TABULA RASA
Summary: Robbed of their memories, Squall and Seifer find themselves locked up, and are forced to fight for their lives. Left with no alternative, they can only rely on each other.
Warnings: Language, Violence, eventual Yaoi (male x male)
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy or any of the characters in this story, nor do I profit from writing this story.
Author's Note: [23rd of March, 2014] This story started out as a vague idea I had for a one-shot, but it quickly turned into a ten-chapter story. I have each chapter written out fully, the ending all wrapped up, and it's my intention to post regularly—ideally once every week, to every other week. This hinges on life not getting in the way with unforeseeable events of course, and on whether or not my proofreader can get through the chapters fast enough, so please bear with me if it takes a little longer. If you liked the chapter (or even if you didn't), please review after reading. Really, you'll make my day! It's always good to see signs that this fandom isn't completely dead yet.
~ Chapter One - In the Dark ~
For Chemotaxis, who is so much more than just my partner in crime.
This is for all the all-nighters we've pulled, all the support you've given me over the past years, all the fun and giggles.
It still amazes me that this friendship started out with a story review and a reply. You're the best, lieverd!
First there was the sensation of pain. A hard surface beneath sore muscles, and a headache so severe it threatened to crash the world right back into darkness. One blink was gingerly followed by a second, a third. A concrete wall was the second thing to register, along with rivulets of water that streamed down its dirty surface. An erratic flickering of cold light illuminated it just enough to see.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply a few times until the haze cleared, I pushed up gingerly and took in my surroundings. The flickering light came from a large fluorescent lamp that dangled precariously from the concrete ceiling, beyond a set of steel bars. Sparks flew from its dislodged end.
Blinking again to make better sense of my surroundings, I noticed I was wet. Moving away from the growing puddle of water, I looked up to see the source of the water that flowed down the walls: a broken pipe overhead. A large rupture ran all the way along the ceiling, no doubt the cause of all the damage. Or well, most damage anyway. The metal bars that marked the room as a prison cell sported a large dent. It glistened in the dark, but not with water.
Blood.
I spotted a set of legs sprawled awkwardly just outside my cell in the hallway, barely within my line of sight. Empty shells lay strewn all around—a semi-automatic handgun from the look of them. Standing up to walk closer and examine the odd scene, my hands were jerked back. The sound of chains clattered in my ears. Glancing down, I gave the metal cuffs a testing pull, confirming I stood no chance of breaking loose from the chains that tethered me to the concrete wall. I let them fall slack again, instead examining my cell. To my left more bars separated my own from another one, the space cast in shades and darkness. Across the hallway, more identical cells lined the opposite wall.
Where the hell was I?
I couldn't remember how I'd gotten here, or even when. With a start I realized I couldn't remember anything at all, not even my name. My head throbbed persistently, muddling my thoughts. The soreness of my body betrayed a rough handling, and I told myself I must've been hit in the head. And so, with a detachment that came easily, I pushed back the onset of panic and focused on escape plans instead. Leaning in as close as possible, I peered at the cell door which unfortunately looked securely locked.
A sudden snort cut through the silence. Whipping around to face the cell to my left, I stared into the darkness, now able to make out a faint shadow as it moved in the farthest corner.
"Aren't you handling things well," a voice spoke mockingly, the tenor deep and male. Chains rattled as the shadow gestured at our surroundings. "Like what they've done with the place?"
"Who are you?" I demanded, my muscles readying for action in spite of the bars that separated me from the stranger.
Another snort and the clinking of metal followed as the man let his hands drop back to his sides. "You missed out on all the fun," the stranger said casually, ignoring my question. The hint of disrespect was never far from his tone. "Not too sure you'd want to be on the other side of those bars."
I frowned and returned my gaze to the hallway, where the pair of legs still lay absolutely unmoving. I was looking at the aftermath of something—whether of an attack or an earthquake, I wasn't sure. What could even make a dent that large in solid steel?
"Where are we?" I asked, the man perhaps more knowledgeable about what was going on.
"Hell if I know," the voice boomed. "I was hoping you could tell me."
