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OBD Convo #58: We are the Heroes of Justice

Xhominid The Apex

Xhominid The Apex

Luminous
V.I.P. Member
Saber Class Servant
Shut up and take my money!
The Almighty
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First time making an OBD Convo, have at it!
 


Just got done watching the 1992 Coppola Dracula, for the first time shockingly because I always put it off due to wanting to be a completionist and see the other versions of the novel beforehand, so feels fitting to post this as my first comment for the new thread.
 
Been working on a sort of horror video game character. something along the lines of shit like devil mario, sonic.exe, or ben drowned except without the whole "character is taken over by another entity thing.

I only have the intro written as I suck at writing shit. Been trying to really get the "oh shit" factor down correctly and heres what I got so far. Its from the perspective of a survivor.

The Hunter is No More​

Her name once carried hope. A beacon across the stars, a warrior whose presence alone sent tyrants and monsters into the abyss. Samus Aran. The Hunter. Protector of the galaxy. Entrusted One.

Lady.

That name means nothing now.

What returned from that planet was not Samus.

It started slow. Subtle. We thought she was just exhausted, that she needed time to recover. She spoke less—barely at all. She stopped leaving her suit. And then, at some point, we stopped noticing when she was near.

No footsteps. No breath. No presence.

We ran tests in secret, afraid of what we might find. But the results told us nothing. She was fine. Physically.

Then, one day, in the middle of the loading bay, she put on her suit. No warning. No reason.

And then she looked at us.

Her visor was black. Not dim, not dark—black. A void where her face should be, swallowing all light. The air around her twisted, wrong, as if space itself was pulling away. The weight of her presence crushed the room, an invisible pressure that made my ears ring, my skull ache.

She did not speak. She did not move. She did not breathe.

And then she started killing.

It wasn’t a battle. A battle suggests resistance. There was none. She moved with a speed and force we had never seen—inhuman, effortless, unstoppable. Weapons, barriers, escape routes—it didn’t matter. The station was gone in minutes. So was everyone inside.

Except me.

I don’t know why I survived. Maybe she didn’t notice me. Maybe she didn’t care. I don’t know what’s worse. I barely made it off the station before it exploded, left adrift until a Federation scout ship found me.

They called it an “unforeseen consequence.” A side effect of always relying on Samus. They think she’s out there, somewhere, evolving into something beyond our comprehension.

They’re wrong.

She’s not out there. She’s everywhere.

The Space Pirates call her an “apocalypse made flesh.” Five planets have already fallen, entire colonies erased, and those are just the ones we know about.

There are no distress signals. No survivors.

Only silence.

And the blackened remains of worlds where the Hunter once walked.
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