Embedded Files
The second half of this tale I started the other day, based off of the second R.I.P.1.0.3. track (also called Beneathness). I'm going to include an embed of the song with this half, and recommend playing it as you read along.
***
Total Silence. Absolute Quiet. A complete and utter lack of sound. Entirely antithetical to the mere existence of a Subway terminal, and yet, such was the status of Old Inkopolis Square Station. No busy commuters rushing about, desperately trying to catch the trains on time; nobody manning the food kiosks or help desks, the shutters closed down and rusted in place; no low rumbling or wind rushing underscoring the cacophony of voices and footfalls that should be running through the station. On top of that, everything was cracked, dented, rusting, covered in mold and unsavoury graffiti; a combination of age, disuse, vandalism and natural reclamation that had left the place a shadow of its former self.
Then, for the first time in what must be years, sound rand out through the station. A very ungraceful, extremely clumsy sound not unlike someone tripping over.
“Gah!”
“Careful Skint; floor’s uneven.”
“Ayyy thanks, Brass, real helpful.”
Three Inklings carefully stepped down the final stretch of the entryway ramp, pocket-mounted flashlights piercing the darkness as they emerged into the station fully: Skint- looking extremely nervous and on edge, wishing he were anywhere else; Warp- who’s eyes were bright with excitement, despite her stony expression; and Brassic- armed with a Firefin Splatterscope and with a face that screamed ‘I am so very, very bored right now’.
Warp rummaged around in her messenger bag, producing a small digital camera. The faintest smile crossed her face, as she began snapping photos of the station, taking the time to get the position, angle and framing right for each one.
Brassic kept out of her way, but remained vigilant gazing around occasionally and straining his ears to listen. He gripped the Splatterscope firmly, but not tightly, ready to fire if need be.
“Y’don’t think you’re really gonna need to use that thing, right?” Skint asked, clearly in need of the reassurance.
“You’re the one that told me you heard strange moaning down here, Skint; what d’you reckon?” Brassic side, either not picking up on the hint or actively deciding not to placate it.
“O-oh...”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Warp interjected, soft-spoken as ever. “I do not think many of the drifters or squatters make use of the old subway network.”
“Not up to their standards, huh?” Brassic replied, sarcastically.
“Ah, I see you’re already well informed.”
“... Was that a dig?”
Warp ignored Brassic’s question, instead choosing to whistle a tune as she continued taking photos.
“It ain’t vagrants I’m worried about.” Skint said, hanging closer to Brassic.
“What else could there be?” Warp asked.
“He’s absolutely convinced the noises he heard were brain hungry ghouls, Warp.”
Warp turned to look at Skint, quizzically raising an eyebrow. “That’s a little absurd, Skint. I did not think you the type to believe in such nonsense.”
“H-hold up, I ain’t the one takin’ a damn Astrology class!”
“Interest in a subject does not necessary equate to a stringent belief in it, you know.”
Skint answered with a few frustrated noises, waving off her response dismissively. “Whatever. Look, you got a few good shots and basked in the gloomy-as-shell ambiance or somethin’; can we booboo already?”
“Booboo?” Warp asked, her expression shifting into one of obvious confusion.
“‘Booboo’ means ‘leave’.” Brassic quantified.
Warp took a few seconds to think about how, exactly, before giving up. “Nonsense; we’ve only wandered into one single station. There is an entire disused subway network down here to explore.”
“Jeez, you’re not considering making this a night-long expedition are you?” Brassic said, exasperated.
“... I might have been.” Warp said, sheepishly. Skint glanced at her with a defeated, despairing expression, unable to coherently voice his disdain at the suggestion (and deciding not to even try doing so).
“Oh for heaven’s sake...” Brassic said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok, I’m putting the kibosh on that frankly terrible idea. Absolutely not.”
“Brassic, you too...?” Warp asked, surprised.
“Give over; I don’t believe in spooky spectres or any sort of nonsense like that.” Brassic said, scoffing for effect. “However, I DO believe in our infinite capacity to get lost if we go in too deep, on the grounds that absolutely none of us have a map.”