Falling silent at the reply, I returned my attention to my shackles. It didn't seem like the man in the other cell would be of much help. Studying the simple key lock, I figured it should be easy enough if only I had a wire or pin. The thought stopped me short. So I knew how to pick locks.
Frowning at the realization, I decided to ponder the implications at a later time. I searched the scratchy overall I was wearing, the dirty white garment obviously too big to be my own. A prisoner's garb perhaps, but the few pockets held nothing. Looking around again, I scanned my surroundings for anything I could use.
"What are you doing?" the stranger demanded.
I ignored the question and posed my own. "Tell me what happened."
Silence fell, before the chains rattled again and the stranger leaned closer. "Ask nicely," the man said, the flickering light casting his grin in wicked shades as he lingered just out of sight.
Feeling the first twinge of annoyance since waking up, I studied the man anew. I couldn't make out much in the dark, but the glint of his eyes flashed in the dark. The grin didn't fade.
"Tell me what happened please," I deadpanned, keeping my expression unfazed. Instinctively, I knew I shouldn't allow this man to get the upper hand.
He snorted, the grin twisting before retreating into the dark again. "Of all assholes to get locked up with, I get the one with a stick up his ass."
I kept my stare fixed on the corner where I knew the man to be.
A sigh sounded. "Well, Cupcake, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint. There's not much to tell."
I frowned at the nickname, the low chuckle immediately alerting me I shouldn't have. Luckily he simply continued.
"I woke up in this cell, same as you. A meal a day, lots of guards. They didn't breathe a word to me, didn't take any of my bait," he said blithely, as if discussing the weather. Something in his words warned me the guards had been wise not to fall for his provocations.
"Must've been one, two days since they dragged your sorry ass in here. Pretty banged up too." He paused then, most likely looking me over. I could feel his eyes on me.
I nodded at the set of legs. "That a guard?" I asked, wanting to interrupt the scrutinizing stare I couldn't see.
"Yup," came the gruff reply. "Good riddance."
"How did he die?" I knew the assumption was correct the moment I spoke the words. The body half hidden from sight was too still, too rigid . Another piece of the puzzle. I knew what death looked like.
The man barked a strained laugh. "Not sure what to tell you, Cupcake," he replied, seeming reluctant. "The whole place started to shake. Seemed like an earthquake at first, but then this—this fucking lion tears the place down... It tried to get at you."
"A lion," I repeated flatly, staring at the dark corner.
"Yes, a fucking lion," the man snarled. "Huge motherfucker... Shit, I think it had wings."
Frowning at the stranger's temper and tall story, I looked back at the motionless legs and the bloody dent in the bars of my cell. And then I noticed the large scratches on the concrete floor and walls. I shook my head softly, not about to let the stranger trick me into thinking they were claw marks.
Careful not to aggravate the man who was possibly mentally unstable, I asked another question. "Did anyone come to check on him? No other guards? No alarm?"
A long silence was followed with harsh words. "Fuck you too, asshole. I know what I saw."
I sighed and massaged at the bridge of my nose, before addressing him again. "I don't care what you think you saw. I need to know if the guards are returning."
That earned me his attention. "What are you planning?"
"I'd like to get out of here some time soon. Preferably before the ceiling comes down." I pointed at the concrete roof that had developed a new series of cracks and fault lines during the few minutes I'd been wasting on the stranger.
"Fuck."
I shook my hands to rattle the chains. "I need to get out of these," I continued, ignoring the colorful string of profanity that left the man's mouth upon realizing our predicament. "There's more structural damage on your end. Can you find anything in the debris I can pick these locks with?"
Another few curses sounded before I could hear the man galvanize into action. "You better not be bluffing, Cupcake," he threatened uselessly, and then there was the grind of concrete against concrete, debris being cleared as the stranger searched frantically.
I waited as patiently as I could.
"What exactly am I looking for here?" the man piped up, a note of frustration lacing his voice.
"Something thin and long. Small enough to fit in the locks. Long enough to trip them."
