"Did you get rid of the monster, daddy?"

John waved his arms around in his daughter's walk-in closet and cried, "Away with you, monster! Go and bother someone else's kid!"

Behind him, Sophie giggled. "Don't say that, daddy! He shouldn't bother anyone!"

John put his hand over his mouth in mock-shock. "Oh, shoot! Why didn't you say so sooner? Now he's off raising havoc in some other kid's bedroom."

Sophie laughed, as her dad raised his hands above his head like claws, pulled a silly face and roared. But when he sat down on the bed beside her, she still peeked over his shoulder towards the closed door. "You did get rid of him, didn't you, daddy? I don't want him here. I don't like the monster."

"He's all gone, sweetheart, don't you worry. Daddy's chased him off for you." John tucked his only child into her bed, wrapping the blanket around her. When she finally lay quietly, looking up at him through the half-dark of the nightlight, his heart ached. "Listen, sweetheart. Daddy's got to go off to work for a little while, okay?"

Her brow furrowed. "Will you be late for dinner tomorrow?"

John let out a chuckle. "I'll have to go on a little trip for work. I'll be back in two weeks, sweetheart."

"Two weeks?" Sophie exclaimed. "But you'll miss my birthday!"

"I know." He hoped his daughter wouldn't see the tears that burned behind his eyes. He'd never missed her birthday before, and he'd promised himself he never would. "I know. But I'll make it up to you when I get back, okay? In fact, I'll bring you back a souvenir."

The disappointment made way for wonder. "A souvenir? What kind of souvenir?"

"I don't know yet. It'll be a surprise." John smiled, stroking the brown hair our of her face. She looked so much like her mother. The same big, blue eyes. The same tip-tilted nose. "See you soon, sweetheart, okay?"

"Okay, daddy. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." As he placed a kiss on Sophie's forehead, he couldn't help but feel his chest tighten. Don't be ridiculous, he scolded himself. It's only two weeks. She's six now. She can handle it.

Yet he stood in the hallway for a long time, staring through the gap of the door, watching his beloved daughter fall asleep under the soft glow of the nightlight.

"Did you manage to get her to sleep?" Laura asked when he made his way back down the stairs to join her on the sofa.

"Yeah, she was fine. I told her about that work trip, too."

She nodded. "Thank you. I would've hated to have to tell her after you were already gone. How did she take it?"

"Fine." He shrugged. "After I bribed her with souvenirs."

Laura laughed, a melodious sound that still made his heart pick up, even after seven years of marriage. "She takes after her father," she teased.

John smiled, leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his wife. "I'm going to miss you," he whispered against her soft hair. "Both of you."

"You don't have to go," she said. "Just stay. You'll find another job soon enough."

"You know that's not an option, Laura," John sighed. "We need the money. Without it, we can't send Sophie to school next year."

Laura didn't respond. They both knew he was right; that's why he'd taken the job in the first place. But they both hated it.

***

Space travel was safe. That's what they said, anyway. Ever since the first few test flights with non-astronaut passengers in the early 2020s, they'd grown into a proper business. Trips to outer space just for fun, as a vacation, were slowly being normalised. Every year such trips became cheaper, which opened it up to a larger public, though it was still only for the rich. John sure as hell could never pay that much money.

What he could do, however, was join the trip as staff. It wasn't exactly a fun job. Yes, you got to see outer space, but you also had to be a servant to some smug rich people 24/7 for two weeks straight. Whatever they asked for, you had to go and arrange it for them. Cleaning up after them every second of every day. A shit job, but it paid well. And that was the only reason John was here, at the space station, looking up at the shuttle that would take him up into nothingness.

"You can go inside now, John." The voice of his supervisor was soft. She knew his situation. She knew he hated leaving his family behind. With a hand on his shoulder, she added, "Two weeks. It'll fly by, you'll see."

"You're sure it's safe, right?"

The smile on his supervisor's face told him it was a dumb question, but she'd humour him anyway. "This shuttle has taken dozens of space tourists up before today. It'll be fine."

"What about that asteroid rain?"

"You'll go around it." She smiled, red-painted lips curling over her pointy teeth. "Honestly, John. Stop worrying and get yourself into that shuttle."

