She knew the airlock wasn’t a weapon. But she was.

The creature had hunted them through the station for days. One by one, her crew had fallen — screaming, silent, or simply gone. When the last transmission crackled into static, she stopped running.

She cleaned her wounds, and walked barefoot into the airlock.
Not to escape — but to lure it.

With trembling fingers, she activated the timer. Sixty seconds.
Then she dropped to her knees, tilted her head back…
…and parted her lips.

The creature hesitated — then took the invitation. Its tendrils caressed her cheek as the inner jaw snapped forward, locking into place.

She felt it seal.
And smiled through the pain.

The doors opened.
The vacuum howled.

And together, they vanished into the stars.