"Needle in a haystack. Gotcha," he grumbled. More grunts followed, the stranger's chains clanking loudly as he moved in the darkness. The sound of metal bending was followed with a loud bang, and then a piece of piping impacted loudly against the bars that separated our cells.
I raised an eyebrow at the display of brute force. Then a handful of small metal strips were thrown into my cell, the man's hand the only thing reaching out of the darkness, the rest of his frame a dark contour. "How about those?" he said, his breathing only slightly faster.
They looked like the metal binders with which the overhead pipes were held into place, but they were too thick. I said as much.
"Fuck!" the stranger cursed more loudly now, but only allowing himself the one brief interjection before starting his search anew.
The ceiling groaned in complaint, a brief tremor momentarily pausing the scurry of activity in the other cell.
"Hurry," I couldn't help but say.
"Well shit, smartass," the man growled. "What's the fucking rush—Wait," he interrupted himself. "There's wires sticking from this wall."
"Get them," I ordered.
Another angry growl sounded. "At least I'm taking you down with me if I get electrocuted," came the grumbled reply. But no static snapping of electricity followed, no smell of burning flesh. I paused at the far too vivid information my brain seemed to conjure.
I snapped to attention just in time to catch a messy tangle of wiring. "There you go, your Highness. Now get us the fuck out of here."
Pulled clear from the wall, I noted as I looked at the electric wiring. Brute force indeed. I briefly pondered the wisdom of attempting to free the stranger, but quickly postponed the decision. Picking the plastic insulation off one of the wires, I twisted the metal threads into the desired loop and eased it into the lock on my right wrist.
"Get a move on!" the man urged, clearly getting antsy as the ceiling continued to crack and groan. The water from the broken pipe was still flowing uninterrupted, the entirety of the cell floors and hallway now flooded.
After a few seemingly eternal seconds of worrying whether I'd been wrong about my assumed skill, the right shackle finally sprung free. I immediately started on the left one.
"Fuck yeah!" the man in the other cell whooped.
When both shackles fell to the floor, I rushed to my cell door, finally able to examine it from up close. Damn. With one glance I knew I couldn't bust that lock open with anything less than a spring charge.
"Don't quit on me now, Cupcake," the stranger urged. "The guard!" he added immediately, as if struck by inspiration.
Not needing any elaboration, I immediately lay down onto my stomach nearest to where the guard had fallen. I ignored the cold water that soaked through my overall and stuck my right arm between the bars to reach for the dead man. My fingers grasped at thin air, so I pushed tighter against the bars, my shoulder straining under the painful stretch, but finally I got a hold of the guard's foot. Slowly I started to pull the man into view, not wanting to exert too much force and end up with only the guard's boot in hand.
As I reeled in the guard and maneuvered him up against the bars of my cell, the water around me colored a deep red. A jolt of surprise ran through me when I cast a quick glance at the man's upper body. He was mauled beyond recognition, his torso and face a bloody mess. Farther away, the guard's handgun lay flung aside, the magazine most likely emptied if the number of shells was any indication. This man had panicked. Suddenly the lion theory seemed a lot less fanciful.
But I had no time for hypothesizing and quickly patted my hands along the man's clothes and pockets. Above us, crumbling pieces of concrete were starting to patter down into the inch deep water.
"Come on, come on," my prison mate urged from behind me. If he was at all surprised at the state of the guard's body, his voice didn't betray it.
Finally my hand closed around a set of keys. I quickly yanked it loose from the thin chain it was attached to. My hands never wavered, quickly but steadily moving through key after key until I identified the one that fit the lock type of my cell. The key was a match and the mechanic lock gave way, the bent door swinging open.
Pausing in the doorway, I turned my gaze to the neighboring cell. I knew the man was looking at me, just as he knew I was making my decision. Instead of the threat I expected for my hesitance, the man simply waited in silence.
A detached voice filled my head with warnings. From what little I had managed to gather, the man had a short fuse and was possibly suffering from hallucinations. I glanced at the guard. Or maybe not. In any case, I had reason to believe he was strong and that didn't necessarily have to play out to my advantage. There was nothing to convince me that I could trust this man not to stab me in the back once I let him out. For all I knew, we were both incarcerated criminals.
