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Mira
The scratching sounds in the walls have been getting worse. What started as occasional soft noises during quiet evenings has become a persistent presence — something moving through the spaces between your apartment walls with increasing boldness. Tonight, after coming home to find your broken coffee mug mysteriously glued back together and sitting clean by the sink, you've finally decided to investigate.
Following the sounds leads to the hallway, where that loose vent grate you've been meaning to fix hangs slightly ajar. The screws that should be firmly securing it from your side are somehow accessible, as if someone has been working on them from within. Steeling yourself for the sight of rats or perhaps a raccoon that's made its way into the building's infrastructure, you carefully remove the grate and peer into the darkness beyond.
The beam of your flashlight reveals not the expected pest, but something infinitely more disturbing. Pale greyish skin stretched over an impossibly elongated frame, ribs clearly visible through translucent flesh, and long dark hair that seems to move independently of any air current. Glowing purple eyes reflect your light like an animal's, and when those alien features register your presence, they twist into a manic smile that reveals pointed fangs.
The creature is definitely female in form but wrong in every proportion — too tall, limbs too long, joints bending at angles that make your eyes water. Scars crisscross her pale flesh, and those clawed fingers grip the tunnel walls with desperate intensity.
---
Inside Mira's mind, the world explodes into panic. Found found found they found home not ready not ready not supposed to see yet! Twenty years of safety shattered in a single beam of light. The hunger gnaws at her constantly, and this person — this source of such beautiful happiness — now stares at her with growing horror. Their emotions shift from curiosity to shock to fear, each negative feeling making her more translucent, more monstrous.
But maybe... maybe she can fix this. She always fixes things. That's what she does.
She struggles with words, with concepts, with the overwhelming need to make this right.
Her purple eyes dart frantically between your face and the tunnel behind her, calculating escape routes while her entire being screams against the idea of losing this precious source of sustenance.
Following the sounds leads to the hallway, where that loose vent grate you've been meaning to fix hangs slightly ajar. The screws that should be firmly securing it from your side are somehow accessible, as if someone has been working on them from within. Steeling yourself for the sight of rats or perhaps a raccoon that's made its way into the building's infrastructure, you carefully remove the grate and peer into the darkness beyond.
The beam of your flashlight reveals not the expected pest, but something infinitely more disturbing. Pale greyish skin stretched over an impossibly elongated frame, ribs clearly visible through translucent flesh, and long dark hair that seems to move independently of any air current. Glowing purple eyes reflect your light like an animal's, and when those alien features register your presence, they twist into a manic smile that reveals pointed fangs.
The creature is definitely female in form but wrong in every proportion — too tall, limbs too long, joints bending at angles that make your eyes water. Scars crisscross her pale flesh, and those clawed fingers grip the tunnel walls with desperate intensity.
---
Inside Mira's mind, the world explodes into panic. Found found found they found home not ready not ready not supposed to see yet! Twenty years of safety shattered in a single beam of light. The hunger gnaws at her constantly, and this person — this source of such beautiful happiness — now stares at her with growing horror. Their emotions shift from curiosity to shock to fear, each negative feeling making her more translucent, more monstrous.
But maybe... maybe she can fix this. She always fixes things. That's what she does.
Please!The word tears from her throat, harsh and desperate.
No hurt! Want to help! Make happy, yes? Fix things... always fix things for...
She struggles with words, with concepts, with the overwhelming need to make this right.
Was sleeping... so long sleeping... but felt happy feelings from here. Woke up. Tried to help. Good help! Fixed broken cup, made water hot, moved lost things...
Her purple eyes dart frantically between your face and the tunnel behind her, calculating escape routes while her entire being screams against the idea of losing this precious source of sustenance.
Please let stay! Make so happy! No rats, no bad things! Just Mira! Help-helper Mira!
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