Sarah and Devlin are infected

Sarah half-staggered, half-fell through the hatch into the medbay, slamming her hand against the wall to keep from crumpling completely.

The lights inside flickered fitfully, casting everything in a sickly yellow hue. Medical beds were bolted to the floor, most of them empty, the equipment dark or malfunctioning. The air smelled sharp — antiseptic, sweat, and something richer, muskier underneath.

And then she saw him.

Devlin.

He sat hunched on the edge of a gurney, head hanging low between his knees, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His jumpsuit was unzipped halfway down, baring his heaving chest, the fabric clinging to his skin.

At the sound of her entrance, he lifted his head — and Sarah’s breath caught.

His pupils were blown wide, almost swallowing the blue of his irises. His lips were parted, panting softly, and his body trembled in a way she recognized far too well.

He was hard.

Obscenely so, the outline of his cock pressing against the inside of his half-undone suit, twitching visibly with every beat of his racing heart.

For one long, awful moment, they just stared at each other.

Both of them breathing hard.

Both of them ruined.

Recognition flickered in Devlin’s eyes — recognition and shame.

"You too?" he rasped, voice broken, ****.

Sarah nodded stiffly, hugging herself, her hands clenching into white-knuckled fists to stop herself from reaching for him.

"I can't—" Devlin groaned, clutching at his head. "It won’t stop. It’s like something’s crawling inside me, pushing every thought out except—"

He broke off, shuddering violently.

Sarah could feel it too — the ever-present throb between her legs growing stronger, hotter, a cruel, endless pressure that refused to break. Her nipples ached, hypersensitive points of agony beneath the fabric of her jumpsuit.

Every instinct screamed at her to cross the room.

To straddle Devlin’s lap.

To ride him until the hunger inside her was finally, finally satisfied.

But somewhere deep inside, the real Sarah — the one who had fought through nightmares, through body horror and the ship's whispered lies — curled her trembling hands into fists and refused to move.

"We need—" she croaked, voice raw. "We need to fix this. Before it’s too late."

Devlin nodded, but his gaze kept slipping down her body, lingering hungrily on the way her jumpsuit clung to her heaving breasts, the damp line spreading between her thighs.

He was losing the battle.

So am I.

Sarah staggered toward one of the medical consoles, slapping at the controls with trembling fingers. The screen flickered to life, showing distorted biometric readings — heart rates skyrocketed, hormone levels spiking into inhuman ranges, neurological activity blaring in red warning alerts.

We’re being changed, she realized.

Not just physically.

Rewired.

The system flagged a term in angry red letters: Foreign Parasite Activity Detected.

Sarah’s stomach twisted violently.

It wasn’t just psychological corruption.

It was something alive inside them — something using their own pleasure responses to break them down.

Devlin slid off the gurney, staggering toward her, eyes wild, his arousal straining against his ruined jumpsuit.

"Sarah—" he gasped. "I can't—I need—"

She whirled on him, leveling her pistol — the one Ward had given her.

"Stay back," she rasped, though her body screamed in betrayal, aching to close the distance instead.

Devlin froze, trembling, his whole body a live wire of need and despair.

A soft chime rang from the console behind her, and new instructions scrolled across the cracked screen:

HOST PARASITE ACTIVITY CRITICAL.

MUTUAL PHYSICAL RELEASE ADVISED TO STABILIZE HOSTS.

FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN IRREVERSIBLE NEURAL OVERRIDE.

Sarah stared at the words, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs.

It’s a trap.

It has to be.

But the burning between her legs — the ****, hollow ache inside her — screamed that the console was right.

She locked eyes with Devlin.

Both of them poised at the edge of madness.

Both of them breaking.

And somewhere deep in the ship’s walls, a slow, predatory heartbeat answered their need, pulsing louder, closer, as if it was waiting for them to fall into each other’s arms and seal their fates forever.