Chapter Text
Simon has never been good with kids.
He never had much of an opportunity to interact with them on Eden, and the few he did come across typically ran away in fear. Nurturing is not something The Butcher was ever designed to do.
He may have liked to, at one point. There may have been a brief period of time where the thought of having a child crossed Simon’s mind. He can’t remember now.
It would have been an unattainable fantasy even if it was something he wanted. Father never would have allowed it.
There are a lot of things Simon wishes he had done before being sentenced.
The SM-13 rumbles again, and he curses under his breath.
It’s different from the previous tremors. Where the ones from before made it clear something was grabbing the hull or shifting around on the outside, this one almost feels like the sub is being ripped apart from the inside. The hull groans like it’s breathing its last breath.
Is the pressure of the blood ocean too much? Is the SM-13 finally caving in on itself?
Please no, please no, please no-
The ceiling opens up.
Please let me live-
Simon barely has time to see his life flash before his eyes before he realizes it’s not blood he sees above him, but an endless expanse of darkness.
It hurts. Looking into the darkness hurts in a way Simon has never hurt before. It devours him from the inside out, every part of his body screaming that this is wrong, wrong, wrong, but he can’t look away. He wishes he could look away. He’d do anything to be able to look away.
Simon has felt terror before. He had been feeling terror all throughout his involuntary expedition. He has never felt terror like this.
Staring into the darkness feels like staring into the cold eyes of death itself.
Death has not come to take him, though. At least not quite yet. Simon isn’t sure how he knows this, but he does. He wants to live so badly, and it seems death has taken pity on him for now.
Simon has never been good with kids.
When a tiny girl is dropped from the darkness and lands unceremoniously on her behind, Simon doesn’t think he can be blamed for grabbing his knife and pressing himself against the wall.
“Owie…” the girl mutters. She has a soft voice and a strong accent, though Simon would never be able to tell what kind. “That hurt.”
She stands up slowly, and looks around in confusion. Simon remains petrified against the wall. His hand trembles as it holds the knife in a death grip.
The darkness slowly collapses in on itself, until the submarine’s ceiling is all that’s left behind.
Death has receded. Death has given Simon a little more time, and all it has left behind is an innocent-looking child.
The girl waves softly. Simon grips his knife harder.
“Hello mister. Are you dead too?”
How.
One of the oxygen lights flickers. The SM-13’s motors whir. Condensation drips from the pipes in the ceiling.
Simon is suddenly very, very aware of how quiet it is down here.
The first thing he registers is how strange her clothes are. She wears a long coat, tiny boots, a child-sized backpack, and a circular hat. They’re cleaner and more intact than any form of fabric Simon has ever seen. Where could she possibly have gotten clothes like this?
The child’s wide eyes blink at Simon from under a curtain of tangled, dark brown hair.
“HEY!” The Convict screams. “COI FUCKERS!”
The radio crackles as it comes to life.
“What is it, Convict?” The director sounds tired of him. Like he fucking asked for this.
“You have to believe me,” he grits out. “I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a kid down here. In my sub. I- I don’t know how, believe me, I wish I knew how, but-”
“Silence!” she exclaims. Simon clenches his fists. “We don’t have time for your inane ramblings! I don’t know what you think you’ll accomplish by telling ridiculous lies, but you must complete this mission! This is-”
“Bigger than me, I know!” Simon is about to snap. “But I swear I’m not lying! Look-” Simon turns towards the girl. She still stands in the middle of his submarine, eerily still. “Say something!”
“Hello, Miss Voice.”
“See?”
There’s a brief moment of silence in which Simon worries the connection was broken again.
“How-” he hears the director’s incredulous voice say. “How is that possible? There shouldn’t be anyone else with you! I’m positive you were alone!”
“I was alone,” Simon grumbles, “until she just fucking appeared. Trust me, I wish I knew how this was possible as much as you do. Maybe it’s some supernatural bullshit, I don’t know. But look, you have to pull me up! We have to get this kid out of here!”
More silence. Simon hears some faint muttering before the director speaks again.
“You need to get the sample first. If we take the time to pull you up and open the sub, we might lose our opportunity. I’m sorry, but the girl has to wait.”
“You can’t be serious,” Simon gasps in disbelief. “She’s a kid. You heard her, she’s just a kid! You can’t leave her down here! Bring us up!”
