621 AS
This kind of wind meant there was a large storm coming, one that could tear trees from the ground and reshape the sandy landscape. People called them god storms, and it was said that they arose when the spirits of the air and spirits of the water went to war with one another. He had fought leyline pirates during such a storm, a few years after his training was done, decades ago. Hellish was an understatement; they had to rely on their aegis armors' helmets to see through the never-ending walls of water coming down sideways through the skies. Special issue attachments had been handed out to keep the marines from being swept off their feet by the awesome fury of the wind.
In retrospect, he realized his commander had been right. Storming the pirate base during the storm was brilliant, since the pirates were all staying firmly indoors to avoid being carried off by the storm's rage. The voidships and airships the pirates had were gone to avoid being damaged or outright ruined. Seize the base, ambush the returning void ships with the base's defenses. Worked great.
But here, he stowed and lashed everything he could inside the battered escape pod. There was no foundation to hold fast against the storm, meaning the pod would be picked up and carried by the winds to parts unknown. He was determined to be ready when the storm came, and finally having everything packed tight in the egg-shaped escape pod, he donned his aegis armor and waited for the inevitable.
He must have dozed off inside his armor, because he woke with a start when something large collided with the escape pod and rolled it, the rattle and rustling of the stowed goods an undercurrent to the loud clang that had woken him. The castaway leaned over to glance out a port hole, squinting behind the white gold faceplate of his aegis armor. That was strange.
The world around the pod had turned into whirling motes of light and particulate, none of which was big enough to rock the escape pod like it had been. He became aware that the escape pod was actually tumbling through empty space, another strangeness. The castaway thought it would be wise to stay put, and strap in, so he did.
There was another loud clang on the exterior hull. And then another. He glanced through the porthole again and recoiled in horror as a leering white mask with suspicious crimson stains greeted him, the blacker than black pits of the eyes boring straight though him and bringing an immense chill to his soul. The figure behind the mask was shrouded by darkness under a misty cloud-like hood of brilliant crimson, the edges falling away into the emptiness like waterfall mist. The face turned towards the hatch and it sounded as if the outsider was crawling across the exterior of the escape pod.
The castaway fumbled with the straps that held him in as he heard the sound of metal straining, deciding quickly to pull his knife and cut them so he could meet this outlandish invader face to face. He moved to the hatch to throw it open just as wicked talons finally pried the door off and the laughing man filled the hatchway. There was a sound that came from it, a long rattling hiss reminding the castaway of a death rattle.
The two collided in the short span between them, the castaway with his knife and the outsider with taloned fingers, and they tore at each other even as the escape pod shuddered and tumbled from unseen forces. He felt something give under the misty red robe when he struck it with knife and knee, and felt the hideously strong fingers pry away pieces of his aegis armor as warning chimes sounded in his ear. It seemed so all familiar, a sense of deja vu filling his mind even as he fought with the alien entity.
Desperate, he grabbed for the mask with a free hand, grunting with effort as he tried to crush whatever passed for a face. His efforts were rewarded with a low eerie laughter even as the porcelain white mask started to crack. There was a sudden chill in his chest, and he saw the thing had managed to find a gap in the magic of the armor and shove its soul-numbingly cold hand through him. And then it pulled and ripped some vital part of him out, a small thing that reminded him of a distant star as it quietly glimmered in the outsider's wicked fingers. He wondered, as he died, if that was what the soul really looked like.
---
The crew members breathed a sigh of relief as the marine was finally pulled in, taking deep shuddering breaths as they watch the marine secure the hatch. The marine removed his helmet, and turned to face his fellow survivors, who began to scream as they saw hollowed pits of blacker than black had replaced the man's eyes, tears of crimson-red blood coming from the corners as the marine's face twisted into a wicked smile. The hollow man laughed.
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