She wasn't wrong. It was silly of him to think it wasn't safe. With how big space travel was becoming recently, there was no way they wouldn't take all the necessary precautions. Still, it didn't feel right to John. Humans weren't supposed to go into space. Their home was here, on earth. But the rest of humankind didn't seem to agree with him on that. In fact, it was highly likely that Sophie would grow up thinking space travel was normal. It was highly likely that she'd be a space tourist one day.

With one last glance over his shoulder, towards the red-bricked two-story building from which the earth-team would coordinate the flight, John heaved his bag over his shoulder and climbed up the metal steps into the shuttle. Each clang of his feet against the metal made him feel more homesick. Two weeks, he told himself. Two weeks and I can wrap them in my arms again.

These were the thoughts that helped him force his feet towards the staff's sleeping quarters to dump his bag. These were the thoughts that got him through readying the Viewing Dome for their guests; from cleaning the windows through which they'd look out into space, to setting the tables and getting the tea ready. In the end, this shuttle was nothing more than a glorified restaurant slash hotel. A zero-gravity one, that is. The space suits were bulky and annoying to work in, but he'd manage.

When everything was ready, the pilot came into the Dome. He was an old man, with a rough grey beard and tired eyes. "Are you John?" When he nodded in response, the pilot gestured at himself and continued, "Arthur. You'd better get yourself strapped in. The guests will arrive soon, and countdown will start soon after."

"Will do. Thanks, Captain."

John put his cleaning things in the closet, everything fastened for launch, then made his way back to the staff's sleeping quarters. Aside from the handful of beds (closed off, to be able to simulate gravity inside them), which were bolted to the floor, there were also the booths they had to strap themselves into for launch. They were called booths, but they looked more like pods; closed up in a tiny space. The others were already getting into their booth; the cook, two maintenance people and the front desk person who kept everything organised. They nodded at him.

John sat himself into the final booth and fumbled with the belts.

"Need some help?" The cook, a woman with short, red hair and dimples in her cheeks, smiled at him. He only knew she was the cook because she was already wearing her uniform. The cook had a different colour space suit than the cleaner or the maintenance people. "Your first trip?"

"Yeah." John chuckled. "That obvious, huh?"

"You get used to it quickly. Here." She performed some kind of magic on the belts, and within seconds, John was strapped in just as tightly as he had been during training the previous week.

He sighed. "I gotta practice that. Well, thanks anyway."

The woman nodded, then went back to her own seat. As she fixed her own belts, a robotic female voice resounded through the room. "Please get ready for take-off. This shuttle will launch in ten minutes."

They waited in silence for the countdown. As he waited, the faces of his wife and child slipped into his mind. He stuck his hand into his chest pocket and took out the little old-school photograph that he kept there. It showed Laura and Sophie playing in the backyard, smiling up at the camera. At him. Sophie was only four years old in this picture. He sighed. She would already be seven by the time he came back. His little girl, seven years old. How did time fly by so fast? Would she still be his little girl when he came back? Would she still want him to tuck her in at night? To chase away the monster in the closet?

Before he knew it, the robotic voice returned. "Launching in... Ten... Nine... Eight..."

John pushed the photo back into his pocket, before grabbing hold of the belts across his chest. He held his breath.

"Three... Two... One..."

Something roared deafeningly below their feet, and the shuttle moved. Through the window, John could see clouds of smoke rolling up from the exhaust. The shuttle shook uncontrollably as it lifted slowly off the ground and into the air. John closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, waiting for this horrible moment to be over. An enormous force sent them hurling through the air, towards the vast emptiness of outer space.

And then, all of a sudden, the shaking stopped. John opened his eyes and emitted a sigh of relief. They must've left the earth's atmosphere; once the shuttle left the enveloping gasses, it would reach a sort of equilibrium, causing the trembling to stop. He was just about to start unfastening his belts when the cook said, "Something's wrong."

There was something in her voice that made him freeze.

"We've left the atmosphere, but still..." the female maintenance person agreed. "It's like the shuttle doesn't move at all anymore."

The words had barely left her mouth, when the alarm went off. The glaring red light almost blinded him, while the siren deafened him. It took him a few seconds to get used to it, before he could look around again. The others hadn't moved. That was protocol; they were to stay in their booths until it was safe to come out. The pilot and his crew would fix this.

They'll fix this.

They will.

