NOVEL NEXT Chapter 42
Pako's kiss finally relented, her lips parting from Syn's with a soft, satisfied hum, leaving his chest heaving as he gulped air like a man resurfaced from drowning. She slid off him with a playful bounce, her bare feet hitting the medic room tiles with a light slap, her tanned skin gleaming faintly under the sterile lights as she adjusted her shorts, her shirt still dangling loosely around her shoulders. Syn sat up, his shirt rumpled and damp from her relentless press, his breath steadying as he rubbed his neck, the ghost of her grip still tingling against his skin.
"Can you show me the rest of the spaceship?" he asked, his voice low but firm, cutting through the lingering haze of her affection. He needed to know more—resources, crew, machinery, firepower—anything to anchor himself here, to be more than a toy passed between the girls' teasing whims. The shapeshifter chaos had stirred a restless drive in him, a need to understand this pirate world beyond their kisses and chaos.
Pako tilted her head, her short black hair swaying as she pouted, her dark eyes narrowing with a dull glint of boredom. "There's nothing fun in this boring spaceship," she said, her tone dragging with exaggerated disinterest, her hands planting on her hips. "Except my room—we can have all the fun there. No rules against clothes, just naked and free." Her pout curved into a mischievous smirk, her voice dipping into a sultry lilt as she stepped closer, her fingers brushing his arm with a teasing nudge, her bare chest swaying subtly beneath her open shirt.
Syn's brow furrowed, his gaze narrowing with a mix of doubt and exasperation as he leaned back, dodging her advance. "How are you so horny all the time?" he asked, his tone blunt, unfiltered, cutting through her playful veneer with a sharpness born of genuine bewilderment. Her relentless libido was a storm he couldn't weather, a force that battered his restraint with every sultry glance.
Pako grinned, her smirk widening into a cheeky crescent as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with a wicked spark. "It's just when I'm around you, I guess," she purred, her voice a velvet tease as she stepped closer still, her bare toes brushing his boots. "I need to get it out of my system—pent-up energy, you know? One long session, you and me, until I'm fully satisfied." Her suggestion hung in the air, bold and unapologetic, her hands gesturing expansively as if mapping out the scene, her tanned curves a provocative lure in the dim light.
Syn exhaled, a slow, steady breath as he shook his head, his expression flattening into a wry smirk. "I'll take a raincheck on that," he said, his tone dry but resolute, sidestepping her offer with a deft pivot. "For now, it'd be a big help if you showed me the ship."
"Ya, ya—follow me," Pako sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned toward the door, her hips swaying with a deliberate swagger. "Or should I get you a collar so you don't get lost?" Her voice lilted with mockery, her head tilting back as she tossed the jab over her shoulder, her smirk flashing in the corner of his vision.
Syn's hand darted out, a swift slap landing on her ass cheek with a sharp crack, the sound echoing in the medic room's stillness. Pako yelped, a mix of pain and surprise bursting from her lips as she flinched, her hand flying to her hip where a faint red mark bloomed beneath her shorts. "Now I can find you from far away," Syn said, his voice laced with a grim humor, his smirk widening as he nodded toward the handprint, a playful jab that carried a flicker of his old defiance. Pako glared back, rubbing the spot with a pout, but her eyes glinted with a begrudging amusement as she led him out, the door hissing shut behind them.
Their footsteps faded into the corridor, the ship's hum swallowing the echo of their banter, but the moment didn't vanish—it lingered, captured by a security camera perched in the medic room's shadowed corner. Its lens whirred faintly, a silent sentinel feeding its footage to a dark room aglow with the flicker of multiple screens. The central display—a large, curved monitor—shifted, the medic room dissolving into a live view of the corridor where Syn and Pako now walked, her swagger a teasing counterpoint to his steady stride.
A girl with long white hair sat before the screens, her headphones snug against her ears, her face lit by the cold glow of the monitors. A grin curled her lips, sharp and predatory, as she watched, her fingers brushing blood from her cheek—a crimson smear she wiped away with a casual flick, staining the sleeve of her already blood-soaked shirt. Her white pupils shimmered, a stark gleam in the dimness, then darkened to black, a shift as subtle as it was chilling. Behind her, green bodies sprawled across the floor—lifeless shapeshifters, their forms twisted in death, their blood pooling in dark, glistening patches across the tiles.
One stirred, a faint cough gurgling from its throat as blood bubbled past its lips, its white eyes flickering weakly toward her. "Why?" it rasped, its voice a broken thread, barely audible as it struggled to lift its head. "You're… one of us, aren't you?" The words hung, a plea laced with betrayal, its strength fading as it slumped back, its gaze dimming.
Mia rose, her expression blank, emotionless—a mask carved from ice as she stepped toward it, her blood-streaked boots silent against the floor. She didn't answer, didn't flinch, her silence a void that swallowed its question. Her right hand lifted, her index finger pointing at its forehead, the tip hovering inches away. Then, in a blink, her finger morphed—a grotesque spike erupting from her flesh, gleaming wetly as it pierced the shapeshifter's skull with a sickening *crunch*. Blood sprayed, a dark arc splattering her already stained clothes, and the body went limp, its white eyes glazing over as life snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
She straightened, her white hair swaying as she turned, her gaze sweeping the room with a clinical detachment. Bodies littered the floor—five in all, the last remnants of the shapeshifter infiltrators she'd hunted down in this shadowed sanctum. She sighed, a faint exhale that carried no remorse, only the weight of a task unfinished. Disposal loomed—a chute in her room offered a silent exit to the void of space, but timing was critical. The ship was still powered down, its stillness a cloak for her work, but Vera's awakening meant motion was imminent. Once the engines roared back to life, she could jettison these corpses unnoticed, their green husks drifting into the black, dismissed as space garbage by any passing scan.
Her eyes flicked back to the central screen, Syn and Pako's figures moving through the corridor—his steady gait, her teasing sway—a flicker of amusement tugging at her grin as she watched, her headphones humming faintly with the feed's audio. She stepped toward a corner, retrieving disposal bags from a hidden compartment, their plasticky sheen crinkling as she shook them open. The bodies were heavy, their limbs stiffening with death's rigor, and she worked methodically—stuffing the first into a bag, its green flesh bulging against the seams as she sealed it tight, then dragging it to the chute's edge. She paused, glancing at the screen again, her grin widening as Pako's voice crackled through—"No restrictions against clothes, naked and free…"—a fleeting distraction she indulged before turning back to her grim task.
The second body resisted, its arm catching on the bag's edge, and she grunted, shoving it in with a forceful push, the sound of flesh against plastic a dull thud in the quiet room. Blood smeared her hands, sticky and cold, and she wiped them absently on her shirt, the stains blending into the crimson patchwork already soaking the fabric. Vera's recovery would spark the ship soon—she could feel it, the hum of impending life beneath her feet—and she quickened her pace, zipping the third bag shut with a sharp tug, her white hair falling forward as she bent to haul it aside. The fourth and fifth followed, each sealed with a practiced snap, their weight a burden she bore with a chilling calm, her mind already calculating the chute's release—waiting for the ship's engines to roar, masking her purge in the chaos of motion.
She stood, her gaze drifting back to the screens, the corridor feed now showing Syn and Pako turning a corner, their banter a distant hum through her headphones. The shapeshifters were gone—her work here done, their green husks bagged and ready, a silent purge unnoticed by the crew. She sighed again, a soft release of breath as she wiped her hands once more, the blood flaking dry against her skin. Just in case they were spotted, they'd be dismissed as space garbage—drifting debris in the void, a secret she'd bury in the vast space.