Chapter Text
His head hit the back of the submarine, and all he knew then was darkness.
He looked up at the faded stars, “I can still see them, stop saying they’re gone! We can all still see them!” The father chuckles, “my son, those stars are already dead. Mere ghost light, growing dimmer by the day.”
He opened, or at least he thought he opened his eyes, it was hard to tell. God, his head hurt. He tried to look for any kind of light source, but the green light that illuminated the button to use the camera was..
Below him?
No, that’s not right. He began to try and sit up, but his head hit the submarine’s ceiling.
“Ow.”
He said without thinking about it. But then he thought about it.
“Wait-“
He began to really think about it.
“I’m floating.”
How the hell was he back in space?!
After getting his bearings back, he pushed off the ceiling and floated towards the back wall of the submarines interior. He held onto one of the pipes to keep him steady, but hesitated on pressing the button.
What if they really brought him back up? What if he was back in C.O.I’s custody, and they were cutting him out?
Unlikely.
They cut the chain, there was no way in hell they would send someone down here to get him. They wanted him gone.
He pressed the button, dreading for there to be skeletons, human skeletons, but..
There was nothing. Pure, pitch black darkness was what the camera captured.
“No.”
He watched the photo fade, and pressed down again.
“No, no that’s-“
He slammed his fist down on the button for a third time.
“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT-“
He was in space. Not on the C.O.I’s ship, no, in fucking space. Those fucks launched him into space incase there was a slim chance that he survived the death trap that was ‘serving his penance’.
He dropped down to his knees, or as much as he could in deep space, bending his knees and using his left hand to grab the pipe to push himself down, and his right arm to hug his knees to his chest.
He’s going to die here, in this dark, dark submarine, haunted by the thoughts of his past.
He brought the pendant to his face, the only thing keeping him going all this time, only to realize that it was cracked.
He really was alone.
He didn’t know how long he sat there before he heard it. A voice, coming from the intercom.
“H-“
The voice cut out.
He launched to his feet,
“HELLO?!”
He pushed off the pipe to get closer to the glowing yellow light, grabbing the nearest thing to levitate closer to the voice.
“Can, can you hear me?! Hello?”
The only thing that answered him was static.
“..please.”
He glanced at the front of the sub. He had one bar left.
“Please, I’m sorry- just please get me out of here I don’t know how much time I-“
There was more static before finally,
“OH MY- static -OD WHAT-“
The voice was heaven to his ears.
“O-okay I’ll get you- static -there, just- hang tight I-I’ll try and-“
Oh thank whatever nonexistent god there was out there.
He was actually going to live.
It felt like hours before the voice spoke to him again.
“-ay, uh, I have the Hail Mary close enough to that- static -where’s your door? Your ship is covered in-“
Hail Mary? He’s never heard of that ship before, or maybe the C.O.I’s a lot more secretive than everyone thought.
“There.. there isn’t one, can you still get me out if-“
“Okay, wow, that’s- static -little whoop, I-I can work with this, I just have too-“
“Whatever you need to do, do it quick. I don’t have much o-oxygen left.”
He heard shuffling on the other line before the voice spoke again.
“-okay, medium whoop, how much do you have left-“
“One bar.”
“Okay, big whoop.”
What the fuck was this guy talking about right now? What the hell is a whoop? And how is this guy going to get him out anyway? This man is likely C.O.I, this could be a trick. He shouldn’t be so hopeful. He knows where being too hopeful gets you, and it puts people in blood oceans, and before that, starts death cults. He’d learnt his lesson.
But he can’t help it.
He heard static, then more shuffling, before he heard the voice again.
“You can hear me, right? I connected the signal to my suit, hopefully better quality too- hey, are you still-“
“Yeah. I-I’m here.”
“Good, okay, our ships are being connected so you won’t have to worry about being sucked into space, so, thumbs up, but I need you to get the furthest away from the middle of your ship, got it?”
“Yep.”
Why is the voice calling the submarine a ship?
He pushes off the pipe and grabs onto the one closest to the back. He watches what he assumes is the middle of the ship, he still can’t fucking see, and waits.
Even if this man fails, even if he gives up and abandons him, Simon will still be grateful. This guy is the nicest person he’s ever met. If he dies down here, at least he won’t be doing it alone, even if it is just some voice on the intercom. At least someone cared enough to try.
But.
That’s to say this voice isn’t a hallucination, that it’s just something is mind conjured up after he inhaled too much carbon dioxide. Or he’s already dead, and this is some weird type of purgatory, living in an endless loop of hope, alone with a voice making false promises of freedom. That’s to say if any of that was real, and he wouldn’t end up in hell.
