A/N- This is a Metro 2033 Bagginshield AU. If you know nothing about Metro 2033 just know this is a post-apocalyptic horror sci fi book that takes place in the tunnels of the Russian Metro. I own nothing of Tolkien's or Glukhovsky's.
Seven hours on watch.
Seven dark, dingy, cold hours sitting beside a gently crackling fire that did little to illuminate the ever present darkness around them. It wasn't the darkness of night. It was the crushing darkness of close walls and low ceilings. The darkness that people dared not venture into without heavy armaments and giant, industrial sized flashlights. But it was also the darkness that people have grown grudgingly accustomed to and for many, it was the only darkness they knew.
Many would never know the darkness of a true night; the skies littered with millions of stars and the moon shinning high above. How would a child born to the tunnels of the metro ever know the true, infinite beauty of stars?
But Bilbo remembered them. Sitting here, in this unnatural darkness, he could fondly recall that night 10 years ago when he sat between his mother and father and gazed upon the stars. He was already 16 then. Still a boy.
Yet, the memory helped in moments of anxiety. Or boredom.
Yawning loudly and stretching his legs out in front of the fire, Bilbo tried his best to stay awake. There was only one hour to go and he would be damned if he fell asleep now.
"Did I ever tell you the story about the four legged, three headed mutants?" Came the question from beside him and Bilbo peered at his hat wearing companion to roll his eyes with a slightly exasperated chuckle.
"Oh Bofur, those mutants seem to grow more heads and legs the more you tell that story."
Bofur laughed next to him, adjusting the RPK-74 resting in his lap. "You don't believe it?"
"Not the 4 legged bit. I'm sure there are mutants with 3 legs maybe. But 4? How would they even function?"
Bofur shrugged at the question, idly chewing on a long gone out rolled up cigarette. "They're mutants. How do they function in the first place?"
"By...being mutants, I suppose." Bilbo shrugged, squinting into the darkness and shivering. This really wasn't the best topic for watch hours, but at least they weren't talking about...them. Another shiver rocketed up his spine at the mere thought and Bilbo tried his best to think of something else. Those...things...always gave him the chills. But they did worse to other people. The mere mention of those creatures could send the most hardened soldier into horrified hysterics and most on the station learned to try and not speak of them.
The Dark Ones. Bilbo rubbed nervously at his arm. Right, think of something else...
Bofur grimaced and stood, stretching luxuriously and sliding a hand under his hat to scratch at his hair. "They keep promising us fortifications. And where are they, I ask you?" He grumbled suddenly, Bilbo peering up at his friend through his curls. He wondered if they were on the same train of thought.
After a moment of stretching, Bofur grunted, spat out the cigarette and peered down at Bilbo. "Did you hear about what happened?" He asked cryptically and at Bilbo's look of confusion, he flopped back down once more, knocking his hat back away from his eyes. "Down on the purple line, it's what...3 away from ours?" Bilbo looked uncomfortable at the words but Bofur carried on, flicking at his hat once more. "They say someone gutted the whole station there."
Bilbo's look of discomfort grew. "Gutted?" He asked a bit meekly and Bofur nodded, moving closer to the fire and grabbing the kettle to put the tea on.
"There were stories, you know. Kept saying that their patrols kept disappearing. They'd go out, barely a kilometer away and never come back. Everyone started to get worried real quick. Sent out other patrols to look for them and found nothing. Not even traces of guns being fired or any kind of struggle. And then another patrol disappeared, and they weren't even half a kilometer away. They got scared. Set up fortifications and brought out the flood lights. Sent out a runner to their neighboring station. He wasn't gone a day when another come running, saying all the defenders got their throats slit. By the time their neighbors sent people to investigate the whole station was empty."
"Empty..?"
"Yeah. No people, no bodies. Just a station swimming in blood."
Bilbo swallowed, gaze dashing quickly down the tunnel. "Thank you, Bofur, that's very comforting..." He muttered at last and his friend chuckled as he put the kettle on, clapping his free hand on Bilbo's shoulder.
"Now, now, I'm sure it's all just stories." He said easily in response to Bilbo's nerves, adjusting the gun on his lap once more. Bilbo didn't look relieved at all and stared down into the darkness of the tunnel. He had heard similar stories before. Some ended up being just that. Simple stories from a scared populace. But others... Bilbo swallowed. He wouldn't be surprised at this point. With the Dark ones recently appearing and all sorts of strange things happening in the depths of the tunnels no one inhabited, he would have been more surprised to find this particular story to be false.
