Chapter Text
There is just silence. Only the sound of the dripping blood breaks it, like a knife slicing through flesh. The blood quietly hums outside of the submarine, the currents pressing against the rusty iron in an encompassing hug.
Simon has grown accustomed to the stillness. He floats in the darkness, content with being forgotten. Nobody is coming.
At first, he was quite certain he was still alive. His arm, or whatever was left of it, hurt. The agonising pain reminded him he still has a body worth living. Now, the pain is gone, and Simon is not sure whether he’s still alive. Perhaps he died and didn’t notice it.
That must be it. He must be dead. Nobody should survive the horrors he’s lived through. He can’t even feel his body anymore. As if it dissolved in the blood that’s filling up the sub. Simon is simply a consciousness floating in darkness.
So when the interior of the sub gets suddenly engulfed in a blinding white light, Simon doesn’t react. It’s just a moment, just a few seconds, when he can see his surroundings. The tendrils devoured most of the equipment, and the blood has risen almost to the ceiling. If Simon could still use his arm, he would be able to reach out to the horrifying tear the blood eel’s teeth left behind in the hull.
The light disappears, and Simon is back in the darkness. Except this time, it’s not as suffocating as before. His eyes adjust this time, making out vague black shapes. Why now?
Simon’s surprise doesn’t last long. More blood starts pouring into the sub through the breached hull. At first, Simon welcomes the new blood with apathy, until he realises that this new liquid is not thick, boiling and iron-heavy.
It’s water. Life-bringing water.
It starts diluting the blood all around Simon, cooling it and making it easier to move around. Before Simon has any time to take in one last breath of whatever oxygen remains, he’s swept away and pushed outside.
The Iron Lung sinks heavily to the sandy bottom of the sea. Red streaks of blood rise from its wounds, slowly dissolving into the blue.
Ryland Grace does not know how to drive a boat. He barely knows how to drive a car. But when his private piece of sea starts to develop a bright red spot in its middle, Grace is forced to board a boat made of xenonite and set on a scientific expedition.
“Is red spot normal for big water?” Rocky chirps curiously. The translator is almost not needed anymore, but Grace still doesn’t consider himself to be fluent in Eridian. Especially not in stressful situations like this.
“No, that’s not normal. Are you sure the biodome guys haven’t been experimenting with the water lately?”
“No. Grace say water good. Good temperature. Good salt content. No change needed.”
Grace is grasping at straws here. He’s been living in his biodome for almost a year now, and the water was one of the first things the biodome scientists got right. They would occasionally experiment with the weather, but making the biodome windier or colder would not have caused a huge red discolouration in the sea.
It’s even bigger when they finally reach it. Grace, not very gracefully, parks the boat at the edge of the spot. Whatever this liquid is, he doesn’t want it to contaminate the hull.
“Okay, Rock. I’m gonna take samples. Can you check the sea floor with the radar?”
Rocky chirps positively and gets to work. The boat is fashioned with a travel laboratory. Anything Grace could need to examine both organic and inorganic samples, and some gadgets that Rocky was adamant he needed for his own research as well.
“The collection proves no problem. The liquid appears to be diluted by the water. Will need a centrifuge to separate the two materials. For now, let’s see what the microscope tells us.”
Grace likes to pretend that he’s narrating a fun science experiment to his students. He knows Rocky enjoys it as well, but the Eridian is currently busy with what is supposedly a radar.
The red liquid has a familiar structure. Too familiar. When Grace inspects the cells that remain after the centrifuge separation, he can no longer deny the truth.
“It’s blood. Human blood,” Grace whispers in disbelief. He checks again. Then again. Then gets a fresh sample and checks once more.
“How did it get here, question?”
“That’s an excellent question, buddy.”
The silence lingers between them as Grace tries to comprehend what he is even looking at right now. He will have to do more tests in a proper lab environment, but for now, he will have to accept that literal human blood appeared in his backyard artificial sea.
“Rocky find something too. Something is down there,” Rocky interrupts Grace’s train of thought. He’s been fiddling with the radar for some time now, clearly excited and scared of his discovery.
“What?!”
“Big ship.”
“How did that get there?!”
Rocky chirps and shrugs. It’s one of the many gestures he learned from Grace.
“Rocky extract with other Eridians. No big deal.”
Grace is simply left with his mouth hanging open. Of course. No big deal. Just the little fact that something has breached his biodome and started to bleed all over Grace’s artificial sea! And even worse, that something might be human.
Oh god. There might be a human inside.
“Rocky, we need to get it out. Right now! The blood… There might be someone inside!”
“Yes, yes, yes. New human friend. Rocky get help. Will lift the vessel.”
Hopefully, it won’t be too late.
Simon is not human. Deep down, he feels like a human, but humans don’t have a tail! And they certainly can’t breathe underwater! Simon hasn’t been able to take a good look at his body yet, but he can feel the changes. The way he moves in the water is fluent and natural. As if he were born to swim. The tail helps, since he’s one arm short now. He remembers losing it to the blood ocean, and whatever powers that changed his body didn’t grant him a new one.
When Simon woke up, the world was bright. Or at least brighter than the inside of the corpse of SM-13. He couldn’t see back then, but now he can. Everything has a blueish tint, and the shapes appear blurry, but it’s better than the primordial darkness. Is this some twisted version of heaven? Or perhaps it’s hell. Simon doesn’t deserve to ascend, so this must be his personal eternal suffering. He would believe he’s dead if he weren’t so hungry. While floating in the blood-filled submarine, he was free of the needs of the flesh. But now, his stomach twists and aches from starvation.
