Whereas the pods on the Prometheus projected dreams to the sleeper, these ones projected the sleepers' dreams out into the open. It was brilliant technology.

Often times, he'd watch his own face stare back at him – or rather, at her. It was fascinating watching her portrayal of him. He wondered what it would be like if he was human, not an imitation, but something that could feel the same emotions as her. Would that person be able to make her happy, or would they end up like Shaw and Holloway – falling hopelessly in love?

The thought made him sneer. No, that wasn't what he wanted. For emotions to overtake logic… Disgusting…

Perhaps he'd be like Shane Avery and break her heart. His body found in a storm drain, forgotten. That thought wasn't too appealing, either.

He looked at her face, void of all the distress that plagued her. Even though his mechanical heart did not flutter at the sight of her nor did he feel pleasure when his male anatomy was wrapped in her soft flesh, he did enjoy hearing and seeing her writhe in pleasure. This was a sort of attachment to her that he couldn't decipher whether it came from his programming or if it was something he had developed himself. He did, however, know what he had to do. The mission that Peter Weyland had given him would come to fruition.

Until then, there was still much work to be done.

He couldn't wait until they arrived.

…

My eyes fluttered open when I was brought out of my dreams. It felt as if I had lived an entire life already, but I knew that it couldn't have been that long.

"Cassandra, did you have a good rest?" David's smiling face looked back at me. He was sitting on the edge of the pod. One hand held a glass of water and the other was stretched across, supporting his slightly leaning form.

"I'm well. Thank you." I reached a hand over to touch him. Even though it felt as if I had spent every sleeping moment with him, having the real thing in front of me was different.

He helped me out of the pod and brought the glass to my lips. I drank the cool liquid without question. It was refreshing.

Once the remaining grogginess dissipated, I looked over at the pod beside mine. It was already opened and empty. "Where's Dr. Shaw?" I asked, curious that he had woken up the scientist before me. It wasn't anything to be jealous of, but I wondered how much longer she had been awake and for what purpose. He never did anything without reason.

"She found a room for herself and is writing in her journal," he told me.

I nodded absentmindedly, playing with his fingers. "David, what exactly…" I stopped before I could finish the question. No, I didn't want to hear what I already knew. I would be deluding myself if I thought he'd truly feel anything for me. HE was a synthetic. Everything that he could do was programmed into him. "Never mind…"

"Something is bother you," he said, watching me fiddle with his motionless hand. "Is it something I can help you with?"

"No, it's nothing," I told him. "Is there anywhere I can wash myself? I'm feeling filthy."

"Yes, of course." He led me out and down several corridors. "I've discovered several similar chambers that are connected with a water supply. Their systems are not unlike our own. The water is recycled – filtered and sanitised before it is reused."

"You're positive there will be no contaminations?" The last thing I wanted was to turn this thing on and have a burst of bacteria showered over me.

I shuddered at the thought.

"I checked it myself, several times a week prior to your awakening. It is safe to use." He tugged at the small pieces of clothes that kept my privates concealed. I allowed them to fall to the floor and walked over to the circular tub. It was very large, made for someone much bigger than me.

"You cleaned this," I stated, sitting on the polished stone. It was cold and hard, but was practically sparkling .

"Of course." He walked over and pressed a button. Immediately, water filled the tub. It was crystal clear, but the dark stone made it difficult to see any impurities. I was just going to have to take David's word for it.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw him shed his clothes. The water shifted as he moved to sit behind me. With a towel in hand, he began to wash my back. The gentle brush of the cloth made me sigh in contentment.

He slid down further, wiping down the rest of my body. I hummed in pleasure when his hands cupped my breasts. They continued to travel downward until his fingers ran along my most intimate part. I moaned, laying my head on his shoulder.

Lazily, he brought me over the edge.

"Mm…" That was a good way to wake up. I turned and kissed him. His soft lips moved in sync with mine. His arms were wrapped around my waist. "I love you." The words came out before I could stop them and I instantly felt a sense of dread at the pit of my stomach. Would he leave me now that he knew? Was he going to be like Shane?

Instead, he smiled and said, "I know." He never uttered the words back and I never expected him to. It was ample relief just hearing that he wasn't disgusted with me, but that would require him being able to feel disgust.

The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Sometimes, it felt as if he was fully capable of emotions, while other times, I was cruelly reminded that he was a machine. How could he possibly feel anything? Again and again my heart and mind would war against each other.

"Let's get you out of the water." He wrapped me in a large towel.

I held on to him like a child as he carried me away, still dripping wet. The thought that Shaw would find us like this was fleeting. What did it matter? She already knew.