It’s not like he hasn’t been there before.
“Hey uh, I can’t just keep calling you ‘the guy’ in my head, what’s your name?”
He’s silent for a moment.
“..Simon.”
“Alright, Simon-“
He hasn’t been called his actual name in years.
The last time he was called his actual name was before his mother was given to the last tree. He still remembers the pleading look in her dark brown eyes as The Father slid her throat with the dagger he’s slid so many before her, as she was give to The Last Tree as an offering.
If you could even call it that. The oak tree had been dead for months. He remembered the shakiness in her voice as he was held back by his ‘brothers’.
“It’s okay Simon, when I die, my body will become the-“
She didn’t get to finish her sentence before The Father slaughtered her. That was the loudest he’d ever screamed, and the biggest beating he’d ever received after trying to slaughter one of his bothers to be set free.
He stopped believing in any of Eden’s bullshit as soon as his mother closed her eyes.
After that, he was called the Butcher, and later on, convict.
“-is the brownish reddish frozen stuff on your ship.. dangerous? Asking just incase I have to throw away my suit after this.”
“..Yes”
“Alright, I’m gonna start to cut you out of there, are you sure you’re not in the way? I don’t wanna, like, cut you or anything.”
“Y-yeah I’m.. I’m sure.”
The room is then lit up in an orange hue by the machine that the man was using, hot sparks flying. His voice was slightly muffled by the loud machine he was using before he spoke up again.
“I’m Grace. Ryland Grace.”
“Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“..thank you.”
He can’t recall the last time he said those words. But it’s not like there was anything to be grateful for then, but, there is now.
If any of this is real.
His left arm started to fall asleep by holding on the pipe for this long. It felt quite strange, as if it was slowly traveling from his fingertips to his wrist, but Simon paid no mind to it. He was finally going to be freed.
“This is really hard to cut in zero gravity, wow-“
Finally, a large opening gave way, and a metal circle was pushed away to the other side of the sub. His savior walked in right after, looking at the front of the submarine before turning around and noticing Simon.
He felt unfathomable gratitude towards this man.
And maybe it was a trick of the dim light coming from the circular opening, but Grace actually looked relieved to see him instead of listening to a weak voice over an even weaker connection.
Until his eyes trailed downward towards his left arm, and all what was left on his face was horror.
Simon looked down at his arm and freezes.
There were red vines slowly trailed up his arm, leaving bumps and blisters in its wake. Now up to his elbow, making nauseating wet sounds at it moves up his limb.
What the fuck.
He tried pulling away his arm but it wouldn’t budge. He tried again and again, all while the tendrils started to crawl up his arm faster. Grace walks towards him after realizing that it would take more than just a few weak pulls for Simon to be freed. As Grace moves closer to him, he starts to hear what he’s saying under his breath.
“WhatohmygodI’mgonnapukewhatthehellisonyourarm-“
Simon lifts up his two feet and puts them both on the pipe below him and pushes to give him leverage to maybe get his arm free from whatever the fuck this is. The vines are now to his upper arm, almost to his shoulder, oh god-
YOU CANT ESCAPE ME, BUTCHER.
“OH MY GOD-“
After Grace hears the distorted woman’s voice, he instantly runs behind Simon and wraps both of his arms around his waist and starts to pull.
First, he felt his skin stretching uncontrollably.
Then, it started to separate.
He felt his veins ripping,
his muscles being torn apart,
and finally, his bone breaking as he was set free.
It was the worst pain he’s ever experienced life, and all he knew in life was pain.
But all that came out of his mouth was a pathetic whimper as he went slack in Graces arms, only having enough energy to stay conscious.
Barely.
He knew Grace was saying something, but he couldn’t hear him. His ears were ringing too loudly. But he felt Grace adjust his grip on him as he was picked up bridal style.
All he felt was agony. This was worse than being shot, stabbed, or water boarded. He’s experienced all, on multiple occasions. And he would rather have them all happen simultaneously than ever have his arm ripped off by whatever was now traveling up the left side of his neck.
He felt like he was being boiled alive.
Grace pushed back against the back of the submarine, and with the help of zero gravity, he exited the submarine. he traveled through the short tunnel that connected both of their ships.
Red tendrils followed them out.
He felt himself losing consciousness.
His last thought was,
even if Grace fails to save me, I’ll be thankful. God, I hope those red tentacles don’t hurt…
Before he could finish his sentence, his vision went black as he heard the air lock close, causing the nauseating noise of the red vines moving to stop.