The Devil You Know

[Inferno]

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There was a tense air in the cabin of the Little Box. A party, they claimed, but this did not feel like the ride to any celebration. The pilot felt no urge for conversation, an absence of motivation to exchange the usual banter shared amongst himself and the Big Box. Whatever chatter heard from the headset was more akin to static, than of any comprehensible exchange of words.

He saw all the gifts and other being loaded into the Big Box and felt a characteristic tingle in their body, but the feeling was gone. The pilot shifted in the uncomfortable chair. Something else was tugging at him from the inside of his own skin, but what it was eluded understanding. Perhaps it was social anxiety, maybe it was the fear of being intercepted by a sudden naval patrol, or maybe it was a lack of oxygen in the cabin. All that was known, was the frozen nebula felt colder than usual. His gaze panned, looking towards the space on the other side of the glass, attempting to locate one of the smaller bombers that accompanied them.

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