Keepers

It had been long past the inquiring moments, wondering why the ship malfunctioned and crash-landed on a planet that was only supposed to be a mere pretty painting in the observatory room. Long past the adrenaline of waking from the crash with only a few bruises and a missing co-pilot that kept sanity and pushed away the loneliness of space travel. And long past fear, although there was no acceptance.

Survival was all that was left.

Kol vomited pink and yellow, leaning on one of the countless, crowded trees, their height reaching the dark crimson night skies, with their strange snake-like black branches and black sharp leaves.

He wiped his mouth, promising blushing berries hidden within the roots of wild foliage, another thing he could not eat here. It had been four earth months since the crash and now he starved without food for the last six earth days. He would have had more food from the ship if half of it hadn't caught fire upon landing.

At least the air was okay, thicker but not poison to his lungs — for now. He took in a deep breath. 'God,' he thought, 'I'm going to starve to death.' Alone, but not truly. It was when the sun went down fifteen earth hours after landing that he could see the reflecting eyes of creatures lurking and watching him.

It took him the first month to realize that it wasn't many creatures he was seeing, but creatures with many eyes. They did not get close to him, even now when he was visibly thinner and weaker. But they watched. For whatever reason, it was all they wanted to do.

He looked at his vomit. Or maybe they watched because they knew his flesh and meat would kill them.

"I don't want to die," Kol whispered, leaning his head on the damp bark. It smelled of light tobacco and sweetness. His co-pilot was gone, probably dead; the radio could not reach anyone, the ship wasn't repairable, and there was nothing edible, nothing to sustain him. "Fuck." At least rain came often, once a day, and somehow his body was able to absorb it.

The sounds of the strange, otherworldly forest murmured. Kol's eyelids drooped down. It was always so easy to fall asleep, now even more so as death's lullaby seemed to grow louder. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the crash in abstract colors and sounds. He would always wake up with the sound of his voice in a shrieked cry. But as he fell asleep, standing and leaning on the black bark next to his failed meal, within those few seconds of drifting into another world, he saw the colors, he heard the sounds. Though when it was time for his scream, instead, he heard a familiar voice, whispered as if it manifested deep inside his mind.

Kol jolted, opening his eyes. And that was when he heard the whisper again. His heart swelled and thumped, urging him to follow the sound. His mind hushed his body. Wait, listen again, make sure it's real, not a hallucination.

"Help." The voice was weak and rasped.

The murmurs of the forest seemed to quiet. Kol waited again, needing another confirmation of this reality.

"Help, please."

Kol's eyes widened. Then he whispered, "Jameson?"

"Kol, help."

Kol took steps towards the sound, somewhere to his right. He looked between the black trees and to the right of him, a quick movement. A wave of a thin hand. "Jameson?" Kol said louder. Was he alive this whole time? Just lost? Was he no longer going to try to survive this alone? "Jameson, is that actually you?"

"Hurry."

Kol took a few steps forward over twisting roots, his legs gaining new strength. "How are you injured? I-I don't have any medical supplies."

Rasped and weak, Jameson said, "Head."

Kol quickened his pace towards his co-pilot. "Where have you been? Why are you showing up now?"

And when he got to him, Kol gasped and jumped back, almost tripping, eyes wide, mouth agape. Heart hammering. Mind blanking. Skin crawling.

God.

Oh God. Oh God. What is this?

A drizzle of rain began.

Jameson's thin body was held up with roots, his skin purple, his eyes gray-white. Roots emerged from his nose, mouth, and the corners of his eyes, while his head was cradled by a crown of roots, their fingers digging deep into his flesh. Despite his condition, he still wore the same clothes Kol had last seen him in: a white jumpsuit, now too large for him, somehow still clean after the crash and after all this time.

Jameson's mouth was pried open by a thick root wrapped around his jaw, while a thinner one encircled his purple tongue. "Don't fear," he uttered, his voice sounding like that of his co-pilot, but distorted, as if he were in a drugged daze.

