Koldan, Sin and the Doomed Ship

(This is a continuation of a previous post: Connection)

  Krof focused on the baleful yellow light that came into view ahead, recognizing it for an elevator control panel. He had been this deep into the reactor level before - once. He peered around the junction to the right with his usual methodical care, then nodded toward the corridor.

  "Keep lookout."

Elevated

  His paw reached out and wiped layers of dirt and what looked like dried blood off the touch panel, then tapped the call button with a gauntleted finger. There was a rumble somewhere far below as unseen motors engaged and the summoned lift ground its way up toward them, grinding metallically from lack of maintenance. The Skoll took up position by the doors and waited, ready to fire into the elevator if anything emerged from it. He plainly did not like the tight confines of elevators, and grew vigilant every time they passed one or, even worse, had to use one.

  "Radiation shielded," he explained. "Usually restricted access. But ship security was...reset. When we tried to rebel."

  He waited some more, occasionally glancing at the bar measuring the elevator's progress.

  "Almost worked."

  Wrath followed the tall creature in the dark, feeling some kind of organic tissue under her hooves; the air was full of nasty smells, but thankfully it was not new to her, she who had spent countless hours wandering in similar places in Hell.

  She jumped when the call button beeped loudly. She was more tense than she wanted to admit, and she tried to calm down by breathing slowly. The progress bar finally reached its completion and the elevator appeared, stopping abruptly at the floor level, inviting the two souls on a creepy ride between confined walls. The demoness started to understand why this mode of transport was particularly dangerous, especially after seeing the jellies floating around.

  "A rebellion? Against what exactly?"

  She followed the Skoll on the elevator, but she peered into the corridor to make sure nothing was following them. She grabbed the wolf's arm, as if she was afraid to loose him on the 9 feet wide platform, her other hand still holding the knife. Krof stepped onto the platform, moving his weapon to rest on his shoulder in order to make room for Wrath. The ride down would require them to be very close, a situation he would probably not have objected to under normal circumstances. But now, he was too hypervigilant to pay much attention to her closeness. He waited for her to take up position with him, finger poised over the downward-pointing arrow that blinked in the haze as if winking at them.

  "Rebellion against ship. We tried to escape, make attack. Shut down reactor."

  He hit the button, and the platform began grinding downward, their vision filling with machinery-strewn shaft walls.

  "Is why there are none of us left anymore."

  He stood motionless, bands of light refelcting off his faceplate at regular itnervals as they descended.

  "When we go to Hell, I will not like it as much as you."

  Wrath pressed herself against the giant's armor, trying to find a comfortable position as the elevator started to move down. She cried as the platform suddenly bumped down a few inches, holding her unexpected companion firmer. Her horns were now tickling the base of the Skoll's helmet, but she didn't notice; she only knew that the space was limited. Her voice sounded like coming from under a pillow.

  "So the ship has a will of its own... And it obviously got worse... when everyone died."

  She wondered if the ship could be considered as a demon itself. It would not be good news if it was the case; a mad demon is definitely more dangerous than a reasoned one. She moved her body a bit, turning her shape against the black protections.

  "You know, you might have a biased vision of Hell... it is not as bad as here. You might even like it."

  But she omitted the fact that she would never allow an alien to follow her there. Krof snorted, venting CO2 through his respirator.

  "If you say so."

  He did not sound convinced. He spent the rest of the lurching descent in silence, the intimacy of their contact lessened by the fact that he was fully armored and could feel nothing. As the elevator slowed, he pushed his way past her, weapon ready to deal with the choke point at the lift's destination. His tail lashed from side to side uneasily - he definitely did not like being squeezed into confined spaces on board the ship. And with his size, he squeezed often.

  He stepped off the platofrm, his heavy boot clunking against the deck, and cautiously advanced ahead of the demon.

  "Your home may be very nice, yes," he says, continuing the earlier conversation. "But visitors it sends? Full of fire and torture."

  Wrath cringed, taking the last words spoken by the Skoll both as a compliment and an insult. She wanted to explain to him that not all demons were necessarily mindless, that he could even find some with whom he would have a wonderful time, understand how the casts were organized... and then she was stunned again by her thoughts. Why was all of this so important to her? Didn't she want, moments ago, to abandon him as soon as she could go back home? Why did the Skoll suddenly have such an importance in her heart?

  She shook  her head from side to side.

  "Zhukov... Please be careful."

  It was stupid. Weak, and stupid. They had been on full alert since they had reached the lower levels of the ship, so it was unnecessary to say these words. The corridor turned left a few dozen feet away.

  "I still can't feel anything..."

  She stepped out of the elevator, closing on the wolf. The  walls were covered in dry blood, the metal was rusty, and her hooves made a very discernible noise at each of her steps. She wished she could avoid this unwelcome sound.

Bond

  If the Skoll had heard her request for caution, he did not show it. instead, he halted at a turn in the corridor, tail still thrashing, and peered around it as if he expected to come under fire at any moment.

  "This is wrong," he states flatly, and takes several seconds to explain himself. "Was not this way before. There was service bay here, for repair drones. That work in radiation zone."

  He shook his head.

