Hello again, Story Club members.

I'm Ivy, your ghostly host with the most and keeper of the strangest,

spookiest tales on Earth.

Today is another Ivy's chilling tale.

This soaring tale, story club members, might make you not want to shoot for the virtual stars.

It's one I call rickety rocket.

Three, two, one, launch.

The force of the rocket lifting off knocked Hillary Densmore for a loop.

The G force, as the vessel escaped the planet's gravity and soared into the sparkly

night field of space pushed her back in the seat that was molded to her space suit-en-cased

form. Even though she knew it was only a virtual simulation of space travel, it felt real.

The game was called rickety rocket, and the object was to reach the orbit moon of the planet without breaking into a million pieces.

The game was the first of its kind, a prototype, and Hillary had been chosen out of 10,000 potential participants to test drive the eponymous Star Missile.

For all her 11 years, Hillary dreamed of being an astronaut.

She grew up watching videos of rocket

launches and shuttlecraft missions and of life on the International Space Station. The idea of

eventually living off-world appealed to her. She flicked the controls masterfully, the rocket

shuddering as it left the gravitational pull of the planet and hurled toward the lonely moon.

But this wasn't Earth, and she wasn't heading toward the familiar pale moon in the night sky.

No, this moon was called Xanthar, which was the 12th moon of the hostile jungle planet, Orinthica.

Not only was rickety rocket coming apart, but some crab-like creatures called Decapods had hitched a ride onto her ship.

Though they were only each a half meter in length, they had incredibly sharp talons that could shear through the metal hall of the vessel.

...