Free Usu by Jayde Ver Elst Page B

had covered a tremendous distance before a crack was heard and the device shattered completely. Mercury explained the situation to the others. “We should be directly above it now, I’ve got one more of those but, well, best we save that for making our trip back a tad less of a crotch shot.” Now, they knew, came the somewhat less pleasant part.
    The 'less pleasant part' was that, by design, the bubbles based their physical buoyancy on the mood of the respective suicidee. Should they truly wish to end it all, sinking was inevitable, but second thoughts or that fiendish thing we call hope, well, then it would rise to the surface and pop, giving them a few precious moments of life’s blissful struggle before promptly drowning to death. This did pose a minor problem, in thanks to Usu’s stalwart nature and Rain’s love of everything, which were surely flight risks. However, they were in luck having chosen a prototype model with a very special feature to ensure automated sinking. A large portion of the vessel changed before Usu’s eyes, transparency was replaced by opaqueness. It began flickering, and static fumbled like maggots playing tennis for a bit before a human appeared, long blond hair, a muscular frame, standing before an anesthetized crowd.
    That moment, and several hundred thereafter, they would learn true terror, true fear, and true disdain as they were forced to listen a cacophony of screams and moaning playing over a video recording of Michael Bolton live in concert and on repeat. Unfortunately, all of the overdubbed shrieks and death rattles could do little to drown out his Dolby digitally enhanced voice.
    They sank, and sank further still until, dazed and confused, without mental mettle or hope in heart they were sucked down within a tunnel and emerged into the dim light of salvation. The song stopped as each occupant crawled out onto the hangar's metal skirts. Even Mercury couldn’t maintain her fa ç ade, throwing up some strange black bile away from the stumbling Usu and teary-eyed Rain, who could only mumble, “Why are there bad men like that Snow? W-Why must they hurt Rain?” with an innocent pained look that could almost put her dire future at second fiddle.
    The loading bay they found themselves inside of was―perhaps evidenced by the suction tunnel―not one intended for humanoid entrance, and probably even less so for that of a stuffed rabbit. The room held barely enough solid steel ground for them to regain their not-so-proverbial bearings, most of it awash with a dense water that reeked with a promiscuous blend of antiseptics and iron. A far too familiar smell to Usu, from long-gone days when blood and metal held him firmly in their grip.
    Yet, despite smells or horrendous transportation methods, the facility retained a pristine quality about itself. Not a light was broken nor a sign askew. Even the laughable idea of a pressurisation chamber held them for a few peaceful hours before Modbot accidentally ripped the door off whilst ever more accidentally having it hit the automated comm speaker. Means and methods behind them now, they were inside and well on their way to making some form of progress, that is until Usu’s foot took yet another fateful step.
    With one movement, a simple paranoid attempt to check around a corner before facing it, the very tile he stood upon began to emit light, spreading across the room like wildfire until, at it’s climax, the light burst, giving way to darkness. Faint mumbles echoed across the hallways as faint, ghost-like holograms began trudging along in lab coats, some arguing, some laughing, some making dinner plans. It felt alive, as alive as anyone else there at least. But it remained only a memory, a fragment of time preserved for some unknown purpose. A fragment that pulled at something inside Usu, and twisted something inside Rain. There was great sadness here, and it resonated deeply within both of them, so much so that their eyes didn’t even need to