Kol staggered back, his eyes widening to the point where one could see every thin red vein taking over the whites of his eyes.

This felt like hell. Maybe he had died, and this was his afterlife. Or perhaps it was a twisted hallucination induced by eating the wrong things. Kol gripped his head and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to wake up.

Opening his eyes and finding nothing changed, Kol couldn't help but let out a weak whimper.

"Don't fear," It said again, "please."

"I'm dead?" Kol asked in a whisper. And who was he seeing? Someone from above or below.

The mouth opened again, "Jameson died in the crash. You did not."

Kol took a step back. "I-I don't—what's going on!"

The roots tightened around Jameson's right arm and slowly lifted it. It was then Kol noticed how Jameson's chest expanded, and as it did the roots inside his mouth and nose twitched and vibrated.

"Don't fear. Please. Message for you."

Message. With another step back, Kol felt a presence behind him. He froze again, but he had enough strength to ask in a more commanding voice, "What is going on!"

There was a long pause. During the silence, Jameson's chest filled and emptied, filled and emptied, filled and emptied, and the roots in his mouth vibrated so much that Kol could see it through Jameson's throat. It could have been mistaken for a strong, offbeat pulse.

Kol yelled, "Answer!" Tears forming in his eyes. Body shaking like it was when he realized he had crashed, was alone and unable to contact his team.

Jameson's arm was pulled down. "Head trauma. From crash. He died. His blood attracted the predators...and us. We took him." More vibrations before Jameson's jaw was once again moved for him. "Message: You will die. You can't eat. Not here. Too Alien." Vibrations and twitches. "We can help. We can keep you alive."

Kol thought for a moment. It had been watching him. Then he thought of the eyes; all they did was watch him for months.

"Y-your the eyes? Watching me?"

His co-pilot paused, as if he was thinking, and then finally said, "Yes. No. We connect, but I am not the eyes. I use them to see."

"What are you? What are you doing to him?" Kol asked. He grew tired again and wanted nothing more but to close his eyes.

The roots moved Jameson's jaw and tongue again. "Us. We use him to communicate."

"Jameson is not there?" Kol asked, the rain mixing with his tears. "At all?"

The roots inside the body vibrated again. "Head trauma. From crash. He died."

"How—who—what are you doing to his body!" Kol's voice barely rose another octave despite his efforts.

Jameson started "breathing" again. "Apologies. We feel disgust. For communication. We have no flesh."

"Language! How do you know mine?"

The roots lowered Jameson's head, showing extent of the thin, numerous roots that dug themselves into his skin. The roots then rose his head. "We connected."

God, this was some kind of horror. But Kol's curiosity creeped in, intruding in on his fear. It's own roots reaching over fear's head, knowing full well it was the reason Kol left Earth in the first place. Landed him here.

"Kol?" His name, coming from Its mouth, sounded almost normal. Almost.

Kol nodded as if he was listening to a slow musical beat. He took a real, normal, but shaky breath. "Message. Again, what was it?"

Vibrations. "You will die. You can't eat. Not here. Too Alien. We can help. We can keep you alive."

Kol commanded, not letting a second between Its words and his, "Why?"

Jameson breathed again, the roots stretched his mouth before saying, "New body. New blood. New DNA. New cells. You can make us stronger. In exchange, we will feed you. Keep you safe. Keep you alive."

Kol thought for a moment. "How?"

"With your acceptance," It said, speaking slowly.

"Acceptance of what."

"Of us. If accepted, we will feed you. Keep you safe. Keep you alive."

Curiosity couldn't truly overpower his fear. DNA. Cells. Roots taking over a body to speak through it like a communication device. But if it was telling the truth, maybe it could keep him alive until the next unit finds his last coordinates, then others could find him on this planet. Save him and bring him back home. But he was dealing with an alien entity— he thinks anyway— and he wasn't sure if they had the concept of lying.

Jameson twitched and breathed quickly. "We cannot lie."

