Work Text:
Jonny d’Ville was not the sort of person to get startled easily. Gunfire? Normal. Creaky stairs? Who even notices that. Serial killer jumping out and stabbing him? Now, that’s just a fun Friday night.
Which is why he was very much not startled when a blurry, unrecognizable thing slid across the window of his stolen ship in the void of space. The thing had long, trailing tendrils and looked almost human, but not quite there in the details. Or, perhaps, all right in the details and wrong somehow in the broader strokes.
Jonny had been off on his own for a bit and had only stolen the ship a few weeks before. Getting some alone time was nice, quiet. His only company was several books Ivy had snuck into his bag and the corpses of the former crew, already butchered and stowed away in the freezer for when he got hungry. Totally alone, finally getting a break from it all.
Until now.
The thing skittered along the hull and made its way back to the window. Using one of its limbs to hold on, it held up a hand and saluted.
Exasperated, Jonny said, “Toy Soldier, what the hell are you doing here?”
Of course, the Toy Soldier couldn’t hear him through the window, but it waved at him. He rolled his eyes and gestured for it to go towards the airlock.
He pulled it in, and it stood unsteadily for a moment adjusting to the artificial gravity.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said. “You rarely wear your hair down.”
It reaches a hand up to scrape some of its hair out of its face. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my hat, old bean!”
“Mm. Well, maybe if you weren’t off interrupting my quiet time…” He was already rustling through a storage bin.
“Oh, I am sorry to interrupt! I was in the area, and I thought I’d say hello!”
Jonny hid his smile. “In the neighborhood? Floating in the depths of space?” Finding what he was looking for, he walked back over to where the Soldier was admiring some blood splatter on the wall. “Here.” He unceremoniously shoved something into its hand.
The Toy Soldier beamed. “A new hat! Thank you, Jonny!” It tucked its hair up into the cap and gave a little twirl, admiring itself in the window reflection. “Doesn’t it look smashing?”
The hat still had bits of its previous owner’s skull clinging to it. “It certainly does.”
“Already bloody too. I feel a bit of blood really adds something to an outfit, don’t you? That little pop!”
“Good perfume too.”
“Right-o!”
“Well, before I toss you back out the airlock, you might as well stay for a bit. You’d only show up again tomorrow if not.” He walked over to the freezer. “I’ve got some meat if you want some.”
“That sounds lovely, old chap!” The Toy Soldier had already made itself at home in a little nest of pillows by the time Jonny looked back.
“There’s a little grill over there — Left, yeah there. Warm that up.” He pulled out a nice piece of what he was pretty sure was the head scientist on the ship and some spices.
The Toy Soldier turned on the grill, enjoying the smoky scent that filled the air. “We should tell ghost stories!” it declared.
Putting the meat on the grill with a satisfying sizzle, Jonny raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s spcampfires. Not grills.”
“We can do whatever we want, old bean. And I know you’ve got some good ghost stories. It was so boring in the void! Come on, Jonny!” It gave him a look that could have been pleading if it hadn’t been the same painted expression it always wore.
He relented. “I do have some good stories I’ve picked up.” He flipped the meat, burning his hands in the process, and couldn’t resist a little grin. “Do you have—”
“Of course I do!” It presented him a plate of cucumber sandwiches, crusts cut off.
“Where did… No. I don’t need to know.” He stuffed one in his mouth. “I meant, do you have any stories yourself? Ghost or otherwise.”
It put a finger to its chin in thought while Jonny scarfed down another cucumber sandwich. “I might have a few!”
Jonny served them each some food. The Toy Soldier didn’t always eat, but it appreciated being included. “Do you want to go first then?”
“No, I want to hear one of your stories, old chap. Something spooky with the right bit of gore!”
“Hmm…” He steepled his fingers and leaned in over the smoking grill. “There’s this forest on a planet with no name. Or rather, there was a forest. Now, it’s nothing but a barren, smoking ruin of a thing. The air on that planet turned to poison and ash and smog long ago. Most of the people living there up and left if they could, died if they couldn’t. But one person, well, he was rich and paranoid, so he built an underground palace in an underground city for him to live in alone. But he was never truly alone, was he?”
The Toy Soldier leaned in in anticipation.
“No, he couldn’t be called alone. After all, what was running all the air filters and keeping his lonely palace spotless? Was it the basic AI he had set up? Certainly that would make the most sense…”
The story stretched into the night as the man was hunted and driven mad by a pair of hidden stowaways who had once worked for him but had had their consciousnesses moved to androids for his convenience long ago. “The palace somehow grew smaller and smaller, and the untended garden, which he hated for its color and tangles, grew larger and larger… This went on until one night, the palace was down to one room: the servant’s quarters, which were about the size of an old broom closet. His screams would have been heard for miles had there been anyone to hear him. Blood pooled out from under the doorway, feeding the twisted garden. The two androids were satisfied. But, they were also alone. Trapped under the dead world with no hope for escape. And every day the city seemed to get smaller and smaller…”
They switched off, and the Toy Soldier told a story about a killer spoctopus that could appear in any container big enough to hold water. Jonny told another one about a dead soldier haunting a museum.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a second person on the ship, Jonny thought.