Moonstruck

He was supposed to be the first man to walk on the moon. He had trained for years, endured countless simulations, and dreamed of this moment since he was a kid. But everything went wrong as soon as they landed.

The lunar module malfunctioned and exploded, killing his two crewmates and leaving him stranded on the barren surface. He barely managed to escape with his spacesuit and a backpack of supplies. He had no way to contact Earth, no hope of rescue, and no idea how long he could survive.

He decided to make the best of his situation and explore the moon as much as he could. He had a camera, a flag, and some scientific instruments. He wanted to leave some mark of his presence, some evidence of his achievement. He also wanted to distract himself from the horror of his fate.

He walked for hours, following the craters and hills, marveling at the stark beauty of the lunar landscape. He felt a strange mix of awe and loneliness, wonder and despair. He wished he could share this experience with someone, anyone.

He was about to plant his flag on a large boulder when he heard a noise. It sounded like a hiss, a screech, a growl. He turned around and saw something that made his blood run cold.

It was a creature; unlike anything he had ever seen. It had eight legs, covered with spines and claws. It had a round body, covered with scales and eyes. It had a mouth full of teeth, dripping with venom. It was about the size of a dog, but much more terrifying.