“You don’t understand,” the director says. “This could change everything! I don’t want a child to die any more than you do, but the resources contained here could save so many more lives.”
“No, you can’t-” For the first time since being welded in this death trap, Simon’s fear is not for himself. His voice breaks. “This isn’t fair. She hasn’t done anything.”
“I’m sorry. We’ll get her out once you get the sample.”
“The oxygen will be drained faster if you keep her down here!” Simon cries.
“You have enough to finish the job.”
“No, no, wait-”
The radio crackles, and goes silent. Simon slams his fist against the metal wall.
They’re going to sacrifice this child just like they’re sacrificing him.
What the fuck is he supposed to do now?
Simon grips his face in his grimy hands. He lets out a long, exhausted, devastated sigh. He just wants to live. He just wants this to stop. Please, let this stop.
He looks down when he feels a tug on his tunic. He glares at the girl with all the venom he can muster.
She flinches, and tears begin to well up in her eyes.
“I-I’m sorry-” she mutters. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. Promise. I just- wanted to ask where we are. I know I’m dead, but… I don’t think Benjamin brought me here.”
Simon feels something cold in his heart thaw at her tiny voice.
The tears begin to flow freely down her face. “I’m dead!” she cries. “I don’t want to be dead! I’m scared! Where did Benjamin go… he was right here!”
How did a kid end up in this hell? Who the fuck decided to send her?
Fuck whoever’s responsible for this.
The little girl hugs herself and sobs harder. “I’m scared… It’s scary here…”
Simon drops to one knee. Why, he does not know. But it feels like the right thing to do.
He’s now at eye level with her.
“I’m Simon,” he hears himself say. It takes a great amount of effort not to sound too rough. “What’s your name?”
She sniffles. “Misfortune…”
Simon winces internally. He’d like to break the nose of whoever gave their kid such a name.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Simon realizes he spoke much too harshly when Misfortune hugs herself tighter.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry. Here, sit here.” He gestures to his chair, and Misfortune sits down.
The radio crackles back to life. “Convict! Why aren’t you moving?”
“Oh my fucking…” Simon reaches over and presses a few buttons. Forgive him for not prioritizing the aimless search for a skeleton after a literal child appeared out of thin air.
Simon decides he should try to speak to the child again. He crouches down by the chair, and takes a deep breath to moderate his temper and rough voice. “Can I ask where you’re from?”
The girl wipes her eyes. “Openfields.”
Okay. Great. That means nothing to him.
“And… where is that?”
“Sweden. Like with all the forests and stuff.”
Great. He knows the names of all the stations that are left, and he’s positive ‘Sweden’ isn’t one of them. And did she say forests?
“Don’t lie to me!” Simon digs his nails into his palm when he realizes he snapped at her again. He kicks himself internally. She’s a child.
“Sorry,” he whispers, ashamed. “Sorry.”
“I’m not lying!” Misfortune clenches her tiny fists, and glares petulantly. “I really am from Sweden!”
“Okay, okay.” Simon doesn’t have time to dwell. “Where were you before this?”
“My friend Benjamin was taking me to The Great Beyond.” She swings her tiny legs over the seat of Simon’s chair. “I’m dead, you see. But I didn’t know it for a long time.”
Simon is silent, and lets her continue.
“It was so scary… but also kind of nice, you know? Benjamin was nice to me. But then he was gone, and it was just the scary darkness everywhere.” Small tears have started to form again, and Misfortune wipes at them with her sleeve. “It hurt so much. It felt like dying all over again. And now I’m here. Why am I here? Why can’t I just die normally?”
A ghost, perhaps? Simon has never believed in ghosts, but what other explanation is there? This girl is convinced she’s dead, and she appeared out of thin air.
“Do you know my friend Benjamin? He’s a very cute fox, with fluffy paws and blue eyes.”
“No, sorry.” There are no animals left on any of the stations. Perhaps she’s speaking about some sort of trauma-induced hallucination.
“That’s a shame. Are you dead too, Mister Simon?”
Simon shakes his head. “No. I’m not dead. At least not yet.”
“Maybe you’re gonna die soon… maybe that’s why I’m here.”
Simon really, really wishes she hadn’t said that.
________
“Mister Simon?”
“Mm.”
It’s hard to keep track of time down here. Simon has stopped trying. All he knows is that it’s been much too long.