Simon doesn’t stray too far away from the submarine. It’s a safe haven, because who knows what awaits him in the further depths of the sea? But there is nothing to eat. Not a single fish passes by. No plants grow in the sand. When the hunger becomes unbearable, Simon ventures into the depths of the broken iron.
Is he imagining it, or does the submarine appear larger? No, it must be Simon’s imagination and the trauma that’s making it bigger. The veil of blood surrounds the fallen giant like a heavy armour. It’s hard to see inside, hard to breathe. Looks like Simon has adapted to breathing in water, not blood. But he searches the submarine nevertheless.
As the starvation becomes overwhelming, Simon decides that the only potential food source is the blood tendrils growing on the sub. They are spongy in texture and absolutely disgusting. They are easy to tear off the iron hull and keep the hunger at bay. After a while, the taste stops bothering Simon. He has eaten worse in prison.
Simon has no idea how much time has passed since he found himself at the bottom of a normal, non-bloody ocean. He contemplates swimming up to the surface, but the journey tires him before he reaches the goal. And leaving the relative safety of the sunken submarine is a terrifying prospect.
The irony is not lost on Simon.
The decision is made for him when giant hooks descend from the sky and latch onto the submarine. Then, the ascent begins.
“No!” Simon cries out, holding the rusty iron. His own voice surprised him. He hasn’t tried to speak since he appeared here. Why is it so high? As the words leave his lips, so does a column of bubbles. But his lungs do not protest the loss of oxygen.
The submarine rises slowly, but it’s still too fast for Simon. The water presses against his body. But he holds on. It would make sense to let go and hide, but the submarine is the only thing keeping him alive at this point.
Who is trying to access it anyway? Has C.O.I. decided to find him? Will they throw him back in prison? Or is his body too monstrous now? Perhaps they will study him, dissect him as the freak he is.
Simon lets go. It’s not worth the capture waiting for him above. The surface is so close now. He can feel the light on his face. Maybe a little peak.
The air is fresh and clean. Simon instinctively takes a deep breath. Surprisingly, his lungs accept the oxygen willingly. So he can breathe normal air. The gills on the side of his neck feel a little dry, but he’s not suffocating.
The submarine looms over Simon. It’s definitely bigger than he remembers. Its shadow takes over the entire sky, it seems. Simon’s eyes follow the hooks to a ship where a gigantic construction is pulling the submarine out of the water.
A smaller ship floats nearby, occupied by a man overseeing the extraction. Why is he so big? He looks human, but the size isn’t right. A primal fear washes over Simon. That kind of fear a small animal feels when facing a much bigger predator. He chases the urge to dive down into safety, and carefully starts swimming towards him.
The closer Simon gets, the more he is aware of his delicate size. The boat, despite being smaller than the one hoisting up SM-13, is still towering above him. And so does the man on top of it.
Perhaps Simon is dead, and this man is an angel here to lift him up to heaven. Away from this cold water that is Simon’s hell. Should he call out to him? Make him aware that they are taking away the only thing keeping Simon alive down there?
“What…”
He’s been spotted! Simon dives under the water as fast as he can. His heart is racing, his skin prickles with adrenaline. But no giant hand reaches down to grab him.
“Hey, Rock. Have the Eridian scientists figured out how to clone fish?”
“Grace is only non Eridian life in biodome.”
“Hmm…”
There are traces of English on the submarine, which excites Grace. Either aliens evolved a language system similar to English on Earth, or this vessel is human! Grace likes to believe the latter. What bothers him is the vessel itself. What is its purpose? It almost looks like a submarine with its engine and the small window, but there is no entry. The hatch is welded. Is it supposed to keep something in? The damage suggests that whatever was kept in must have escaped.
There are long gashes all across the vessel. They look almost like teeth marks. As if something impossibly huge bit into the submarine and tried to break it in half. Whatever did this almost succeed. There, on the upper side of the hull, the broken iron is dangerously sticking out.
The submarine is also radioactive. Rocky immediately panics upon hearing this, and Grace has to calmly explain to him that the levels of radiation are only slightly above the average. Nobody is dying. Grace has a theory that the vessel must have been exposed to a higher amount of radiation in the past, but Rocky doesn’t need to know. The sea and the blood do not show any signs of radiation. The Eridians were thorough.
“No heartbeat. Nothing alive is inside,” Rocky announces what Grace has been dreading. If something’s inside, it’s already dead.
“Let's dig into it then.”
The Eridians watch Grace work from behind a wall of xenonite. He doesn’t mind. If there is a dead body inside, Grace would rather be alone to witness it. He’s already buried two people in space, and if it’s necessary, he will bury one more.
Getting into the submarine proves to be much easier than Grace expected. Once mighty and thick iron now crumbles underneath his saw and melts from a plasma cutter. When the metal gives in, more blood gushes out as if Grace just opened a wound. At least they can confirm the blood source.
The amount is what unsettles Grace. The submarine has already released some blood into the sea, and yet there is still more. Can a single human even possess so much blood? Surely there couldn’t have been more people in the submarine. It’s so small!
“What Grace see, question? New human friends?”
Grace doesn’t see anything. No human, dead or alive. Just dried blood and strange red tendrils on every surface. Grace is very grateful for the hazmat suit he decided to wear for this examination.
“It’s clear. There is nobody inside,” Grace calls out to a cacophony of melodic thrills. Some of them are relieved, some are disappointed. Grace is disappointed as well. It was naive to think the universe would throw another human in his way.
Then his gaze sinks to the floor, and Grace freezes. Among residue blood and more fleshy tendrils lies a human arm.
“Oh… shit.”