Warp paused, thinking. “... I concede to that. In my excitement, I forgot to even source one.”
Skint was about to leap in and question how the seasoned urban explorer could possibly forget something that crucial, when a sound cut him off. It was faint, but all three of them noticed it.
The sound of pained moaning.
Skint froze, his face turning white. Warp looked surprised, taken off guard but more curious then afraid. Brassic had turned his gaze in the direction of the noise, eyes narrowing.
“What on Earth could that be...?” Warp said, the first to speak up.
“Not sure; it came from down that main tunnel, though.” Brassic said, gesturing to the inky black tunnel leading away from the station’s platform. He started strolling towards the edge, carefully.
Warp and Skint exchanged glances of confusion and fear, respectively. “N-no way are you seriously g-gonna go check that out, dude.” Skint said.
“Sure am.” Brassic said sharply, jumping down onto the tracks.
“You wanna be the first to get wiped out, pal, that’s on you, but I sure as heck ain’t fallin’ for that horror movie 101 trick.” Skint said, turning to leave. “Later.”
“Skint.” Brassic said, the edge in his voice subsiding slightly. “Someone could be seriously hurt down here. If so, then they need help.”
Skint stopped, shoulders jerking. Brassic was appealing to his better nature, and he knew it. Unfortunately, he was absolutely right. As Skint turned back, he saw Warp’s expression echoing Brassic’s concern, before she too headed down to the platform’s edge.
“... We are so dead.” Skint said, turning around.
---
The trio had been walking down the tunnel for what felt like hours; the fact that it was a straight shot with no turns and very few clear landmarks wasn’t helping with that. Neither did the fact that the darkness seemed far more
oppressive here then it did back at the station, their flash lights barely making a dent in it. What few distinctive landmarks there were didn’t inspire much confidence; debris and detritus from abandoned maintenance vehicles, mostly. Brassic lead the group, remaining ever vigilant and looking well within his element; Warp headed up the rear, internally conflicted over whether she should be more invested in the possible-rescue mission they were on or her sightseeing; and Skint was dead in the middle, trying to look confident and failing miserably.
The moaning sounded off every now and again, causing Skint to flinch each time it did; it seemed to be growing louder, too. Brassic took that as an indication that they were going the right way.
“... Whoa whoa whoa hold up, dude, hold up, what the heck is that...?” Skint said, finally breaking the silence. He was pointing up ahead, past Brassic, gesturing at something he and Warp had missed whilst glancing in other directions. The three of them slowed their pace as they approached, their flash lights gradually illuminating a large, silver structure.
It was an abandoned subway train; crushed in the middle by a portion of the tunnel that had collapsed. There didn’t seem to be any way passed it, or the mess around it.
The moaning sounded out again, the loudest it had been so far; whoever it was, they were nearby.
“Hey; you alright there?” Brassic called out, almost nonchalantly. “Sounds like you’re in a jam, mate. Need a hand?”
The only response was more moaning; it sounded a little sharper. A little more aggressive, maybe.
“Gonna go ahead and take that as a ‘yes’.” Brassic murmured.
“Brass, buddy... I-I don’t like this... somethin’ ain’t right.” Skint said, huddling closer.
“I have to agree with Skint.” Warp said, likewise huddling closer. “There’s something suspicious about this.”
“I’m not the greatest fan of what’s happening right now, either, but-” Brassic started, before being cut off by Skint gasping and pointing.
“D-dude, check your Two O’Clock!”
Brassic and Warp looked in the direction Skint was indicating.
The vague outline of something was standing in one of the shadowy corners next to the ruined train. Humanoid in form, with tentacles of some description. It was swaying slightly, emitting a gargling sound.
Brassic gestured at Warp and Skint, the former looking unsure and the latter looking about ready to freak out big time, to stay put. He slowly walking forward. “Everything alright there...?”
As Brassic approached, his flash light illuminated the lower right hand side of the figure.