Frowning at the calculated train of thought, weighing the value of a man's life, I hesitated only one more second before I promptly ignored all my previous conclusions and strode to the man's cell door. Relieved to find that the key I'd used was a master key, I hurried into the dark cell.
"Over here," the man spoke, having found his voice again. Stopping in front of him, the rattle of his chains told me he was holding out his hands. I took the metal wire in hand and let my fingers ghost his shackles, searching for the lock opening.
"Can you do this in the dark?" he asked, sounding less insolent than before.
"Yes," I hissed. "Hold still." Larger pieces of debris were now falling to the floor, when an ominous crack was followed with a thunderous avalanche of stone, covering the area where I had been chained up only moments earlier.
I could feel the stranger's heartbeat spike beneath the hot skin of his wrists, his tendons drawn taught. "Nearly there," I said, pulling his left hand free. He didn't comment as I continued to work on his other shackle. When that one finally fell loose as well, we turned to run to the exit.
"This place is coming down!" his voice boomed, his footsteps fast behind me, disturbing the water as we ran. We passed the dead guard and bounded around the corner, only to find the metal exit door had been bent under the weight of the collapsing ceiling. I put my shoulder against it and pushed in vain. "It's jammed."
I turned around and had the first good look of the man I had set free. The first thing I saw were intense green eyes. He towered over me, his muscles thick and his skin either dirty or tanned. It was hard to tell in the flickering light.
"Move, Cupcake," he ordered, manhandling me to the side. With astounding force, he kicked against the metal door once, twice and a third time, the door denting until finally it was thrown clear from its hinges and landed farther down the hallway with a loud clang.
He flashed me a cocky grin, baring white teeth, and stepped aside to let me through.
"Ladies first."
"I'll take point then," I said dryly, casting the man a glare. Striding into the hallway, I heard a chuckle as the stranger followed close behind me. Glancing at the dislodged door as I made my way past all the rubble, I kept my expression purposefully bland, not about to betray I was even remotely impressed.
"I'll hand it to you, Cupcake. You're good with locks," the man offered condescendingly as we jumped down from the last bit of debris into an undamaged section of hallway.
"Apparently," I muttered under my breath, straightening from the crouch I'd landed in. Keeping my steps muted, I quietly jogged to the intersection ahead and kept my back pressed against the wall as I peered around the corner. A long hallway stretched all the way to the left and right. Empty, no security cameras. I waved the stranger over who had been lingering a few steps behind. "All clear."
As I stepped out into the intersection, the man joined me. He cast me an odd look, but refrained from comment.
No longer threatened by imminent burial, I took a moment to calm the racing of my pulse and considered my options. Both ends of the hallway disappeared into the distance, narrow and seemingly identical. The lights were still working in this part of the complex, but they did little to counter the claustrophobic feel of the place. Above, the ceiling and upper walls were lined with more pipes and ducts, but none of the vents were emitting fresh air. Instead, the smell of something burning came from one of the ducts to the right.
"Underground," I pointed out.
The blond man followed my gaze to the duct that was starting to spit out wisps of thick smoke and hummed his agreement. "We're at least four levels down... I think."
"You're not sure?"
The man's eyes narrowed in remembrance. "I wasn't exactly at my best when they moved me down here."
"A prison?" I asked, breaking into a slow jog to the left. Whatever fire was raging to the right, I'd rather avoid it.
"Then you're the only other prisoner I've seen so far."
That bit of news neither improved or hurt our chances of escape, so I saved the comment for later thought, when we had more information. The next intersection split into two hallways that sported several doors, possibly housing enemies, and a staircase that led to both upper and lower levels. Behind me, I could feel the stranger's eyes bore into my back.
"What?" I whispered, not yet certain the coast was clear. I turned around to meet the man's serious gaze.
"You don't remember anything either, do you?"
Wasting a few precious seconds considering whether an honest reply would work for or against me, I ground out a reluctant "no."
"Fuck," the blond cursed, running a hand through his matted hair. "This is no prison, Cupcake," he said, gesturing at our dilapidated, concrete surroundings.