Bofur looked incredibly unconcerned and sat back leisurely, watching the fire while Bilbo's eyes remained fixed on the tunnel. They sat quite removed from the station, 450 meters away, where its red emergency lights were barely visible and the din of sounds just barely reached their ears. In fact, their post was just as far into the dark as Bilbo was willing to sit. Ever since the appearance of the Dark ones, going far into their own tunnels had become increasingly more dangerous. And no one wanted to run into one of those...things all by themselves, in the dark, beyond the 500 meter mark. At least people were still willing to venture there. But the further the patrols got from the 500 meter marker, the more uneasy they became. And that feeling grew progressively worse until the 700 meter mark. That was where even the most hardened soldier would stop in silent terror, putting out their cigarettes and slowly, not daring to turn their backs to the darkness and aiming their mighty guns into the pitch black void, they would back away. Back away until the safety of the last watch post.
Which is where they sat now.
Bilbo drifted into his own thoughts while Bofur poked at the fire with scraggy stick. How did it come to this? Ten years ago, he would have never imagined this happening. That they would be forced to hide in the metro to survive, as the world above became too toxic for human life. And slowly, that toxicity seeped into the tunnels where they cowered. Mutants, radiated waters, animals that you couldn't even call animals anymore. Rats the size of dogs. Bilbo shivered, toying idly with a thick chain that hung around his neck.
"What do you think they are?" Came the sudden question, making Bilbo jump in surprise and stare, wild eyed at his companion.
"What, the rats?!" He blurted, Bofur quirking an eyebrow at him.
"No, not the rats. Why would I ask about the rats?" He chuckled and Bilbo grimaced at him, clearing his throat and tucking the chain back under his shirt.
"What, then?" He asked instead of explaining and Bofur stared at the kettle thoughtfully.
"The Dark Ones." Bilbo blanched but Bofur didn't seem to notice. "They're not mutants, are they? I mean...not really. I wonder what they are..." He trailed off thoughtfully and Bilbo chewed on his bottom lip.
"Who knows..." He muttered, eyeing the darkness of the tunnel wearily. Bofur looked ready to explore the topic further but he was interrupted. At first, the noises were tiny and barely distinguishable. So much so that the two men by the fire didn't hear them. It was Bilbo who heard them first. And Bilbo who hissed at Bofur to be quiet, standing slowly and hefting his gun from his back to his hands. The noises grew louder; a faint scritching and rustling, followed by the light trudge of uneven footsteps. Bilbo swallowed, shakily removing the safety off his Kalash and sliding further away from the fire.
"Stop, or I'll shoot!" He called to the noise, doing his best to not let his voice crack while Bofur hissed behind him, quickly jumping to his feet and grabbing his own gun and flashlight. The footsteps didn't falter and an odd noise followed them. A gurgling, hissing sputter with a faint undercurrent of a high pitched wail.
"Not human!" Bofur snapped, quickly flicking the flashlight on and guiding the beam down into the darkness. The footsteps froze, then sped up and an ungodly shriek echoed around the tunnel walls as the light from the flashlight finally landed on the creature.
"Crawler!" Bilbo cried out, and there was a racket somewhere behind them while Bofur attempted to shoot the monstrosity down. It shrieked and writhed and leapt from the floor to the ceiling, to the walls. Bofur swore loudly.
"Stay still, you piece of..." There was another shriek from somewhere further down the tunnel.
"Another one!"
"Bilbo, whistle!" Bilbo didn't even have time to grab for the whistle when a faint click sounded from somewhere next to his shoulder and the creature let out a wailing shriek and collapsed on the tunnel floor. The noises from in front of them grew louder and Bilbo, not having a chance to look at who fired and swallowing the lump in his throat, quickly moved forward, aiming into the darkness. Another shot, another pain filled shriek and the noises subsided into echoes.
Bilbo slumped slightly while Bofur trudged forward to the still slightly writhing creature on the rails, blasting a bullet through its skull for good measure before disappearing into the gloom. Bilbo could barely see the tiny spot of his companion's flashlight bouncing off the walls in the darkness.
"Ya alright, lad?" Came the question from behind and Bilbo breathed out shakily, peering over his shoulder to see the men who joined them. Two stood there, one of whom was holstering an incredibly impressive pistol. It was huge, bigger than any that Bilbo had seen on the station, a silencer covering the muzzle, which explained the lack of gunshot noise. But the man himself. Bilbo frowned. He didn't look familiar...
He'd think on it later, Bilbo decided as he peered at the speaker instead. "Thank you, Gloin...we're fine." There was another sound of a gunshot from the tunnel before Bofur trudged back to the camp fire, wiping gunk off the tip of one boot.
"Nasty buggers, don't die so easily." He grumbled before settling down, inviting the new comers to join them. Gloin grinned through his beard, clapping Bofur on the shoulder as he settled and reached over to the kettle just as it started to whistle.
"Haven't seen crawlers in these tunnels in months." Gloin pointed out with a frown, accepting a white tin cup filled with tea. "Not since those other things showed up." He added. Bilbo grimaced as he took his own cup from Bofur, blowing on the hot liquid. The stranger with the powerful pistol perked up at Gloin's last words, looking suddenly curious.
