Captain's Log

Captain Jacob Simmons

Stardate 54712.3

This ship is doomed. There's no other way to say it. I can only hope that these logs survive the horror that is unfolding as I speak, and that Starfleet knows of the terror we face.

Our mission, to explore and contain the unknown, led us to the Thanatos system, where we detected a disturbance in space. As we proceeded in further, our sensors detected a small, unassuming orb of energy, pulsing with a gentle blue light. Seemed harmless enough, as it was only about one meter big, with small, wriggling tendrils. We pursued it, believing it to be a straightforward capture and containment mission. But as we drew closer, a sense of unease settled on us, a feeling that something was profoundly wrong. I should have ordered the ship to turn around there and then, but I would not relent. This was our duty. Our mission.

So, once we were within range, we were able to transport it directly into the containment chamber on deck 5. That's it. Mission accomplished.

And then it happened.

Once it was secure, the entity revealed its true nature, the soft blue light plunging into a dark, malevolent purple. It began to grow, spreading like a fog. Its size expanded exponentially, stretching the limits of our technology. It pulsated with an ominous energy, like a living heart throbbing with unholy power. The containment chamber strained against its monstrous form, as if struggling to contain the impossible.

Its tendrils, once mere appendages, multiplied and elongated, writhing in an obscene dance. The air around it crackled with an electrical charge, sparks of malevolence arcing through the containment chamber. It was as if we had unleashed a primordial force, an ancient evil that had lain dormant for eons. How else to describe a writhing abomination that seems to devour all light around it. Its tendrils slithered with a sickening grace, the otherworldly energy pulsating through them. Each movement was deliberate, as if guided by some sinister intelligence, emanating a palpable sense of dread, as if it drew power from the fear it instilled from those around it.

And then, the horror unfolded. The entity's insidious influence spread throughout the ship, seeping into every crevice, infiltrating our very souls. Its growth was not limited to physical form; its power infected our minds, driving us to madness. The crew members, once my trusted comrades, turned against each other, their eyes gleaming with an unholy fervor.

The first of my bridge crew to succumb was my science officer, Lieutenant Commander T'var, his once calm and analytical mind twisted into a deranged labyrinth of paranoia. His eyes were wild, intense. It was like this entity reached into the Vulcan's mind, flipped a switch, and all the years of training to suppress emotions were gone. He began mumbling to himself. Something about how the situation was illogical. How we were illogical. Our mission was illogical. Our lives were illogical. His life - HIS life - was illogical. He drew his phaser and, before we had a chance to stop him, he'd set it to maximum and entirely vaporized himself.

Next was my helmsman, Ensign Antonia Ramirez. She began to panic, claiming "they" were in her body, under her skin, which she began to tear away at in desperation. We tried to get her to sickbay, but en route, she broke free from us, screaming as she continued to tear at her flesh. Her arms. Her wrists. Her throat. Her face. Her eyes. We could hear her screams of agony as she disappeared down the corridors, driven to madness by the entity's touch.

At that moment, two crew members came around the corridor and grasped my first officer, Commander Northrup. In that instant, it was as if his life force were being drained away. His eyes, once filled with determination, were hollow and lifeless. I took no pleasure in shooting the two that had grabbed him, puppets as they were to the machinations of the entity. What I will take to the grave, more than anything I have described so far, is what he said to me before he died. Northrup, who was only in his late thirties, but now resembled a man in his mid-nineties, grasped my hand. He leaned in close. His voice, once a beacon of command, was reduced to a raspy whisper as he spoke to me.

"It doesn't hurt."

He turned to dust before my eyes.

I... I had to make a choice. To protect the innocent, I had to face the unthinkable.

I returned to the bridge and sealed off sections of the ship, sacrificing those infected by the entity's malevolent influence. The screams of the damned haunt my every waking moment, their accusing eyes etched into my soul. I can still hear their voices, begging for salvation, as I condemned them to a fate worse than death.

Now, I stand here on the bridge of my ship, alone and terrified. The entity threatens to consume us all. Its tendrils reach out, probing the ship's defenses, seeking a way to break free. The walls of the USS Asphodel tremble under its relentless assault, each impact a reminder of our impending doom.

I don't know how much longer I can hold on. The entity's power overwhelms me, its dark influence clawing at my mind, and I... it never touched me, but I fear that I am no longer in control. I have become a pawn in its insidious game, a vessel for its twisted will.

If anyone finds this log, know that the Thanatos system holds an abomination beyond comprehension. Do not seek it out, for it will bring only suffering and despair.

Commendations recommended for Commander Lyle Northrup, Lieutenant Commander T'var, Ensign Antonia Ramirez, and all those who served under me. They deserved a far better fate.

-LOG ENDS-

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