Post 4 - Phantom Faces at the Window

Posted on Tue Feb 2nd, 2021 @ 3:06am by Ensign Ezra Gonzalez

Mission: The Waiting Game
Location: Risa
Timeline: Present - a few days into shore leave

Ezra sat slumped in his Risian hotel bed, his back against the headboard, hands folded in his lap, eyes bleary and glazed over as he stared into space.

"Computer," he whispered hoarsely, "Record a letter for Mary Gonzalez. San Francisco, Earth." The computer chimed an acknowledgement. "Begin recording."

His mouth opened and closed several times, but he couldn't convince it to produce any sound. His eyes drifted down to his hands as he slowly started to wring them, applying gentle pressure as he ran his fingers over each palm and knuckle. Though they were smooth and clean, and had been for days now, it felt like only moments ago that they were grimy and bloody and trembling. Though the bed was soft and warm and comfortable, it felt like only moments ago that he had been sprawled out on the cold, hard cot in the Vidiian cell, or on the colder, harder floor.

He flinched back to the present as the computer chirped, reminding him that it was still waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat and forced himself to speak.

"Hi...Mom..."

He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed hard as his voice faltered. Then he took a deep breath and started again.

"Hi, Mom. We made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. Barely. Well...most of us did, anyway...Adelphi took a lot of damage and...and a lot of people got hurt"

He paused, taking several shaky breaths, then continued.

"Mom...the away team I was with...we got captured. The Vidiians found us. They threw us into a prison cell. I don't even know how long we were there, but...those were some of the worst days of my life, Mom. Worse than the meltdowns I had as a kid. Maybe even worse than Mars, when Dad and Miguel died...and I didn't think anything could be worse than Mars."

He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, then tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

"I...haven't slept much in the last few weeks...God, I don't even know what day of the week it is anymore. I haven't slept because I just...can't. I'll never be able to get them out of my head, Mom. I keep hearing their slurred voices. I keep seeing their rotting faces. Their breath smelled like blood, and their hands were slimy when they touched us."

He shuddered and swallowed hard again.

"But the jailer was the worst of all of them. He was big, and he was mean, and he would lash out whenever one of us tried to talk. I still have bruises...I can't sleep! I feel tired and sick and I can't sleep! I can't sleep because every time I try, I SEE him! I see him staring at me like a hungry animal, wanting to eat me alive. I know I should go to therapy, I know I should go to a doctor to get a sedative, but I can't! I haven't left my room in three days, Mom!"

Ezra collapsed in on himself, his forehead aching as it dropped down onto his knees. He sat there for a long time, wanting to cry, but nothing came.

"Maybe Abuela was right," he croaked, lifting his head again. "Maybe I don't have what it takes to be in Starfleet. Maybe I should have quit a long time ago. Gone back home. Gotten a job at a library or a museum or something. Done something safe with my life...but what would Dad have thought if I did that? What would you think?"

He trailed off, leaving the question hanging over him like a weight held up by a rope that was about to break. He stared at his knees for another long moment, then took a deep breath and changed the subject without warning, forcing so much optimism into his voice that he was worried it might break.

"So, like I was saying, we made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. Now we're taking shore leave on Risa, waiting for Captain Kodak to give us some news about what will happen with our ship. In the meantime, there's lots of things to do here. A couple of people have told me about a get-together happening pretty soon. I don't know what it's for, though. I don't really want to go...but some part of me is telling me I should. Tell everyone I said hi! Hope to talk to you soon. Ezzie."

"Computer, send. No! Wait, NO!" he shouted, suddenly panicked. "Delete it! Delete everything!" The computer chirped an affirmative. "Message deleted." Ezra exhaled and leaned his head back again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the horga'hn sitting on his bedside table. In his peripheral vision, the statue suddenly seemed to twist and contort itself into a hideous face, the jailer's face, leering out at him. "We just wanted you to heeelllp usss," it hissed. Ezra let out a terrified yelp and instinctively swatted at the statue, sending it hurtling across the room to clatter against the opposite wall.

There would be no escaping that face.