The first thing they noticed was the colour of the skin; bright, neon green. The second was that it appeared to be pulsating, oozing, as though made of a viscous liquid. The third was the sudden drop of an additional glob of the creature’s skin hitting the floor next to it with a putrid squelching sound, and the subsequent thinning of one of the still obscured arms.
Before Skint could let loose the yelp that had been building in his throat for the last five minutes, Brassic got off a shot with pinpoint accuracy, striking the shadow dead centre; instead of dissipating in a cloud of ink, however, a noticeable hole appeared in the shadow as it held its shape for a moment, before it slowly began to shrink; pools of that green substance began to ooze into the light.
More moaning and gurgling sounds began to ring out from up ahead of them. The shadowy outlines of several more figures- the sources of the horrible sounds- quickly joined them. The outlines were advancing, slowly.
“Skint? Warp?“” Brassic said, tone even but firm.
“Y-yes?” Warp said in a meek tone, as Skint merely stammered in disbelief.
“Run, and whatever you do; DON’T look back.”
Not needing to be told twice, Warp and Skint took off running in the opposite direction; Warp took the lead, holding Skint’s hand as she pulled him along behind her with a worried expression on her face; Skint, for his part, seemed to be having a panic attack, but found himself thankful for the extra adrenaline running through his system.
Brassic wasn’t too far behind either of them, pacing backwards behind them as he fired off shots at the advancing figures whenever he got a beat on one. They weren’t even moving at a walking pace and were clearly unsteady on their legs, but the sheer number of them popping up from all sides presented a problem; he was very quickly running out of Ink with no easy means of replenishing it, and for each one he felled two would take it’s place. The inevitable click of an empty tank was met with a hushed expletive under his breath, before he doubled his pace and caught up with Skint and Warp. Before long, the trio had made it back to the platform of Old Inkopolis Square Station, decently ahead of the advancing crowd but without a lot of time to play around with.
“We’ve got to do something about that lot.” Brassic said, barely panting.
“Are you... outta your... flippin'... mind...?!” Skint said, conversely gasping for air.
“I think we should seal them down here.” Warp chimed in, wiping sweat from her brow. “I do not have a clue what they are or what they are capable of doing, but they seem... very dangerous.”
“Agreed. We can’t risk the chance of them making it to the surface.” Brassic said, glancing around. “The floor’s open for suggestions on how we do that, though.”
“Disregardin’ how mental both’a you are, I reckon our best bet is bringin’ the entrance to the tunnel down.” Skint said, pointing at the opening in question. “Look; there’s cracks and splits all over the brickwork. I figure it’s a good shout if we hit hard enough.”
“Nice plan, Skint.” Brassic said. “Safest way around that is if two of us take each side of the base and smack away at it with what’s on hand.”
“What about the third person?” Warp asked.
“I suppose it’d be best if they acted as a distraction; y’know, stood in plain sight, made an awful lot of noise; these things don’t seem all that smart, but they seem willing and ready to go after someone making stupid decisions.”
Skint buried his face in his hands, well aware of what Brassic had in mind. “Sometimes, Brass, you can be such a seahorses a-”
---
It took a few minutes for the figured to start barely coming into sight, still mostly obscured by the darkness around them. Stood a safe distance away from the opening of the tunnel was Skint, looking like an absolute pollock as he stood with his hands on his hips, attempting to crack a smile whilst trying really hard not to cry. “Oh h-hey there spooky dudes! Nice of y-ya show up!” Skint called out, gesturing and pantomiming to ludicrous degrees with each word that came out of his mouth. It would have been funny were the circumstances not quite so dire. “So, uhhh... you uh... you want a piece of this...?” He said, pointing at himself.
‘Terrific job, Skint’ Brassic thought to himself, as he jammed a thick piece of rebar into one of the cracks in the wall and pulling on it. He girt his teeth, gripping the rebar with all the strength he could muster. Warp, meanwhile, wailed on her side of the wall with a makeshift hammer of sorts that she’d fashioned out of a chunk of debris and another bit of rebar, starting to sweat as she did so.