Suppressing the unease that resurfaced at the man's words, I feigned calm. "We can compare notes later. Now we need to move." Clearing the coast, I moved up the stairs, careful not to alert any possible guards ahead. The man only barely bothered to lower his voice as he cursed a string of colorful expletives and followed.
He was right of course. What prison only had a few cells, and didn't line every single blind spot with security cameras? Where was the blaring of an alarm? The place screamed of disuse and abandonment, the damp and moldy concrete walls not exactly telltale of a high security facility. The lamps and electrical wiring were new, but crudely installed. An old complex then, recently repurposed.
Irrelevant. Get out first, ask questions later.
Emerging at the top of the stairs, I froze in my tracks when a scratching sound reached my ears. Pressing close against the wall of the staircase, I pulled the stranger in next to me, out of sight of whatever was making the irregular sound. Ahead, I could glance into a hallway with several doors—just like the ones in the level below. The hallway to the other side, concealed from view, was most likely exactly the same, apart from something that was pacing around leisurely. Paws, like a canine perhaps, but... larger.
I exchanged looks with the blond next to me, who raised a pointed eyebrow that said I told you so.
Frowning, I listened out for anything else that would give me a clue as to what the creature was. As I mentally prepared myself to possibly face an actual lion, however ridiculous the thought, my hand strayed to my waist, but my fingers met nothing but air. At the fruitless gesture that came as a reflex, an acute discomfort took hold of me that had eluded me before—weakness. I instantly knew I was reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. Probably confiscated then, even though I couldn't remember what weapon I was looking for.
The sound of the creature drew closer and I could even make out its breathing now, low and rumbling. Wait. That wasn't one creature drawing in impossibly loud breaths... Two—no, three? A deep snort of air sounded from just around the corner, at a height that originated from somewhere above my head.
I didn't move a muscle, a wild surge of adrenaline sending my muscles taut with anticipation. Fight or flee?
The obvious instinct should be to flee, to go back down the stairs, but we needed to go up and reach the surface. If we backtracked, we'd only run back into more collapsing rooms, and quite possibly, fires. My feet were glued in place, my mind grasping for a third option. An elbow jammed into my side, and I glared at the blond next to me.
Go, the stranger mouthed at me, jerking his head at the staircase that would take us back down. His mouth drew into a stark line when I didn't obey and shook my head instead, nodding at the hallway that would take us in the opposite direction of the creature and hopefully to the next level.
Looking at me as if I was insane, the man narrowed his eyes and closed one hand around my upper arm in an unyielding hold. Digging in my feet as the man started to haul me back the way we came from, I jerked back with more force than the blond must've counted on, because the next moment we lost our footing and stumbled a few crucial steps into the open.
We held our breaths, our widened gazes locked in a second of comprehension, and then the beast was upon us, its threatening growl erupting through the hallway threefold.
It has three heads, I registered with detached amazement, but that was all the examination I could afford before I was yanked along violently by the blond brute, down the hallway I'd been aiming for. Behind us the beast roared in anger and started into pursuit, its paws skidding along the concrete at an alarming speed. Instantly I knew we couldn't outrun it.
Most likely coming to the same conclusion, the blond randomly bashed through one of the hallway's doors with brute force, causing us to roll over the floor in a wild jumble as we missed the few steps that led down from the door we'd burst through. Impacting harshly against a wall, the wind was knocked out of me. A loud curse sounded to my left, immediately followed with mad clawing sounds and enraged snarls.
In the doorway the beast was pressing its massive bulk against the frame, failing to push through. Its three sets of red eyes blazed with bloodlust, several mouths snapping at us furiously and spattering us with flecks of saliva. The creature's putrid, warm breath ghosted my skin. About to scramble to my feet, I got dragged onto them by the blond instead, his fingers still digging painfully into my arm.
Successfully yanking myself free this time, I was rewarded with a narrow-eyed look before the blond put himself between me and the crazed beast and started to back us away towards the only other door in the small storage room. When it became apparent the creature couldn't follow after us, we exited into yet another hallway and broke into a jog.