Simon had tried to explain the whole blood ocean submarine giant monster thing to the little girl. She was understandably freaked out, and Simon himself had started freaking out when she began sobbing again.
Could he have lied to her about their situation? Perhaps. But he doesn’t think it would do much good. They’re both trapped down here.
Plus, blood has started to drip down the walls. No lie could explain that.
How did a child get down here? How did she just fucking appear?
It doesn’t matter right now. He needs to complete this mission. If he completes this mission he will be brought up to the surface, and the child will be free. If Simon doesn’t deserve to be saved, she sure as hell does.
She’s adjusting to this situation surprisingly well, all things considered. It seems like she was already deeply traumatized from something else.
The little girl now sits against the wall of the submarine, legs curled into her chest, while Simon sits at his control panel. Simon wishes there was more comfort he could give her.
Misfortune finally asks her question. “Are you evil?”
Simon’s hands still their movement across the control panel.
“What…” It takes a great effort to keep his voice soft. “What do you mean?”
“I just want to make sure, you know? You can’t tell if someone’s evil, even if they seem nice. Mr. Voice seemed nice at first, but he turned out to be a dickhead. He’s the reason I’m dead.” She glares at the floor. “So I think the best way to tell if you’re evil is to ask you. Please don’t lie, that would make me very sad.”
How… strangely straightforward.
He’s silent for a while. How can he possibly answer this?
He would like to say he’s not evil. That truly evil people hurt others for their own pleasure, and he would never dream of doing something like that.
But does it really matter what his intentions were?
It has to matter. He doesn’t deserve this fate.
“No,” he says eventually. “I don’t think I am.”
“That’s good,” she giggles. She is silent for a moment before speaking again. “I’m thirsty.”
Shit. Simon didn’t think about that. There’s barely enough water down here for himself.
Simon reaches around for his only water canteen, and hands it to Misfortune. “Here,” he says, “you can keep this.”
It’s not a hard decision to make.
“Thank you.” She takes a long sip, and puts the canteen down next to her. “Mr. Simon?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“I’m scared.”
Blood slowly drips down the metal walls.
“Me too.”
_______________
“Mister Simon?”
“Mhm.”
“Can you hear ghosts?”
“No,” Simon says with a small chuckle. “I can’t hear ghosts.”
“I can,” says Misfortune. “There’s a lot of ghosts down here. They’re screaming. I think they’re scared.”
Simon doesn’t have the slightest idea what the proper protocol is for helping a hallucinating child.
“What…” he asks eventually. “What are they screaming about?”
“A lot of things,” she replies. “It’s hard to hear the individual voices. I think I heard the word ‘rapture’ a bunch. There are so many…”
She grips her head in her tiny hands.
“The ghosts are getting louder. I can see a few of them over by that wall.” Misfortune points to the wall with the oxygen lights. “I think they’re scared. They’re all covered in blood.”
Blood…
Rapture…
Simon really, really hopes she’s just hallucinating.
_______________
Despite everything, a small part of Simon is glad for the company.
“I wonder if the monster likes glitter. Do you like glitter, Mister Simon?”
Even if she never stops talking.
“Tell me when you see it again, and I’ll throw some glitter at it. Maybe it’ll leave you alone then, and you can go back home. It’s kinda warm down here. Why is it so warm? I don’t like it.”
It’s nice to know he’s not alone. He desperately wishes this girl weren’t here, for her own sake, but the voice of another living person may be all that’s keeping him sane. The fact that she’s distressingly cheerful might be helping as well.
“I tried to make friends with the ghosts, but I don’t think they can tell I’m here.”
Maybe she’s not hallucinating. Maybe she really is seeing the ghosts of the other poor bastards they left down here.
“Hey, kid…”
She perks up. “Ya?”
He might as well at least try to figure out what’s going on. “You said you died, right?”
“Mhm.” She hangs her head.
“Do you remember how?”
“I got hit by a car while crossing the street.”
Okay. He has no idea what that means. Next question.
“Do you think you could tell me a little bit about your home?”
“Of course!” She sits up straighter, and eagerly begins talking. “I live with my mommy and daddy. Our house is kinda small, but my room is really nice. I have a secret spot that I like to hide in and pretend I’m in another world. Is that what this is?” She looks around the submarine. “Another world?”
It’s possible. It’s seeming more likely every second.
“One more question,” Simon says gruffly. He almost doesn’t want to know the answer. “What do you know about stars?”