Kol almost jumped. "How-How did you—"

"The air you inhale. The water you drink."

"What?"

"It is how we know you are hungry. Tired. Scared." Jameson paused to breath, the roots covered more of him. "Us, we cannot lie. No concept."

Kol looked at Jameson's poor body. "Why not just use him?"

"He cannot give acceptance."

"Why do you need it?"

Another pause, but Jameson wasn't vibrating or twitching and everything became oddly quiet.

After a minute Kol asked, "Hello?"

Jameson starting breathing again. The pulse in his neck beating a strange pattern. "Rot will grow, if unwilling."

"Rot?"

"Yes."

Kol took a few seconds to process. He understood, but it was such an idea. Spiritual even. He still didn't know how this worked, what that thing really wanted from him. What he would really give. All he could think about was Jameson's state and if that would be his state too if he accepted. But then another part of him, which could almost laugh, wondered if he was truly believing this possible hallucination, dream, hell.

Kol took a breath. "What will." He stopped speaking, closed his eyes, wondering if he should ask. "Shit," he muttered to himself. "What would that entail. What would you do to me?"

The roots shifted. Jameson's mouth opened. "We will keep you in our center until help arrives. We feed you. Keep you safe. Keep you alive."

"How could you feed me if there is nothing here I can eat. You said that yourself."

"The air. You breathe from our center, your body will react, first fighting then, slowly, your body will see no invasion."

There were three low growl-click's behind Kol, and his ears twitched towards the sound, but he didn't look. Only froze, tiredness vanishing.

That was real. Yes, real. Because his body reacted, hair standing up at the back of his neck, heart beating a warning. And nothing felt like a dream anymore.

"How long can you keep the predators away?"

Another pause, another twitch. "Apologies, not longer. The cycle must go on."

Kol sighed and crouched down, running his hands over his damp face and oily hair. He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to become like Jameson.

Kol heard the roots shift before his co-pilot said, "Jameson died. You will not with acceptance."

The growls-click came again, and Kol took a peek behind him. All he could see between the black trees of this alien forest was the many eyes shining, watching, wanting. And they were closer, much closer than they had ever been.

Kol's stomach clenched and cramped with starvation, and the tiredness came back, overwhelming him in an almost dizzying wave. What other choice did he have? If this was a dream, at least there would be no real consequences. However, if it wasn't, it would take months before another team made it to this planet. In that time, he could either starve to death, get eaten, consume something poisonous enough to kill him, or perish at the hands of this alien entity, this forest being. But at least trusting the thing held two paths, and it was possible that one led to survival, unlike everything else.

He stood up.

"I accept," Kol said as there was another growl-click that was louder, harsher.

"Thank you, Kol." Jameson's body slumped down.

The roots came up from the ground like dried tentacles, slowly creeping their way to Kol's feet. If his co-pilot was alive, he would hear for the first time Kol whispering prayers; prayers that used to be unneeded and useless in the expanse of space.

Kol could feel his legs stiffen from the roots, and while they rose, the ground shifted and trembled. Kol could feel the earth moving away from each other. He wanted to ask, "What's happening?" But as the seconds went by, he felt light.

Lighter and lighter and lighter . . .

Kol didn't even realize that his heart, which had pounded with adrenaline, had gone almost all but silent. His stomach, cramping and moaning, stopped wanting. His exhaustion was barely a memory.

The earth beneath his feet opened and the roots pulled him down, gently, not to shake or stir his mind. Kol descended down and after about 20 feet of dirt, he entered with the roots into a large cavern. So large that it seemed to have it's own dark ecosystem illuminated by neon colored flora and fungus. The inner walls were covered in speleothem that glittered in the light of the illuminations. Shadowy creatures lurked, hiding, but watching Kol wrapped in roots slowly floating down.

Kol's eyes still worked. And what he saw would have been a fearful sight if had seen it just minutes before. Within this underground cavern, changed and covered by the livings things in the darkness of this realm was not only his ship, but others as well, plenty and emptied.