Work Text:
[Tape clicks on]
Felix
Statement of Rowland Stonebridge, regarding the final expedition of the crew of the More Abound.
Statement begins.
Felix (statement)
I'm so hungry.
It won’t stop.
Nothing I can do, nothing I can eat.
It all tastes wrong.
Poisoned and rotten and chalky and wrong.
Have you starved before?
Felt the awful gnawing hunger in the deepest parts of your stomach and known that you could not stop it?
Felt the dread in your heart as you get colder and more exhausted and you cannot know how much longer you can even stay on your feet?
No. Probably not.
Not here in these ivy-covered old walls, where you can feast away on knowledge alone.
You haven’t had to eat to survive.
Had to eat whatever you could, just to make sure you didn’t die.
3 months ago, the More Abound set off on its last journey.
Of course, we didn’t know it would be its last at the time.
My father is- was. Was the captain.
He didn’t like people knowing that though. He thought it’d make it seem like I was only there because of him.
It would be true, of course, but he cared a lot about his image.
Sometimes, even more than his own son.
It was my third or fourth journey, and I was used to it by now.
I’d help the scientists gather samples or sort through files or help the crew of the ship in the various jobs that were needed.
It was... nice enough, though I felt out of my depth in a lot of it.
This trip was the farthest north I'd been, and the temperature quickly plunged. Everything was going… relatively well, I suppose.
The only thing off was Corliss Garside.
He was the senior environmental scientist on the crew, and he was always a strange one.
Apparently, he'd had some sort of accident that left him missing most of his toes, one that he didn’t talk much about, except when he was drinking.
He said he'd gotten lost in the arctic, and then Death had saved him.
He didn’t usually make much sense.
But this time, he was… stranger than usual.
He spent his evenings on the deck, staring out at the horizon with an expression of dread.
I asked him once, what he was looking for.
He laughed, a sharp, awful sound, and said that it was coming soon.
I asked what “it” was.
He just looked at me, with this sense of deep sorrow in his eyes, and said he didn’t know, but that it wouldn’t be good.
He- he said that he was sorry I was here. I was so young.
He said that it wouldn’t matter when it finally arrived.
I told him that if there was something bad approaching, we should tell the others, make sure we could avoid it.
He just laughed again and said there was no avoiding it.
“S’inevitable... nothin’ we can do but wait.”
He spoke flatly, the alcohol slurring his words a bit, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked over the horizon, waiting for whatever was to come.
We made it to our destination, not all the way to the pole but close enough in the northern hemisphere to be freezing.
We continued to sail, attempting to find a good place to lay anchor.
That was when we heard this horrible screeching groan, it seemed almost like it came from all around us as the boat juddered to a stop.
I'd been asleep at the time, but the sound and sudden stop was definitely enough to jolt me awake.
I ran to the top deck, barely remembering to pull on my coat and boots.
Everyone was panicking, and the captain quickly called all hands on deck.
As it turns out, we had hit and partially beached on an ice sheet.
The helmsman swore that he hadn't seen it at all, and everyone seemed in agreement that, no matter how absurd it sounded, the ice sheet has seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
Luckily, the More Abound was well reenforced so we didn't think we were in danger of sinking, at least not anytime soon, and we had plenty of supplies.
A storm picked up almost scarily quickly at that point, and we decided to go below deck.
The captain kept insisting he’d seen something out there though.
The look in his eyes as he insisted; “There's something out there. I know there is."
This mania, eyes wide with fear and a tinge of... something else. Curiosity?
It scared me to no end.
He wouldn’t give any more details on what it was that he’d seen though. An object? A person? A creature?
On our third night bunkering down there, he left.
It wasn't a surprise by that point.
That was the night the storm finally ended.
Whether they're connected, I have no clue.
They can't be. Right?
The next morning, we finally got a good view of the flat plain of ice that we had gotten stuck on.
There was nothing. For miles.
In the far, far distance I could see the tiny dark figures of trees and the pale grey shadows of mountains.
There was no trace of the captain.
He didn't come back.
I still haven't heard anything about him.
The next day came the first of the ominous creaks of the ship that signaled the beginning of it sinking.
Some of the base had been sufficiently bent to allow a small trickle of water to slowly seep into it, and now it was enough to disrupt the buoyancy.
We began to pack what supplies we could to try and hike out.
There were people that lived there, though they’d be far, and we hoped that there would be some way to arrange a rescue.