“Oh, I love stars!” she exclaims. Simon belatedly realizes she’s hugging some sort of… rock? How long has she been holding that?
“It’s cloudy a lot in Openfields,” she continues, “but I like to go outside and look at them when the sky is clear. They just go on and on forever, and they’re so bright… I wish I could be a star.”
When Simon was a child, the sky was still speckled with stars. There are none left anymore. The ghostlights flickered out one by one over the years, until the sky went entirely dark. It’s theorized the Quiet Rapture has been happening for millions of years, completely undetected due to the massive distance the light of most stars has to travel, and only in 2349 did it reach the Sol System.
This girl doesn’t look older than seven. There’s no way she could ever have seen more than a handful of dim ghost stars.
If it were anyone else, Simon almost certainly wouldn’t have believed them. He probably would have snapped and accused them of lying. But this is a child. A small, scared child. She has no reason to lie.
Wherever this girl is from, she has stars. There exists a world where the stars are still alive, families have their own houses, and people still live under skies.
If Simon weren’t sitting in his chair, he might have fallen to his knees in disbelief.
________________
“Ram the ship,” the director says through the staticky radio.
“Ram the ship,” Simon repeats. “Kid, you might want to hold onto something.”
Misfortune, who has been wandering around the sub, walks over to the wall and wraps her arms around a pipe. “Are we gonna attack the monster?”
“Seems like it. Hold on tight, okay?” Simon tries to keep his voice gentle. “Don’t need you flying off.”
She giggles. “I flew once. A crow picked me up and carried me over a lake, and then I floated down with my coat. It was fun.”
Simon grips the lever on his control panel with sweaty hands, and he turns towards the radio. “And you’re sure the ship can handle this?”
“I’m sure. You need to trust me.”
With shaking hands, Simon brings the ship up to full speed. The navigation arrow trembles, the lights flicker, and the coordinates go haywire. Misfortune squeezes the pipe.
The sub hits the skeleton, and Simon jerks forward in his seat. He hits the control panel and feels the wind leave his lungs for a split second.
Simon falls out of his chair, and crouches by Misfortune. She managed to keep her grip on the pipe as the sub jerked, and now that it’s still she unwraps her arms.
“You okay?” he asks. She nods, unfazed, and smiles.
“Good.” Simon raises his voice, and calls to the radio. “Uh… I rammed it.”
When the director asks if he’s sure, he turns on the camera and examines the photo of the horrifying skeleton. Just like before, when he first found the skeleton’s head, he covers Misfortune’s eyes.
“I’ve seen scary stuff before, Mister Simon,” Misfortune cries. “Let me see the monster!”
“No.”
There appears to be a hole in the skeleton’s jaw, which Simon can only assume means he got the sample. “Hold onto something,” the director says, “We’re beginning the ascent.”
“Wait wait wait-”
She doesn’t give him any time to actually hold on to something before the submarine starts to shake. Simon is almost knocked off his feet, and he crouches before he’s knocked to the ground. Misfortune grabs his arm.
“Hey,” he yells. “Hey! There was something else!”
“Uh, s– say again?” The radio cuts out.
“There was something else, it was looking right at me!”
“It’s something alive? Are you- are you sure? Can you confirm? Wait, what just happened?”
“The monster,” Misfortune whispers.
She shrieks when the two of them are thrown to the floor.
“SOMETHING’S GOT US!”
The Director and David argue on the other side of the radio, though it’s hardly what Simon’s paying attention to right now. He’s thrown against the wall as the sub shakes violently. Misfortune’s tiny body is thrown next to him, and he grabs her arm to keep her in place. The lights of the sub flicker. The control panel sparks.
Misfortune is thrown upward, and she cries out when Simon’s grip on her arm tightens. Simon’s other hand searches for something to pull himself up with. He grabs his chair. The SM-13 is screaming, rattling the two people inside like rations in a can.
Simon barely manages to tuck the child into his chest before his head slams against the far wall.
______________
“Simon…”
Simon leans into his mother’s touch as she pets his hair. She pinches his cheek, and he giggles.
“Where have you been, my dear?”
“Sorry, mama,” he says. “I’m back now.”
His mother pulls him onto her lap. “Listen to me, Simon. You’re a sweet child. You know that, right?”
Simon nods. That’s what she always tells him.
“I need you to promise me something. Promise that whatever happens, you won’t forget that. I will always be proud of you, my starlight. You will never lose your spark.”
