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Simon felt as though his mind was coming undone.
Just like the Quiet Rapture, it was impossible to place when it had exactly begun. Maybe his mind unraveled when he was sent back down again; maybe it was after spotting the first skeleton. Simon didn’t know what caused this undoing, but once it started it didn’t stop.
He began to see things out of the corner of his eye. A dark figure, not quite human, yet vaguely so. Everything – aside from the blood that dripped from the pipes, and the low glow of the camera light – was gray. He existed within the various shades. His surroundings blended together. That was what he blamed the figure on.
Certainly, there was nobody else aboard the vessel with him. He had been alone when the crew sealed him in, and there weren’t exactly any places that someone could hide.
Well, there was one, but Simon had already been in the crawl space to know that there was nothing there. He was alone. At least in the vessel he was. There was… something else outside, swimming through the never ending ocean of blood. Once he thought the creature had clamped its jaws around the vessel, teeth nearly breaking through the metal, but since then it hadn’t caused anymore damage.
Simon was as safe as he could possibly be.
The only threat within the vessel was his own mind now. He began to hear things: the crackle of the radio, roars out in the ocean, the bubble of blood, and then the voices. One of them sounded like the Captain, though slightly different, pitched up a bit more.
Simon slapped his hands over his ears the second time he heard it because it wasn’t real. Nobody else was down here with him, they couldn’t be. If there were people on the other vessel he found then they were long dead.
Simon squeezed his eyes shut as he sat on his broken chair. The voices were back. They screamed about the light, about salvation, but it was all a lie. There was nothing in these depths that would bring him solace.
“Join us, Simon! We will be saved, in the glory of the light. We will ascend and conquer all!” “Shut the fuck up!” Simon bit down on his lip. The pain helped slightly; it reminded him that he was real. If he could feel pain, then he was still alive.
The sensor on his console began to beep, slowly at first, until it got so fast the sound was nearly a constant hum. Simon braced himself for impact even as he darted off in the opposite direction. The sound didn’t stop.
Whatever was out there was still getting closer to him, chasing him. The vessel could only go so fast, and with his dwindling engine life, it was sputtering out every few minutes. “C’mon.” Simon gritted his teeth. If he could just get some distance between himself and the creature he could maneuver his way back to safety, maybe down one of the tunnels.
He just hoped there wasn’t alien shit down there; he’d dealt with enough of that.
Something thick dripped down onto his hand. Simon could only spare a glance. A fat drop of blood streamed down his thumb. His skin burned beneath it. Had the blood always done that, or was the pain just another false sensation that his mind conjured up? There was a guttural sound from the back of the vessel, and Simon had to remind himself that he was still in imminent danger.
Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. He just wanted to live, was that too much to ask? It didn’t matter anymore if he got his freedom or not. Simon could spend the rest of his days in a dirty prison cell, but that would be better than dying alone at the bottom of an ocean of blood because of some weird fucking alien creature that he couldn’t even see properly.
The engine let out a groan. Simon slammed his hand down on the console. “Just work for once, dammnit!”
A tear dripped down his face. He wasn’t going to make it. No matter how hard he pushed, whatever was behind him would catch him. A hollow sensation filled Simon’s chest. After everything he’d done in the depths to try to save himself, it was all for naught.
Simon closed his eyes and took one final breath. He thought of his brothers, those he’d hopefully be reunited with if the universe was kind enough to grant him an afterlife. At least he died trying to do good. Simon could rest easy knowing that.
He braced for impact.
***
The first thing Simon saw was a blinding white light. He’d heard stories of people seeing light just as they were about to die; it was the sign that someone was crossing over. He didn’t think, however, that people usually heard the steady beep of a heart monitor when they died.
Simon blinked a few times to try to get his bearings. The more he did, the more he recognized. For one, it didn’t seem like he was actually dead. Second, he wasn’t in the Iron Lung anymore. Instead, he was in a light gray med room with fluorescent lighting that made him squint after so long being in darkness.
Simon’s mouth felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton and his throat was as coarse as sand. He tried to sit up, but found he was too weak to do so. His breath was shallow, and every inhale shot pain across his torso.
Miraculously, he kept his eyes open.
A door creaked and the tap of footsteps stole his attention. Through the door walked the Captain. She looked fine. Wait, that wasn’t right. She’d told him about the damage he’d done with the camera, how she’d grown plenty of tumors, but the Captain didn’t look like she’d suffered at all. In fact, she seemed in perfect health. There was even a curt smile on her face.
“Glad to see that you’re awake, Simon.”
Simon frowned. “You don’t call me that.” He couldn’t even remember giving the Captain his name. Maybe the prison had. Simon wasn’t sure about the logistics of his entrapment.
“You’ve served your penance so ‘Convict’ seems unfitting now.” She took a seat in a metal chair beside him. “I’m here to debrief you on what you’ve experienced today.”
Simon stilled. “Today?” That wasn’t right either. He’d spent days in the depths, possible weeks. He’d felt his hunger grow and grow, his thirst begging to be quelled – that couldn’t have happened only in a few hours.
The Captain gave a short nod. “Yes. Today you were part of experiment SM-13, a simulated diving experience to understand how the human body reacts to isolation in a high stress, high intensity, situation.”
“No.” Simon’s voice cracked. “No, that was not a fucking experiment.”
“I think I’d know more about that than you’d know, Simon.” The Captain’s voice was horrifically calm, like she’d done this sort of thing before. “You’ve given us great insight into the human psyche, demonstrating to what lengths a person will go to for their own self-interest.”
Simon’s lip trembled. “It couldn’t have been fake you’re lying, I saw things, I heard them, I took photo’s, I–”
“Participated in a blind experiment that was crafted to engage each one of your senses in a meticulous manner,” the Captain interjected. “And for your compensation you’ll be allowed to walk out of here instead of being hauled back to a jail cell. Doesn’t sound too bad now, does it?”
“You piece of shit-” Simon tried to raise his arms, to fight his way out, but he found them strapped down. No matter how hard he pulled, he was stuck.
The Captain glanced down at the restraints. “Yeah, you kept thrashing in your sleep. We gave you soft restraints so you wouldn’t be a harm to yourself.”
“You’re a harm to me.” Simon once again tried to get out of his cuffs, but whatever they were made out of was far stronger than it appeared. Fear coursed through his veins. Simon had traded one prison for another.
The Captain said and stood once more. She walked across the room to where an IV drip was. “Perhaps you need a bit more rest before we get into this.”
“What are you doing?” Simon’s eyes shot open.
The Captain meddled with the IV. “You were put on a mild sedative.” She glanced at him. “Clearly you need another dose.”
Simon tried to argue, but it didn’t take long until his eyes began to droop once more. He attempted to move his mouth, to tell her to stop whatever she was doing, but it was impossible to do. Whatever was in the IV wasn’t a mild sedative.
His mind began to swirl once again.
An experiment. Everything was a fucking experiment. All the pain he’d gone through. All the mental torment. All of it was fake, pretend, only a step above a game.
Simon was nothing but their little plaything.