“I-I mean, o-of course y’do!” Skint continued, barely able to hear himself over the pounding in his chest. “You’re some sorta underground dwellin’ creatures time forgot or whatever; you’re inclined to wanna feast on folks like me! But ah, there uh, seem to be... quite a lotta you. I dunno if lil’ old me is gonna be-”
Skint was cut off by a shot barely passing by his head, causing him to finally let out a shriek of terror as he fell to his knees. “OH CARP IN HECK THEY’RE ARMED! THEY’RE FREAKIN’ STRAPPED, BRASS!”
Brassic looked past Skint as he worked, at the area where the shot landed; it seemed to be ink of some sort. He didn’t really have time to think about the implications, however, focusing on his work. “Double time it, Warp!”
“Understood!” Warp yelled back, panting before reinvigorating her efforts. The cracks were beginning to deepen on both sides of the entrance, so their efforts were working; but they needed to work a little faster.
Skint whimpered as he tried to get up, only for another shot to ring past him, forcing him to fall backwards as he barely dodged it. He opened his eyes, staring down the tunnel in pure horror, until he noticed something that gave him pause.
Tentacles. These things... they had tentacles on their heads. He could see the outline of them, now. “Huh...?”
“C’mon, Skint; we need you to keep playing distraction here!” Brassic yelled, biting down on his bottom lip to try and fight through the exhaustion quickly overcoming him.
“Yeah... yeah, I hear ya.” Skint said, the fear gradually dampening as a cold sensation replaced it. “What are you guys...?” Skint called out, into the darkness. “What...?”
He paused, as his eyes adjusted to the dark; he could just about make out the figure closest to the entrance.
An Octoling. It was an Octoling. Except, it wasn’t.
Oh lord, the look of pain on it’s face. It knew. It was aware of what it had become, he was sure of it.
“What...”
Skint didn’t get a chance to finish as both Brassic and Warp yelled at the top of their lungs; he was too focused on the tunnel to notice. He continued to stare even as he felt himself being dragged away by the pair, as he saw the cracks spreading across the top of the tunnel as it began to cave in on itself, burying the figures beneath it.
---
The trio sat on the floor of the entryway ramp to the station; they could just barely hear the sound of people going about their night in the square above, and none of them were ready to face normality just yet; they were still processing what had just happened.
“They were Octolings.”
Skint was the first to break the silence. Warp and Brassic looked at him with haunted gazes. “What did you say...?” Brassic said, barely above a whisper.
“I mean... ‘least I know one of them was. I saw ‘em. Just before the tunnel collapsed.” Skint said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I could kinda make out tentacles on some of the other figures, too... dunno if they were all Octolings or if some of ‘em were Inklings, but...” He trailed off, taking a few moments as the face of the figure he made out flashed before his eyes. “T-the one I saw... looked like it knew it had been all twisted up. Somethin’ about its face told me it was, like, barely cognisant...”
An uncomfortable silence descended over the three, briefly.
“Skint... are you sure you weren't seeing things that weren’t there?” Warp asked. “It was a particularly extreme scenario, so...”
“I know what I saw, Warp.” Skint replied. “That weren’t no ‘eyes playin’ tricks on me’ kinda deal.”
“He might be right.” Brassic said. “I got a look at the shots they fired out at him; they were definitely using Ink based weapons. That doesn’t necessarily mean they were... you know... but it’s not impossible.”
“What the heck could’a done that to em?” Skint asked, almost helplessly.
“Total honesty?” Brassic said, voice softening. “I have no idea. Something... pretty bad, is all I can guess.”
Silence descended on the three again. They didn’t need to talk anymore; they all knew they were thinking the exact same thing. ‘We need to tell someone about this’; ‘but... there’s no way anyone will believe us’; ‘perhaps we should keep quiet for now, as we’ve managed to stop them’; ‘we... have stopped them... right?’
***
~ Decon Theed (17/10/18)
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