Simon tries to hold her shirt, but his hand goes straight through.
“Simon…”
“No!” Simon cries, grabbing at her fading form. “You can’t leave!”
“Promise me, Simon.”
“I promise!” he sobs. “I promise! Please, please don’t leave me! I can’t-”
But she is already gone.
“Convict…”
“You monster! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“You just blasted him with radiation, you sick fuck!”
Simon grips his head. He didn’t want any of this. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He’s not a monster.
Is he still the child his mother loved?
Please…
I’m sorry…
“Simon…”
“SIMON!”
He feels a faint pressure on his chest.
“Mister Simon!”
He shoots up, and finds a pair of dark eyes staring at his own.
“Mister Simon!” The little girl- Misfortune, he remembers- hugs him. Simon freezes at the sensation of tiny arms around his chest. How long has it been since he was hugged? How long has it been since someone touched him so gently?
“I was so scared!” she cries. “I thought you died! You weren’t moving, and it’s so dark… You looked so dead! I was so scared I would be alone! The ghosts are getting louder, and louder…”
“It’s alright,” Simon mutters. “I’m fine.” He gingerly puts a hand on her back. She’s still holding onto him like he’ll disappear any second.
It is dark. It seems the lights have all been broken.
“Hey,” Simon says. “You see that glowing box over there?”
She nods.
“Can you… go press it?” He would do it himself, but he doesn’t think he can stand just yet. Her tiny legs run over to the other wall, and she stands on her tiptoes to press the button.
The flash illuminates the submarine for a second, and Simon takes stock of the situation. It seems the sub has lost power completely. More blood has made its way through the walls. The oxygen is at one light.
“Oh…” Misfortune exclaims. “It’s like a light switch!
She walks back over to where Simon has begun to stand up, and she hands him the water canteen. “Here,” she says softly. “Drink more water. I tried to give you some while you were asleep, but you only drank a bit of it.”
Simon pushes it back. “No. You need it more.”
“But-”
“You need it more.” His voice doesn’t leave any room for argument, and Misfortune glares.
Simon can barely make out her hands trembling in the darkness. He’s worried for a second that he spoke too harshly again, when she speaks.
“I’m scared,” she whispers. “It’s so dark. The lady on the radio isn’t there anymore. I want to get out of here. I don’t want the monster to eat us.”
Simon was never taught how to comfort a kid. Especially when he’s just as scared as her.
He crouches down to meet her at eye level. “Trust me, kid, I want to get out of here too. I’m gonna do whatever I can, okay?” He hopes his voice doesn’t betray how utterly hopeless he feels.
It must not, because she smiles shakily. “Promise?”
“I promise.” He lifts up her hat to ruffle her hair, and she giggles.
“We’re gonna be just fine.”
_____________________
It’s an excruciating few days.
They have no contact with anyone, so all Simon can do is obsessively chart coordinates on his map and look around the sub for anything that might save them. Misfortune spends most of her time huddled against the wall, clutching the rock she’s been carrying. She runs out of water quickly. Simon isn’t sure whether giving her some of the alcohol to sate her thirst will do more harm than good. He decides not to risk it.
It’s horrifying down here. Misfortune’s cheerful rambling becomes less and less frequent. She says the ghosts are starting to make her head hurt. Simon is beginning to see things that aren’t there, visions of blood and giant eyes. He doesn’t think the child is hallucinating anymore.
The blood continues to drip from the ceiling and walls. Simon has Misfortune help him by pressing the camera every time he needs light.
A drop of blood lands on the girl’s head, and a few tangled hair strands cling together. Simon removes his headband and uses it to tie back her hair. He wipes the blood from her forehead with the hem of his tunic.
Simon feels like he’s on the verge of a new panic attack every few seconds.
They have to live.
________________
Don’t show your fear, Simon tells himself. If you freak out, the kid will freak out too. You have to stay calm for her.
Easier said than done. All he can do is cover her ears with trembling hands as the tortured voice screams through the radio.
“Please get us out! Please help us! We can't take it anymore! I thought we'd never find you!”
Simon talks with the voice for a while, his panic rising every second. It seems like she and the others on the SM-8 were abandoned just like him, and have been slowly dying. She speaks of gods and a divine light.
The voice isn’t real. Everyone on the SM-8 is already dead. It’s just the creature fucking with him.