"Other things?" He asked quietly, his voice a gruff murmur. Gloin grunted in reply.
"We...really shouldn't talk about 'em."
"No?"
Bofur snorted loudly, blowing on his tea and taking a long swig. "It's all a bunch of superstitious nonsense." He waved it off but Bilbo frowned into his tea.
"...You haven't seen them..." He breathed gently and felt the stranger's eyes on him now. Bilbo swallowed. "They get into your head...the first time they come, it's like...you can feel them. A sickening little tickle in the back of your mind. As if...something is not quite right. But you're not sure what." Chewing on his bottom lip, Bilbo trailed off, Gloin nodding beside him.
"Something ain't right about them. It's not natural." He agreed. The stranger peered between them but said nothing for a while, giving Bilbo a chance to study his face. He looked older by a few years, with a fairly neatly trimmed beard and slicked back black hair sprinkled with gray. He was tall; taller than Bilbo by at least a foot with small scars marring his face. Bilbo wondered who he was.
He was so focused on studying the stranger that he didn't notice the man was doing it right back, if only for a brief moment while Bofur and Gloin began arguing about something over their tea. Bilbo drowned it out. They always had some sort of argument going, some spanning for months without a clear winner. And it was all in good nature.
Bilbo sipped his tea, distracting himself to eye the tunnel and tuning out the noise from his companions. It was quiet in the darkness now. So quiet that Bilbo could hear the water dripping against rusting rails of the tunnel. Quiet and still. He hoped that meant the end to the crawlers...at least for the time being. Staring into the darkness, Bilbo tried to think about stars once more. It was getting more and more difficult to recall them.
A hand clapping on his shoulder jolted him quickly out of his thoughts. Bofur was standing, as was Gloin. "Watch is over." His partner was saying as Bilbo quickly swigged down the last of the tea, setting the cup down on the crate he was using for a seat. Their watch may have been over but it looked like Gloin and his strange companion weren't done yet. Their relief came up soon, clapping them on the shoulders and shaking their hands, quickly investigating if anything went on and if it was dealt with. Bofur recounted the events before bidding their replacements a good night and trudging back to the station, returning to his argument with Gloin.
Bilbo found himself walking alongside with the stranger, feeling even shorter now that they were standing. The man peered down at him, eyes a bright, piercing blue, even distinguishable in the faint light coming from their flashlights. Bilbo found it curious. He also felt a tad awkward but didn't have much time to fret over it as the stranger broke the silence himself.
"Do you know Gray?" He asked in his hushed gruff murmur of a voice, Bilbo having to strain a little to hear him.
"Gandalf, you mean? Of course. He's uh... a god father of sorts... I suppose..." He trailed off, quirking an eyebrow at the man who looked quite curious himself.
"God father, hmm? Didn't peg him as the type." The stranger mumbled under his nose and Bilbo grew even more interested.
"Who are you? You're no local." He said skeptically to which the stranger grunted in affirmation.
"No, suppose I am not."
"Then who are you?"
"A friend."
"Does this 'friend' have a name?"
The stranger gave him an odd look. "Why?"
"How am I supposed to tell Gandalf that someone was asking for him if I don't know your name?" Bilbo tutted with slight impatience, still studying the man as they walked.
"Thorin." The stranger answered at last as they neared the 350 meter mark where the two would remain.
"Should I pass a message along?" Bilbo asked slowly and the man named Thorin gave him a quick glance.
"Tell him I need to talk." He said simply before nodding his farewell while Bilbo and Bofur continued on to the station. Bofur peered at his companion quizzically.
"Who was that?"
"He just said his name was Thorin." Bilbo shrugged with a frown. "Said he knew Gandalf."
"Huh..."
"My thoughts on it too."
Bofur chuckled, flicking the hat back from his eyes once more and giving Bilbo a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Go get some sleep, Bilbo. I'm sure it'll be fine." He said easily, despite Bilbo not actually worrying over whether things would be fine or not. But he let it go and, shaking Bofur's hand, bid the man goodnight.
He really was tired. Yawning quite loudly and rubbing weakly at his eyes, Bilbo stumbled up to the platform which had become a miniature city over the years. Rows of tents formed little streets between them where people bustled about their daily lives under the faint crimson glow of the station's emergency lights. About ten or so archways cut into each wall across the station from each other and every other one was left empty to be used as walkway down into the tunnel below.
Bilbo weaved between the people, stopping occasionally to greet an old acquaintance or throw a ball back to a small child before arriving, finally, at his tent. It was a tent he shared with his god father, but because of the man's important role on the station, they weren't forced to live with anyone else. Bilbo found that a blessing, especially after long days on watch and not even bothering to undress, save throwing off his Kalash and jacket, he collapsed face first into the pillow and let sleep take him.
He'd worry about this "Thorin" later.