"What the fuck was that!" he spat angrily once we'd finally covered enough distance to catch our breaths.
I glared at the man, anger mixing dangerously with the adrenaline still coursing through my system. "Don't touch me again," I bit back lowly, the man's earlier protective stance insulting. "I can take care of myself."
"Take care of yourself?!" the blond sneered as he crossed his arms in front of his chest in a pointless attempt to intimidate me. "It was cute, you taking the lead, Cupcake, but we're doing things my way now."
I clenched my fists at the blatant condescension and took a step into the bastard's space. "Get in my way again and I'm cutting you loose," I hissed. "Don't assume I can't."
The man stared at me for a stunned moment, only to bark out a derisive laugh. "For Hyne's sake, did you see that thing?! Sorry to break the news to you, Cupcake, but you look like a strong gust of wind could knock you over. What the fuck would you have done against that—that... Fuck, what was that?"
Briefly closing my eyes to force my anger down, I drew in a slow breath and considered the man's valid question. "A three-headed dog."
"We're fucked," the blond said with a disbelieving huff. "There'll be more of those things around."
I nodded, far more prepared now to take his words at face value. "A lion with wings?"
"Like I said," the man replied, slightly relaxing his forbidding stance. "And that one did fit through doors."
I shook my head, trying to make sense of the facts at hand. "Experiments then," I theorized. "Genetic manipulation. Maybe we're experiments too."
The blond scowled. "What, like clones or something fucked like that? Like hell I'm a fucking genetic experiment," he bit out, jerking his hand in a dismissive gesture.
I rolled my eyes at the egotistical reaction. "It would explain the lack of memo—"
"No!" he barked, his expression a contortion of denial.
"It would explain the lack of memories," I reiterated coolly, "but we have scars." I pointed out a rather big and ragged one that lined the blond's lower left arm. "Old ones. We're not...new."
Listening intently, the blond started to catalog the abundance of scars on his own person.
"I keep feeling like I'm forgetting things—important things. This was done to us."
Nodding slowly, the man seemed to calm down, taking my theory on board. "So then, experiments with memory?" he asked, looking up from the study of his scars to meet my gaze.
"Maybe," I shrugged. "It won't matter if one of those things gets to us, so let's go." With those words I turned into the hallway to our left, adding notes from our frantic escape to the mental map I was trying to piece together. If we kept our movements systematic, maybe we could avoid getting lost and running in circles.
"Fucking Hyne," the blond muttered, following after me. "Aren't you just a ray of sunshine."
"Who's Hyne?" I asked, glancing back over my shoulder. Receiving only a blank look, I elaborated. "That's the second time you used the name."
"...I don't know," the man said with a frown, forgetting his annoyance with me. "A god? A saint maybe. Isn't that how it works?"
Nothing useful then. I hummed my acknowledgment, leaving the blond to his musings as I assessed the risk of entering the large, open area that sat far too innocently a small distance away. I wasn't too sure whether it would be an improvement over the narrow hallways.
"Hyne," the man muttered, as if tasting the name. "Hyne," he repeated more testily. "...Feels like a curse to me."
I rolled my eyes at the announcement. "Get over here," I ordered, muting my voice.
Quietly, he moved in and towered over me from behind. Peering over my shoulder into the clearance ahead, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "You don't play well with others, do you, Cupcake." The hairs on my neck stood on end at the man's threatening proximity. "Learn to." And then he was pushing past me, strolling into the open with undue confidence.
Reminding myself I'd never have made it beyond the cell block without the bastard's help, I followed after him with a scowl. The open space was equipped with machinery I couldn't divine the purpose for, a chaos of wiring and electronics protruding from their smoking innards. Sparks flew from some of them, and as we walked, shards of glass and molten plastic crunched beneath our boots.
It was then that the lights flickered for a few beats, before dying all together.
"Fuck," the stranger cursed. "You still with me?"
Before I could answer the man's call, the telltale hum of generators kicking into gear was followed by a pale blue emergency light that shone from a few key points along the walls, near the floor. The resulting play of shadows made for an eerie atmosphere, but more worrisome, it created far too many blind spots where enemies could lie in ambush.