“Open your eyes! We will see! We will know! Give us the answers! Let us see! We hear them... Our salvation!”
“Mister Simon…” Misfortune tugs on his sleeve. “What’s going on?”
Simon shakes his head.
___________
“I would really… I would really like to not be down here anymore. Please.”
Misfortune’s tiny hand squeezes Simons as he begs for his life.
“I know. I don’t think that’s possible.”
They’re going to leave him down here. The director just told him there’s nothing they can do for him anymore. Even the mission, apparently, isn't worth it anymore.
“You can’t do this…” Simon says quietly. “I had nothing to do with Filament station, I swear. It wasn’t part of the plan…”
“It’s not a matter of ‘want’ right now. We can’t risk any more dives. We have orders to stand by and observe.”
“Look,” he says. “Even if I deserved this. Which I don’t. But even if I did, the kid doesn’t. She has done nothing. She’s not a convict you sent down here to die, that’s me. You want to sacrifice me? I don’t fucking care anymore. Kill me! But you have to save the girl! She deserves to live, please, please!”
Simon distantly wonders if the director thinks he’s just using the excuse of a child being down here to be saved himself. He’s not.
“Please let us go, Miss Voice,” Misfortune says quietly. “It’s really scary down here.”
The director is silent for a moment.
“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.
They’re going to die down here. Him and this child are going to suffocate in a death trap made of metal and blood. Simon almost laughs at how hopeless he feels.
And then, in his desperate ramblings, he stumbles upon his saving grace.
The SM-8.
The COI needs that data. They need the materials from that submarine. And so the director makes a deal with Simon.
She gives him the credentials to download the data from the SM-8, and he manages to access the computer. He has a 30 minute window to save both himself and the child.
“By the way,” she says as Simon starts to get the sub moving.
“What?”
“My name is Ava.”
“Simon.”
“I’m Misfortune!” says Misfortune. “Please don’t leave us down here, Miss Ava.”
Simon could swear he hears a soft chuckle from the radio. “I’ll do what I can, Misfortune. Simon, let’s get this done.”
________
Simon is delirious by the time he gets to the coordinates.
He’s hearing the voices of his past in his head, screaming and screaming and screaming. The Father, his brothers, his mother...
He connects the computer of the sub to the SM-8, and starts the download process.
There’s an audio recording in one of the files. It’s the same woman he heard over the radio earlier when it lost connection with the people above.
He doesn’t think this time. He presses his hands over Misfortune’s ears on instinct.
The woman from the SM-8 sounds terrified. Simon watches the audio numbly, breath shaking with thinly disguised panic.
“It’s human,” she says. “The blood is us.”
The blood has started to clot on the walls. It’s soaking through the radio, filling up the pressure readings, and coating the floor. The recording continues. Simon breathes heavily as the woman begs for rescue.
She screams alongside the voices from the ocean, and then it is silent. Simon takes his hands from Misfortune’s ears and stares in horror at the screen.
He runs over to the control panel. He doesn’t accomplish much before he realizes something is terribly wrong with his arms.
They’re blistering, disgusting cracks and bubbles forming where the blood soaked through his forearm bandages. A drop of blood lands on Simon’s forehead, and cuts his skin open.
It’s alive.
Simon wipes his hands on his pants frantically. He whips out his knife, and slices a thick strip from the bottom of his tunic. He slices the strip in half, and slices one section in half again.
“Hold out your hands,” he tells Misfortune as he crouches by her. He wraps the two smaller pieces of cloth around her hands, then takes the larger piece and ties it around her forehead. Her skin is mostly covered by her coat, which is starting to soak through already, but Simon needs to make sure nothing is exposed.
Misfortune is trembling softly. Tears are forming in the corners of her eyes, but they have not yet fallen.
She grabs his chest, and he returns the hug in an instant.
Her body shivers with sobs. “Mister Simon…” she cries. “I’m scared! I wanna go home!”
“I know, honey, I know.” Simon isn’t sure where the nickname came from. Is that something his mother used to call him? It might have been. He can’t remember now. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be just fine.”
She clutches the wool of his worn tunic tighter. “Mister Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“I wish…” Her voice shakes, and she starts to sway on her feet. “I wish you were my daddy.”
“Don’t say that,” Simon mutters, his voice breaking. “Please don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.” She buries her face in his chest. He holds her tighter. “My daddy has never been this nice to me. He doesn’t care if I die. I think-” she takes a deep breath. “I think he’s the one who killed me.”
