Beneath the Lunar Skin

The shuttle bay doors refused to budge.

"Manual override's not responding," Miles reported, his fingers frantically working the control panel. Sweat beaded inside his helmet despite the suit's cooling systems.

Hermann shouldered past him. "Step aside." He pulled a small device from his utility belt and attached it to the door's access panel. "Celeste, security bypass code."

She rattled off a string of numbers and letters, her Franco-Italian accent clipping each syllable with precision. The device blinked green, then red.

"Rejected," Hermann muttered. "Something's corrupted the system."

Behind us, the corridor lights flickered in sequence, as if marking the approach of something moving our way. The metallic groaning grew louder.

"We need another route," I said, trying to keep my voice steady while accessing the base schematics on my wrist display. "Maintenance tunnel B-7 connects to the secondary airlock. If we can reach it—"

A deafening screech of tearing metal interrupted me. The sound reverberated through our suits, vibrating our bones.

"There," Ruby pointed to a service hatch on the floor. "Emergency access to the lower level."

Hermann nodded sharply. "Miles, help me with this."

Together they wrenched the hatch open. A ladder descended into darkness.

"I'll go first," Hermann said, already lowering himself. "Ruby, you follow. Then Musa, Celeste, Miles takes rear guard."

One by one, we descended into the maintenance level. The space was cramped, forcing us to hunch as we moved through narrow utility tunnels designed for repair drones rather than humans in bulky EVA suits.

"Comms check," Hermann's voice crackled through the static. We each responded in turn.

"Navigation shows the secondary airlock is approximately 200 meters east," Celeste reported, studying her wrist display.

The tunnels were a maze of pipes and conduits. Emergency lighting cast everything in dim blue, creating disorienting shadows. Our helmet lights carved narrow paths through the darkness.

"Listen," Ruby whispered suddenly.

We froze. Above us, something heavy dragged across the floor of the upper level. Dust and small debris filtered down through the seams in the ceiling panels.

"It's tracking us," Miles said.

"Keep moving," Hermann ordered. "Quietly."

We proceeded more cautiously now, each step measured. The temperature in the maintenance level had dropped significantly, our breath fogging inside our helmets despite the environmental controls.

"Something's wrong with my suit sensors," Celeste said after several minutes. "They're showing impossible readings."

"Define impossible," Hermann asked without breaking stride.

"Negative pressure outside our suits. Temperatures fluctuating between extremes. And..." she hesitated. "Biological readings where there shouldn't be any."

"We all saw what happened to Dennis," Miles said grimly. "That thing isn't from Earth."

"Or the moon," Ruby added. "The markings in the cave... they weren't human."

A memory flashed through my mind – the strange symbols etched into the cave walls, pulsing with an internal light. The same symbols that had appeared in the command center, formed by that viscous substance.

"Wait," I said suddenly. "The transmission Celeste found. Navigator said something about movement in Sector 7 before we even entered the cave."

Hermann stopped, turning to face me. "Your point?"

"What if there's more than one?" I asked, the terrible possibility forming as I spoke. "What if the thing that took Dennis isn't the same as what's hunting us now?"

A heavy silence followed my words, broken only by our breathing.

Celeste's voice was barely audible. "The readings I'm getting... they're everywhere."

As if in response, the metal around us began to vibrate. Slowly at first, then with increasing intensity. Not the mechanical groaning we'd heard before, but something more deliberate – a rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.

"The walls," Ruby whispered.

In the blue emergency light, we could see it now – the metal surfaces were... changing. Microscopic patterns formed and reformed across the panels, like billions of tiny organisms moving in concert.

"Don't touch anything," Hermann commanded, though none of us needed the warning.

The patterns began to coalesce into familiar symbols – the same ones from the cave and command center.

"It's in the structure itself," Celeste breathed. "The whole base is infected."

A section of wall nearest to Miles suddenly bulged outward, the metal stretching impossibly like skin. He stumbled backward, colliding with Ruby.

"Move!" Hermann barked. "NOW!"

We abandoned stealth for speed, racing through the tunnels as the walls around us continued to transform. The metal groaned and shifted, narrowing passages behind us and widening others ahead – guiding us, herding us.

"It's leading us somewhere," I gasped as we rounded another corner.

"Or to something," Miles added.

The tunnel abruptly opened into a larger chamber – a junction point where multiple maintenance shafts converged. In the center stood a figure in an ESA suit.

"Dennis?" Ruby's voice broke with hope and disbelief.

The figure remained motionless, helmet facing away from us.

Hermann raised his hand, signaling us to halt. "Dennis Rhodes, identify yourself."

Slowly, the figure turned. Through the helmet visor, where a human face should have been, there was only darkness – a shifting, swirling void that seemed to absorb the light from our helmets.

"That's not Dennis," Celeste whispered.

The thing wearing Dennis's suit took a step toward us. The movement was wrong – fluid yet jerky, as if it hadn't quite mastered human locomotion.

"Scatter!" Hermann shouted. "Find separate routes to the airlock!"

We broke in different directions, each diving into a different tunnel. I sprinted down my chosen path, heart hammering against my ribs. Behind me, someone screamed – Ruby or Celeste, I couldn't tell through the distortion in the comms.

"Status!" Hermann demanded. "Report!"

"Still moving," Miles responded, his breathing heavy.

"Same," Celeste confirmed.

Silence from Ruby.

"Ruby, report!" Hermann's voice edged toward panic.

Nothing.

My tunnel curved sharply, then ended at a vertical shaft with rungs embedded in the wall. Up or down? The schematics on my wrist display flickered, then stabilized – up would lead toward the airlock.

As I began to climb, a private channel activated in my helmet. Ruby's voice came through, impossibly clear despite the interference we'd been experiencing.