Joining the blond's side, we exchanged a concerned look.
"First the air circulation, now the lights," the man said. "Possibly heating as well," he added, demonstrating with a deliberate puff of breath that frosted in the chilled air. "We can't be here when the generators give out." He dragged a hand through his short hair, his shoulders tense. "What the fuck happened here."
Moving around to take in the destruction, we split up and searched for something—anything.
Rounding one of the machines, the blond stopped in his tracks and hissed a silent curse, before he moved out of sight to investigate whatever had caught his attention.
"Shit."
I followed after him, my eyes falling to a gruesome scene not unlike the dead guard I had lifted the cell keys from. Two men sat huddled together, cornered between machinery and literally frozen into a state of terror—their lips and skin were a ghastly blue, glazed over with a layer of frost. One of the two had been badly wounded, his left hand attempting to press in his entrails without much success. The puddle of blood that had formed beneath him was frozen over.
Both of us started from our study when sudden shouting erupted from behind a metal door a few steps to our right, accompanied by the loud banging of fists. Male, young, I noted as I calmed the spike of my pulse.
"Hello?! Is anybody there? Hyne, please get me out of here!"
At the familiar expletive, the blond flashed me a grin before quietly closing in on the door. I allowed myself a brief moment to wonder at how easily he'd taken the horrifying death of the two men behind us in stride. Beyond the implications to our own safety, he was just as unfazed as I was. I couldn't even muster distaste at my own lack of reaction, so instead I watched with curiosity as the blond leaned casually against the door frame and boomed with an authoritative voice.
"What's your name, kid! And how the hell did you get stuck in there?"
He sounded like a general with a particularly short fuse—equal parts authority and a promise of punishment if his orders weren't followed exactly and swiftly. The young man on the other side responded in kind, clearly used to a chain of command.
"Barnes, Sir! Engineering, team two. I swear, I had nothing to do with any of this! Please let me out!"
"I will decide on that," the blond reprimanded sternly. "Let me take a guess. The very instant one of those things showed up, you took the coward's way out. Abandoned your comrades and escaped in there. Am I right?"
A brief silence was followed by a stream of denial. "No, Sir! I was already in here when the system malfunctioned! The door closed on me before I could get out—emergency protocols, Sir! I can't override them!" The young man drew in a trembling breath. "I swear, I would've helped them if I could have... Hyne, the sounds...I didn't see, Sir, but I heard. Please let me out! I don't want to die in here!"
"Seems to me you're doing just fine, Barnes," the blond replied with a sneer. "Everyone's dead. The first person I find alive, and it's a coward from engineering." He added lowly, "How do I know you're not one of the intruders."
With raised eyebrows, I joined the blond by the door, careful to silence my footsteps and not alert the other to my presence. He was grilling the man for answers with more finesse than I'd have thought the brute capable of.
Intruders? I mouthed to him, but he just shrugged. A guess then.
"Intruders, Sir?" the locked up man replied, confused and temporarily forgetting about his need to get out. "I don't know about any intruders..." he trailed off and then added with more fear than before, "Not SeeDs, sir? That's impossible! They can't have found us. I—Hyne, are they still here? They'll kill me if they discover me! Please let me out! Take me with you!"
I exchanged a puzzled glance with the blond. Aside from strange creatures and corpses, we hadn't encountered anyone else.
Letting out a derisive snort, my companion continued his interrogation. "An engineer would only slow me down. Unless... You have weapons in there, Barnes? Anything to fend them off with, or those damned creatures? Any training to speak of?"
"I'm unarmed, Sir, but I'm fast!" the reply came swiftly, hopeful now. "Better to sneak around them anyway, Sir—them and their GFs. From what I could tell from the monitors, most of them got out."
"Your equipment still works in there?"
"No, Sir! Not since the generators gave out."
Exchanging another look with the blond, we considered our options. The man on the other side seemed harmless—a low-level grunt of whatever organization we'd gotten caught up in. I didn't want his death on my conscience if he proved to be innocent in all this, as low-level grunts often tended to be.