John heard the screams before his brain had processed that something had happened. An explosion roared somewhere in the distance. At the same time, the shuttle jolted, as if it had just shot forward -

No, not forward. Sideways. But how was that even possible?

Leaning forward, John tried to get a good look out of the window. All he saw was blackness, which was to be expected.

"What was that?" The cook's voice trembled.

John had seen it, too. Something moved out there. Something huge.

The monster in the closet.

Before he had a chance to think it through, there was an earsplitting bang. Much closer this time. Then another, as a long, black tendril crashed through the window. There was more screaming, and this time John realised it came from his own mouth. Filled with horror, he stared at the tendril, as it seemingly looked around through the room. His heart smashed against his rib cage as he glanced back and forth between the tendril and the window it had smashed. It dawned on him that the only reason they weren't dead yet, was because the launching pods were filled with oxygen and kept the pressure on a normal level.

But how many seconds would that save them?

It was his daughter, his sweet little Sophie, who filled his mind as the black tendril shot straight towards him. Sophie, who always counted on him to get rid of monsters. Well, this was one monster he couldn't chase away. As the tendril shot towards his face, he knew she'd have to battle her own monsters from now on.

***

"John? JOHN!"

Everything was black. His body felt heavy. His head pounded. A groan escaped him.

"Oh my God. The button... Where's that bloody button?"

That voice... He recognised it. It triggered something deep inside his brain.

"Mr Edwards, how are you feeling? Can you open your eyes for me?"

It was as if his body responded automatically. His eyelids opened and showed him a bright white room, with two humans hanging over him. One of them he recognised.

Laura.

"Welcome back, Mr Edwards," smiled the other human, a dark-skinned woman in scrubs, with a bright smile on her face. She immediately started fussing about, checking the machines, shining a light into his eyes.

Laura, on the other hand, merely stared at him, with tears filling her eyes.

"Alright, you seem to be in fine condition. How are you feeling?" the nurse asked again.

"Good." The word came automatically, though his voice cracked with disuse.

"Yeah? That's good to hear!" said the nurse. "Are you experiencing any pain?"

"My head," he muttered. It still pounded. Not just that, there was something else bothering him. Hunger. Like he hadn't eaten in a very long time.

"Yes, I thought it might hurt a little. Don't worry, it's healing. We'll give you some pain killers, alright? One more thing... Can you remember what happened?"

John furrowed his brows, digging into his memory. Images flashed by, of a little girl he tucked in, of a hug with the woman standing teary-eyed in front of him, of a shuttle. And then... Nothing. Just darkness and hunger. He shook his head.

"Is that... Is that normal?" Laura's voice trembled.

"Considering the head trauma, I'm not surprised. We'll have to give him a little while, see if it comes back. Don't worry too much. He woke up, he's moving, he's talking. Those are great signs. I think your husband will be alright, Mrs Edwards."

"Thank you," Laura whispered.

The nurse disappeared, and Laura sat down on the side of his bed. She lay a hand on his arm, which he couldn't take his eyes off. He was so hungry...

"When they told me they'd lost contact with the shuttle, I thought I'd lost you," she whispered. "They don't know what happened. And then they said it had crashed back down to earth, and I thought..."

The shuttle... There had been something in the darkness. Something big... What was it?

Laura shook her head. "I can't believe you survived. All of you."

A tendril! That's what it was. He'd seen a tendril. A monster.

No. Not a monster. His creator.

Laura leaned over him and touched his cheek. He could see the blood pulsing in the veins of her wrist. He was so hungry.

"Sophie is going to be so happy to see you. She missed her daddy."

Sophie. Another memory pulled from the back of his brain. His daughter. He knew what she looked like. He even remembered the feelings the little girl had elicited in him before. But those feelings did not surface now. Now, all he could think was, I wonder what she tastes like.

John licked his lips. His creator had put him back on this planet for a reason, and he would fulfill it. He wasn't the man these humans thought he was. Not anymore.

In fact, he wasn't even a man anymore.

Round 3.2

Prompt: Write a sci-fi story based on one of the songs from the list. My choice: Elton John - Rocket Man. The specific lyrics this story was based on, are:

I miss the earth so much, I miss my wife

I think it's gonna be a long long time till touch down brings me round again

I'm not the man they think I am at home

Word count: 2623