"Musa... I can see it now. I understand what it wants."

"Ruby? Where are you? We'll come get you."

"No." Her voice was eerily calm. "It's beautiful, really. The Void. It's been here all along, waiting for us. Waiting for someone to take home."

"Ruby, listen to me. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real. That thing is affecting your mind."

A soft laugh. "That's what Dennis said too, at first. Before he understood."

The comms went silent.

I reached the top of the shaft and found myself in a corridor I recognized – only fifty meters from the secondary airlock. Hope surged briefly, until I saw the state of the corridor. The walls pulsed with the same organic patterns, more defined now, almost like circulatory systems.

"I've reached level two, section C," I reported. "Near the secondary airlock."

"Hold position," Hermann responded. "Miles and I are converging on your location. Celeste?"

Static answered him.

"Celeste, respond!"

Nothing.

"We've lost Ruby and Celeste," Miles said, his voice tight.

"We don't know that," Hermann snapped. "Stay focused. We reach the airlock, we get to the emergency shuttle, we warn Earth."

I pressed my back against a section of wall that hadn't yet transformed, watching both ends of the corridor. "What about the others?"

"We come back with reinforcements," Hermann replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

Movement caught my eye – a shadow detaching itself from the darkness at the far end of the corridor. Not a person, not quite. Something that approximated human shape without committing to it.

"I've got company," I whispered into the comms.

"Almost to you," Miles responded. "Thirty seconds."

The shadow paused, then began to move toward me – not walking, but flowing across the floor like liquid darkness. As it drew closer, it began to take on more definition. My blood turned to ice as I recognized the shape it was forming.

"Ashlyn?" I whispered.

The thing wearing my wife's face smiled, reaching out with an arm that was slightly too long, fingers that tapered to points.

"Musa." The voice was perfect – her voice. "Come home with me."

"You're not her," I said, raising my utility laser and pointing it at the creature.

The false Ashlyn tilted her head, the movement too fluid, too smooth. "Don't you want to see your child?"

Her stomach distended suddenly, grotesquely, the surface rippling as something moved beneath it.

"Our baby wants to meet you," she said, her smile widening beyond human capability.

A door hissed open to my right. Miles stood there, his utility knife in hand. "Musa! This way!"

I tore my eyes from the nightmare wearing my wife's face and ran for the door. As I passed through, Miles slammed his fist on the emergency seal button. The door slid shut just as the creature lunged, its arm elongating impossibly to reach for me. The closing door severed it at what would have been the elbow.

The severed limb flopped on the floor, then dissolved into the same viscous black substance we'd seen in the command center.

"Jesus," Miles breathed.

"Where's Hermann?" I asked, trying to control my shaking.

"This way." Miles led me down another corridor. "Airlock's just ahead."

Hermann was already there, working on the control panel. He looked up as we approached, relief visible through his visor.

"No sign of the others?"

We shook our heads.

"The shuttle's prepped," he said grimly. "I've initiated the launch sequence remotely."

The airlock cycled open. Beyond it lay the lunar surface, and fifty meters away, the emergency shuttle – our only way back to Earth.

"Wait," Miles said suddenly. "If that thing can impersonate people... how do we know who's really who?"

Hermann and I exchanged glances.

"Musa," Hermann said carefully. "What was the last thing I said to you before we entered the cave?"

I thought back. "You said... 'Remember, we're making history today.'"

Hermann nodded. "Miles, when we trained for this mission, what did you lose during the zero-G simulation?"

Miles hesitated. "My grandfather's watch. It floated out of my pocket."

Hermann seemed satisfied. "My turn. Ask me something."

I considered. "Your son's birthday?"

"March 17th. He just turned ten."

We stood in tense silence for a moment, then Hermann gestured toward the open airlock. "Let's move."

The lunar surface felt different somehow – the dust seemed to shift beneath our boots in patterns that didn't match our footsteps. The Earth hung in the sky above us, beautiful and distant.

"Almost there," Hermann encouraged as we approached the shuttle.

The boarding ramp extended automatically as we neared. Just as we reached it, a transmission broke through our comms – Commander Alex's voice, distorted but recognizable.

"DELTA team, this is Earth Command. We've lost contact with the base. Report status immediately."

Hermann activated his comm. "Command, this is Hermann. Base is compromised. Unknown entity has taken Dennis, Ruby, and Celeste. Request immediate quarantine protocols for returning shuttle."

"Negative, DELTA leader," Commander Alex responded. "Our sensors indicate containment breach. Shuttle return denied until situation clarified."

Miles and I exchanged alarmed glances.

"Command, we need extraction," Hermann insisted. "Whatever this thing is, Earth needs to be warned."

"That's precisely our concern," came the response. "Stand by for further instructions."

The comm went silent.

"They're abandoning us," Miles said incredulously.

Hermann's expression hardened behind his visor. "No. They're protecting Earth. Standard protocol for unknown biological threats."

"So what do we do?" I asked.

Hermann looked from the shuttle to the lunar base, then back to Earth hanging in the black sky.

"We find a way to prove we're not infected," he said finally. "And we find a way to stop this thing before it can spread."

A movement caught my attention – something emerging from the base entrance we'd fled earlier. Three figures in EVA suits, moving with that same wrong fluidity across the lunar surface.

"Hermann," I said quietly. "We've got company."

As the figures drew closer, their features became visible through their visors – Dennis, Ruby, and Celeste, or what had once been them. Their faces were partially transformed, human features merging with something alien and unknowable.

Behind them, the lunar surface itself seemed to ripple, as if something vast was moving just beneath the regolith.

The Voidhowler wasn't just a creature.

It was the Void itself.

And it was waking up.