Simon can feel his heart breaking for her.
He has to get her out.
______________
The monster has killed Ava.
It happened too fast. The voices of the ocean were screaming at Simon alongside her as she begged him to get the data, and then she was gone.
He didn’t cover Misfortune’s ears. The child has just heard a woman being crushed to death.
The two of them stare in horror at the radio as more blood drips from the speaker. The ocean is still speaking to him. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, he’s the only one who can hear.
Simon picks Misfortune up and places her on the control panel. He pushes the speed controls up as far as they go, and guides her hands to hold the lever.
“Hold this for me,” he says, voice trembling. “Stay here. Try not to let the blood touch you. I’ll be right back.”
“No, no!” She grabs at his sleeve with one hand, the other still on the lever. “Don’t leave, please don’t leave!”
“I’m sorry, honey.” He feels a sudden urge to ruffle her hair again, but his hands are soaked with blood. “It’s for… for the greater good.”
“No!” she screams as Simon rushes over to the crawl space. “Mister Simon!”
He crouches down.
“Papa!”
His heart aches like nothing he’s ever felt before.
The crawl space is completely flooded, and Simon shouts a string of profanities as he trudges through. He’s completely submerged by blood when he finally manages to grab the black box.
The blood is flowing through the grates, rising rapidly around him. It covers his mouth, and he screams-
Like rising from a grave, Simon pulls himself from the blood. He hurls the black box up to the floor of the sub before climbing out himself.
There's about four inches of blood across the entire floor. Organic matter clings to every surface, spreading like vines. It’s no longer just congealed blood. Misfortune still sits on the control panel, blood splashed across her clothes but her skin still relatively untouched, and she bursts into tears.
She’s safe. She’s still safe.
But what hope is there for her?
There’s no way out of here. Even if Simon can keep her safe for the moment, there’s nothing either of them can do.
Blisters are growing all across his skin. He can feel them like a parasite.
“Stay there,” Simon whimpers. There might be tears in his eyes. He can hardly tell, his entire face is soaked already. “Please, stay there. Don’t touch the blood. You’re gonna be… just fine…”
The blood is flowing faster now, flooding the submarine and cutting into Simon’s legs. He straps the black box to a life vest as the viscous liquid rises.
Even if he’s refused to admit it yet, he knows he’s not going to make it out.
The submarine shakes. Simon is thrown at the wall, and Misfortune just barely manages to avoid being thrown from the control panel by keeping her grip on the lever.
Simon tries to rush over to her, but he can’t move. The vines from the wall have melded to his left arm.
“Papa!” Misfortune shrieks. The sub jerks again, and Simon’s right arm attaches itself to the other wall.
He yanks with all his might, and his right arm is free. His left is still being consumed by the vines.
Pull. Pull. Pull. He braces his leg against the wall. Pull. PULL!
There’s a horrible tearing sound, and Simon is thrown to the floor.
His head slams against the wall, but he doesn’t lose consciousness this time. He only slumps back into the thick pool of blood.
He stares up in horror at his left arm. The vines still bind it to the metal pipe.
The pain is all he can feel.
A shaking hand moves to feel the spot where his left arm used to be. It only confirms what he already knows.
The black box drifts by, still attached to the life vest.
It has to survive. It has to be worth it.
“Please keep this safe,” Simon mutters. “Okay mom? It’s more than me. It’s more than me…”
His body burns with agony. He’s barely a human anymore.
“It’s more than me, it’s more than me…”
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Misfortune is wading through the blood towards him. The liquid is up to her waist.
“No…” Simon mutters. “No, please. You can’t touch the blood. Stay away. You can’t touch-”
“There’s no way out,” Misfortune says. The words sound so wrong in her tiny voice. “There’s nothing we can do.”
She’s right, he realizes. She’s not going to survive.
Both of them might as well already be dead.
He holds out his remaining arm for her, and she clings to it.
The blood continues to flow. It's alive. It's alive, and it's devouring the submarine.
The monster awaits outside.
There’s truly no hope, is there?
Misfortune grips his soaked shirt with bloody hands. She’s crying, Simon realizes distantly. He might be crying too.
The ocean is still screaming, but Misfortune’s sobs are louder to him than the voices could ever be.
He holds the child to his chest as the world closes in on them both.