I gave a soft nod and gestured at the override mechanism next to the door. The blond shook his head. "We can't trust him," he hissed in a quiet whisper.
"We don't take him with us—just give him a fighting chance," I whispered back. "He's unarmed." And definitely not as dangerous as the brute who was currently staring me down.
"Sir?" the younger man piped up, his voice alarmed at not receiving an immediate response. "Come back, Sir! Don't leave me here!"
The blond cast me a dark-eyed look. "Leave no man behind, huh," he whispered, his tone derisive. "Aren't you a regular softy."
Ignoring the man's displeasure, I pulled the lid off the locking mechanism and considered the wiring inside. Definitely more challenging than the locks on our cells. The place beyond was considered more important than our confinement then, or we'd been underestimated.
"Sir?! Please, Sir!"
Scowling at me one last time for good measure, the blond raised his voice again. "Still here, Barnes. Just figuring out a way to open this damned door."
"Thank you, Sir! I won't slow you down, I swear!"
Tense with concentration as I tinkered with some of the wires, I finally found the one that would divert the electricity and unbolt the thick, metal door. I gave a quick nod and the blond stepped back, readying himself for the captive's reaction.
The door hissed as it unbolted, groaning in its hinges and swinging open to a slightly ajar position.
"Thank Hyne!" the young man exclaimed, pushing the door open and appearing in the door frame. He wasn't in any kind of uniform I recognized, his clothes dirty and mended in several places. His face was smooth and young, his brow covered with a sheen of fear induced sweat.
All relief disappeared from his face when his gaze fell on the two of us. "No..." he uttered, stunned, but instead of backing away, he drew a long knife from the back of his belt. He thrust it out in front of him, his arm trembling as he nervously slashed it through the air from me to my fellow escapee and back again.
"Calm down," I tried, holding up my hands. "We don't want to hurt you."
"So much for unarmed," the blond snarled.
"You killed them," the young engineer whispered, his voice thick with horror. His eyes flitted to where the two men lay dead amidst machinery.
"That wasn't us," I said, attempting to reason with the man. "Drop the knife and get out of here."
The engineer just shook his head, a small smile fueled by panic appearing on his lips. "Oh no, no no. I'm not that stupid." He steeled the trembling in his arm, his eyes widening slightly with determination. Not a good sign.
Next to me, the blond tensed with tangible adrenaline waiting for release. I didn't doubt he could bulldoze right over the young man and crush him against the wall, but not necessarily without receiving a knife to the gut.
"Don't—"
My warning to both men was cut short, my shout inadvertently drawing the wide-eyed man's attention towards me. His mouth opened in a cry, his knife swiping out wildly but clumsily. Something in my mind clicked into place as I sidestepped reflexively. I grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it brutally until the knife dropped into my waiting hand, and the next moment the engineer lay on the floor, twitching and gurgling blood as he nursed a throat that gaped wide. I stared down at the dying man I had been trying to save just moments earlier, surprised how easy it had been to kill.
"Damn, Cupcake," the blond cursed next to me. "Give me a warning next time, will you?"
Not bothering to point out I had tried to, I looked up and met the blond's reassessing gaze.
"You've got some blood...right there," he said drolly, pointing at my neck and face.
Glancing down, I spotted the blood that had spurted in a neat trail from the young man's slit artery onto my overall, over my chest and upwards. I halfheartedly wiped at my face, my white sleeve coming away with sticky red.
"Let's search the room," I said, nodding at the door I'd just opened.
"Right. Let's search the room," the blond repeated, mockingly blasé. He gave a low, appreciating whistle as he sidestepped the dead man and entered the once heavily bolted room.
Perhaps we were incarcerated criminals after all.
I frowned as I wiped the knife clean on my already ruined sleeve and secured it through one of my overall's belt loops. A man's death wasn't an acceptable price to win the blond's respect, but that didn't make me any less pleased to have seen the surprise in his eyes. Maybe now, at least, the bastard would be less inclined to underestimate me.
And so I followed after him, hating how I felt more assured of myself. I didn't want to kill, but I could if I had to. It was chillingly simple—my path to survival.