We couldn't carry much, even despite how many we were, but we hoped it would be enough to make it somewhere we could start hunting or fishing.
We had a rowboat we’d repurposed into a sled but there was still stuff we had to leave behind on the sinking More Abound.
We watched as it filled with water. And then we left.
And so, we walked.
And walked.
And walked.
By the time we made it to the forests, a week and a bit later, we had started rationing.
But the forest was good, because now, we could hunt.
Or at least, that’s what we had thought. But there was nothing.
No animals, large or small, no birds or rabbits.
Nothing.
And so, we got hungrier.
We set up a more permanent camp.
Some of the group would go out hunting each day and would come back with nothing.
Then, one day, they brought back a caribou.
One of the members of the hunting party had died killing it, but finally, finally, we had food.
The caribou only lasted a few days, unsurprising, given the amount of people it had to feed.
We rationed it out as much as we could.
It was delicious though, to finally taste the fresh meat and though there wasn't much, it was far more than we had been able to have over the past few days, our stocks, what little we had, had been dangerously low.
The hunting crew still went out every night, hoping to find more food, though they didn't come back with anything.
The meat ran out, far quicker than we'd hoped, and once more, we were left with barely anything.
They got another one, a few days later.
Another member of the hunting party died killing it, but we were too hungry to care.
The lulls in between getting the caribou were bad, of course, the gnawing hunger creeping in alongside the cold, the sharp pain of having nothing.
But… there was something worse about having the food. Because I knew it wouldn't last.
It was so good, better than I could've ever imagined food to taste, but I knew that soon, we'd run out.
We'd go back to starving.
So it continued, every so often, the shrinking hunting party would go out and find, and then kill, a caribou.
Everytime, an unfortunate party member would die.
I remember that it… did strike me as odd, but I knew very little about caribou and… well.
Less people means more food for those that were left.
Eventually, our numbers were lowered drastically, and then… I was asked to join the next hunt.
I'd never been hunting before, the gun they pressed into my hands was unfamiliar to me, but it had been nearly 4 days since our last caribou ran out, and I was so very hungry.
Walking cautiously through that forest, keeping our ears out for any sounds.
Eventually we were farther than I'd been from the camp in weeks, and I saw where they'd killed other caribou, no snow having fallen to cover the blood spattered on the lower layers.
It was quiet, and the leader of our small group, Clemons, stopped walking and then turned to me.
Then we heard a sound in the bushes.
Turning quickly, we saw the large form of a caribou.
The group lunged into action, guns drawn. It was over so quickly.
The caribou was dead, no fight, and none of us were even injured.
I didn't think that was odd at the time either. I was just too hungry, elated that we had caught something.
That we could finally eat.
It was large too, larger than the other caribou they'd brought back before, but that was good, it meant we could finally feel full.
We brought it back.
I remember as we cut into it, cooking what we ate above what fire we could build.
I remember looking around, realizing just how few of us were left.
I- I wasn't sad for them though.
I was overjoyed.
Horribly, awfully, overjoyed.
It meant that us, the ones who survived, could eat more, could feel more full than ever.
There was something else though, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that there was something wrong.
It was as I took my first bite of my part of the caribou that I snapped out of it.
The caribou tasted different.
Not rotten or bad, not at that point, but… I- I realized that what we had been eating couldn't have been caribou.
I thought about it more, the pieces that didn't add up, the people that died to smaller animals that did not taste like caribou.
I thought of how Clemons smiled at me as he led me into the forest.
Of his shock at seeing the caribou.
The meat seemed to decay in my mouth as I realized why I had been brought into the forest that evening.
I was supposed to be the next caribou.
I looked around, trying to tell if anyone else had realized.
They all acted normal.
Clemons asked if I was alright, if the meat tasted good.
I lied through my rancid mouthful and told him everything was fine.
I could see how blue his skin was now, how sunken his face. How many more teeth he had.
I finished the part of the caribou I had, and went to bed.
I knew that once the real caribou ran out, I would be next. Or… that I would be eating more “caribou”.
It was gone the next day.
And they went hunting once again.
I went with them, though I planned it carefully, and split off away from them.
I hid in the treeline.
And I watched as Clemons turned to the next person. He raised his gun. And he shot.
I watched as Corliss Garside fell, dead. But the awful thing was though he looked terrified, there was a peace to his face.