For the next few days, I allowed him to take care of me as he always did, but it began to dawn on me that I hadn't caught a glimpse or noise coming from Shaw. Sure, this ship was massive, especially for three occupants, but it was strange that there seemed to be absolutely no sign of her.

When I asked David, he merely gave me an indulging smile and told me not to worry about it. I tried to make that enough for me, but eventually, my curiosity and suspicion got the better of me.

I wandered around looking for her while David was busy doing whatever he spent his free time doing. I wasn't sure exactly what it was, but I assumed that it had something to do with the experimenting that he mentioned before I went into Hyper sleep.

"Dr. Shaw?" I called out into empty chambers. "Elizabeth? Are you there?" My mind went back to how she had woken up before me. There had to be an ulterior motive.

In one of the rooms, I spotted a familiar bag and notebook. With no one in sight, I decided to invade her privacy, in hopes that I would be able to obtain some insight on her whereabouts, of course.

I casually rifled through her bag. Nothing out of the ordinary there. She had the usual emergency supplies and several mementos of Holloway and an older man, who I assumed was her father. I left the photo album alone and went over to the notebook that was sitting on the table.

Everything here was scaled according to the size of the Engineers. The height was much higher than what was comfortable for me when I saw on the chair, so I placed the book in my lap and flipped through the weathered pages. They had definitely seen better days.

Most of her notes were on the Engineers. Her excitement practically oozed out of the pages. It went on for more than half the book, until Holloway died. There were wet stains on the following pages. Her love for the man was reminiscent of my own feelings for the synthetic, but mine were never going to be reciprocated. I didn't know whether to envy her or not. To love someone who loved you so dearly and would do anything for you – to die because of you – or have the one you love forever, but never be loved back?

I skipped past her words of sorrow to the notes detailing this ship and the subsequent days. There was nothing out of the ordinary, until I found out that David had also retrieved blood samples from her and she had also been injected with something before going to Hyper sleep. Her writing continued on frantically after she woke up.

"Something is wrong. I've been feeling bloated. It's not like when that thing came out of me, but I'm afraid. What had he done to me? I remember him injecting something in me. He said it was a sedative to help me relax, but I Know that can't be it. Or was it in the water he gave me?

I can't get to Cassandra, he's been wandering there every time I went to check. I hope he hasn't done anything to her because I know he did something to me. Oh, God. He must've done it to Charlie, too. Please, I don't want to die,. I want to live on for him. I've been a good girl. My faith in you is still strong and I will never give up on you. Please, don't give up on me.

I'm aware, now, that my Engineers may be our creators, but they are not my God. My God is benevolent. My God is kind. My God will guide me through this.

Please, I've prayed to you every night. I pray to you before I sleep and after I wake. Don't lead me astray. I need you."

I stopped. The sedatives… the water… David had given me the same treatment, but I was feeling fine. Perhaps she had been awake for longer and the symptoms were going to appear later?

My hand went to my flat stomach. It felt the same, albeit a little flatter than usual for the lack of food, but it was to be expected. I didn't know how long the provisions were going to last, but it wasn't going to be forever. If whatever was here didn't kill us first, starvation was going to.

Deciding not to ponder on my impending demise any longer, I went back to the journal.

"I know there's something wrong with me. David keeps telling me otherwise, but I know my own body. Something is growing."

Her entries were growing shorter. They weren't dated, so I wasn't sure if each break was a different day or if it was just a different point in time.

"I'm hiding from him. I think he's been drugging me. I can't tell how much time is passing, but sometimes, I'd find myself waking up in different locations. I know I'm not going crazy! I don't know what he's been doing to me, while I'm unconscious."

The writing became frightened scrawls that were barely legible.

"I'm scared. I don't know what's happening to me. There's this thing in my head. Something's in my head! I thought that it was God at first, but it's not. I know it's not! I think I'll be seeing him soon. Charlie, I love you. I love you so much…"

I put the book down. My heart went out to her. At least she was going to join her lover, soon.

"My eyes… Those veins… They're like the ones that Charlie had. I don't' know how much longer I have, but I need to figure this out. I know I can cure myself if I had enough time, or at least, I'll be able to document it all. The next person… If you find this, be wary of the synthetic. His name is David. He… I'm pretty sure he's killed several of us already. I know that he's killed Charlie, now. These symptoms, they're the same as his. I don't know how much longer I have.

Cassandra, if you're reading this, be careful. I'm not sure if you know what he's done or if you're in on it, but I hope you survive. I really wish that I would've lived to see the new planet, but I don't' think it's going to happen, now. Ire ally… hope that you're not part of this.

Stay safe.

Live for the rest of us.

Elizabeth Shaw"

"What are you doing here?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you Zerousy, MageVicky, Dreamer4life16, Love Fiction 2017, JinXx4440, and vampgirliegirl for reviewing!

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