  "Has changed. Persephone, she does this sometimes. Changes, traps. Diverts. But never so much of one deck."

  He sounded almost angry, now, out of his element. A large portion of his brain was devoted to the deck plans of every known ship in his home region of space. He could walk through them as if born on them, even those he had never actually been aboard.

  But now, that was all gone.

  "She uses this...to trap."

  He glances back toward the way they came.

  "Elevator is probably not there anymore."

  Wrath looked back, and the Skoll's prediction had indeed happened: the elevator had disappeared, but worse, the call button was not there anymore. The walls surrounding the elevator arrival zone were burning in red fire, a cynical view that reminded her of the Chasm attack earlier. They were now trapped in this corridor, and their only option was to walk deeper in the entrails of the ship, offering themselves to the will of the Persephone.

  "You... didn't mention that."

  She was angry of the situation; maybe it could have been avoided if  she had been warned beforehand? ... She knew it was not the case, but it could not stop her frustration. She stepped heatedly forward, but Zhukov barred her way to keep her safe from the danger further ahead — even if it could come from anywhere.

  But in a fit of passion, she strongly pictured her pushing the Skoll aside to let her pass. She felt a wave of energy flow from her to the wolf (not literally, but she could not explain it otherwise), and his ears flattened against his head as a response. It felt very strange. And powerful, at the same time. Was her wrath still effective here?

  Krof lurched on his feet, Wrath's will funneling through the mental link that he was becoming increasingly aware of. He flattened his bulk against the wall, creating a gap for her to pass through. She had not spoken to him or vocalized her desire in any way — he had just known it, pictured it in his mind.

  "The fuck are you doing to me."

  The enthrallment, the obsession with her, was temporarily gone as his temper flared. For that fleeting moment, she was simply another seducer from Hell, and it nauseated him that he had allowed her to lure him down here, to wander the Persephone's hellishly infinite guts and die down here. Either from her fellow demons or more indirectly, from long and slow starvation.

  He had a string of mental images, which she might be able to receive as well, the bond working both ways. He was beyond caring if she saw. They involved killing her, in vengeance for this betrayal. The sound of her neck snapping as he twisted her head off with his bare hands — he had done it to humans before. Of lunging, bearing her to the ground, smashing her skull in with bare fists to conserve ammo.

  The Skoll's mind could be an ugly place, too. And his clawed hands flexed and clenched with the subconscious desire to act on his rage.

  "I did mention...that we would die down here," he snarled.

  Wrath realized at this moment the link she had with Zhukov was bidirectional.

  So that was it.

  The bond she had created with her own blood gave her control over his mind, but had the disadvantage of letting her thoughts pass through in clear. Thankfully, she hadn't thought about the worse, but they were in an awkward situation right now. Would she go through the gap or excuse herself? Which decision would have the best outcome? She was trying to solve this puzzle when her vision got obscured by an image of her covered in blood, the face barely recognizable by the hits given by the... Skoll that was sitting on her immobile body. She staggered in shock under the violence of the thought. Zhukov had almost seen right in her game, and she had to redouble her efforts to avoid him discovering the truth; she had to make him believe that he would have a chance to leave this place.

  She stepped back, pretending to be more afraid than she really was, raised her hand in front of her face, and spoke:

  "I am sorry, Zhukov. I am far from home... we are both trapped in this place and we already lived terrible moments in the Persephone... and these corridors drive me crazy."

  She pointed at the passageway behind the Skoll.

  "It will be over soon..."

  She didn't lie. She sincerely thought it was going to end soon for both of them. But maybe not in the same way. And she didn't pass the wolf, willing to show him the respect he was maybe looking for.
Krof glared at her through his optics, his battle fury throttling down, his hands ceasing to clutch at his weapon. She had expertly shown just the right behavior to sidestep his anger. The bond between them tensed, relaxed, and returned to the comforting euphoric link that it had been before.



  The mere suggestion that she was innocent, lost, confused...it was enough for him to reconsider. He was a protector, at heart, and she knew how to channel that. He stared at her for a long while, his other senses keeping watch down the corridors, until he raised his weapon again and resumed advancing down the winding maze.

  "*I* have been living moments here," he snapped, but the venom was already drying up in his voice. "You just got here."

At Hell's gate

  Something about their abrupt reconciliation felt wrong. But what didn't feel wrong down here, closer to Hell's open, festering wound.

  "You're right. I am sorry."

  She thought it was a little unfair that the Skoll didn't consider the radical change of environment she had experienced, but she had no right to be demanding at this time. But she felt the bond loosen up a bit. This was all just a game, but deep in her heart, hidden below layers of thick, insensible and bland shells, a sparkle happened, diffusing a heat that very slowly melt them.

  Wrath was attacked at the most private zone of her personality, and she knew nothing about it.

  She looked around her.

"We should probably not stay here."

  As she said that, Zhukov arrived at the end of the corridor, reaching a rusted door also covered in blood.

  "Do you know if there would be any place near the reactor where one would store small objects such as keys?"

  She didn't raise the fact that they might never reach the reactor. But who cared if it was the case. Things would have been over at that point.