Like he had accepted his fate.
They descended on him.
That was when I realized our numbers had gotten so low that it was only the core hunting group left.
I watched as they tore open his corpse, their jaws filled to the brim with teeth that were not theirs.
They ripped him apart, his blood and viscera flying, as they shoved as much of him as they could into their too full mouths.
They ate their fill.
But somehow, as they stood, they looked even less satiated than before, their bodies seeming even more gaunt.
They looked at each other, and with a horrifying thought, I realized they were judging how much meat the others had on their bones.
I became horribly aware how much meat I still had left on mine.
I knew that they would probably find me. Smell me from my flesh and my fear.
So instead I ran. I stole some of whatever small rations we had left from the camp and ran.
It all tasted rotten now.
I tried to eat it but I couldn't.
Even what fresh water I could find was repulsive, my throat closing up on instinct when I tried to drink it.
It was only a day and a half away that I found a town.
It was that easy. I still couldn't eat or drink anything, and I was half frozen by the time they got me to a doctor. But it was only a day and a half's travels farther than the camp.
I've told them about the others, though I haven't talked about the “caribou” as I don't think they'd take very kindly to it.
They sent out a rescue, but they haven't found anything yet.
I choked down the food that they insisted I eat.
I'm… back to my house now. My tiny apartment.
I keep thinking about it. About the fact that I've eaten another person. Several other people.
I… I still don't feel bad.
I'm just so hungry.
I was so hungry.
I can't eat anything anymore. It all tastes bad.
Well. No… no, there is something I can eat.
I don't want to though.
I know it will fill me, rid me of this hunger and pain.
I won't.
I can't.
I'm so hungry.
Felix
Statement ends.
[Sigh] Rowland Stonebridge was found dead in his apartment three weeks after giving this statement.
He had apparently chewed off six of his fingers and had a variety of bite marks on his arms.
He seemingly died of a combination of blood loss, starvation and the cold. His apartment was apparently below freezing despite it being the middle of summer.
It's… good, as awful as it is to say, to know the fate of Corliss Garside.
I'm still intrigued by the entity he called Death that appeared to him though. How did it know his fate? Did it play a part in Rowland's?
Other than that, there's also the question of Rowland's father, Captain Vermeil. What happened to him, where did he go?
Unfortunately, there is absolutely nothing apart from Rowland's death that I could find.
The crew were never found, nor was the Captain or the remains of the ship.
There is one thing I could find though, apparently, Rowland kept a journal, and died writing in it.
If i could just find a picture of it, or maybe even a copy of it, I doubt I could get the original thing, there might be more clues-
[Door slams open]
Felix (very surprised)
AH- Wh- Caprice!
[A calming breath, Felix now sounds annoyed] What do you need.
Caprice
Ah- shit sorry f-for startling you! I-I really didn't mean to!
I was just uhh, just comin’ to invite you out to drinks with me, Hyrja and Toa.
T-thought you might wanna get outta the basement for a bit!
Felix
So… you decided to come ask me in the middle of my recording?
It's like the middle of the day Caprice, why are you guys even going out?
Caprice
Wha-? Felix, work ended like half an hour ago.
The o-only reason I'm still here is cause we had a case we were workin’ on.
Felix
Oh.
I…must've lost track of time.
Caprice
Hm.
Well, ei-either way, invite’s open, we're goin’ to that one pretty chill bar just down the road, we're allowed to bring our instruments so me and Toa are gonna jam a bit!
Felix
Y'know what. Yeah sure, I'll join you guys.
Caprice
Really? You never come with us!
Felix
I just have to make sure I don't drink much, don't wanna be hungover tomorrow.
Caprice
What's so i-important about tomorrow?
Felix
Well, for one, it's a work day anyways so there's that, but tomorrow I have that in-person statement I gotta take.
Caprice
Ohhhh yeah, w-with that one really snobby lady right?
Isn't her dad like, a mayor or something?
Felix
Yeah, her, though I don't actually know if her dad is in charge of anything, but he is a politician.
Caprice
Yeah, I getcha, wouldn't wanna be hungover for that either.
We're heading out like. Right now, so c'mon!
Felix
[Chair being pushed back and the sounds of a jacket being put on]
Alrighty, just lemme put my stuff away real quick.
Caprice [further away than before]
Alright! Don't forget about the tape recorder!
Felix
Oh! Righ- [Tape clicks off]