祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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d e v o n
trying on a metaphor
blake kathryn
Origami Around
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#extradirty
Today's Document
YOU ARE THE REASON
JVL
JBB: An Artblog!
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noise dept.
pixel skylines
oozey mess
Discoholic 🪩
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@protoaxol
Hey guys, just letting you know that this is likely going to be my final post. I can't have the heart to tell my friends or family but if anyone close happens to see this, I am sorry. Things have gotten very stressful for me in the past few days, and I'm sure it's clear why. I hate to give into it but I just simply can't go on and live with myself knowing that this is the type of world, this is the type of government I am under. It's been nice being able to share my art here
Drill Crew B
First batch of the Beira-D crew.
Drill Crew A
Whats your au about?
Disclaimer: this au is not belonging to me! It is an AU that my friend March made.
The au is a precursor to the events of Still Wakes the Deep. It takes place in the north sea during the year 1973. A Cadal-owned drillship named the Montrose set out to the north sea during the winter to drill for oil, unsuspecting of what would happen. During the night, the ship is rocked by an explosion.
Something has boarded the ship.
POV: You're a helicopter pilot who just escaped with your boss from the eldritch cosmic horror killing all of your friends, but you hear the sound of bones cracking behind you
Some concept art for SWTD: The Deep Stirs.
I'm finally done modeling the deck! I just need to add a few details and then I can move onto the derrick! :3
DO NOT FACETIME CADAL AT 3 AM CHALLENGE GONE WRONG (CADAL 3 AM CHALLENGE!!)
Hey guys I know its been a while but I just wanted to let y'all know that I'm taking a short break from the AU to work on another project. I'm trying to model the entire Beira D in blender from scratch. It sounds like a very ambitious task, but I'd say I've had a good start so far.
Right now I am just focusing on the Deck, and from there, I will move onto the Derrick.
So just wanted to say that. I'll post updates on the project every now and then. Thanks for sticking with me.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Still Wakes the Deep: Infected by Shrooms
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Major Character Death
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Still Wakes the Deep (Video Game)
Relationships:
Ewan Muir & Terry Innes
Brodie & Raffs
Boyd & Mclurg
Characters:
Brodie (Still Wakes the Deep)
Raffs (Still Wakes the Deep)
Gibbo (Still Wakes the Deep)
I. "Trots" Campbell
Boyd (Still Wakes the Deep)
Mclurg (Still Wakes the Deep)
Alex (Still Wakes the Deep)
Muir (Still Wakes the Deep)
Innes (Still Wakes the Deep)
Roper (Still Wakes the Deep)
O'Connor (Still Wakes the Deep)
Cameron "Caz" McLeary
Finlay (Still Wakes the Deep)
Davey Rennick
Archie (Still Wakes the Deep)
Addair (Still Wakes the Deep)
Additional Tags:
Hurt No Comfort
Body Horror
Vomiting
Infection
Hallucinations
American writing Scottish Accents
Loss of Control
Drugs
Language: English | Words: 3263
Summary:
The thoughts of all the infected little men throughout the story from start to end blah blah blah
Notes:
This one is really gay And silly But still kinda gay
This is a parody of @silebee-draws's "Joining the Choir." Please go check that out if you haven't already, its really great.
Chapter 3: Trots
Trots had still been in the canteen when disaster struck. He was cleaning tables and organizing while the last three men were getting ready to leave for their work shifts. The entire rig lurched and almost everyone was knocked to the ground. Lights flickered and tiles fell from the ceiling. Roy immediately called to the others to get in the galley. Everyone managed to get in just before the ceiling in the canteen collapsed and fell onto the tables below.
“Bloody hell.. What the heck is going on?” Roy said, picking up all of the objects from the floor.
“I-I don’t know, Roy.” Trots said. This place was already a deathtrap, and this was really the last straw for him.
The room lurched again, throwing pots and pans and knocking shelves to the ground. They could hear yelling from outside, followed by a loud and rumbling BOOM from outside. Trots needed a plan, and fast.
“You guys,” Trots said, looking at the three men. “You look around up here, see if there’s anyone around. We need to gather everyone that we can in here.”
“And you?” One of the men said. “What will you be doing, boss man?” Trots was irritated by this, but he knew he had to keep his cool. “I’ll be headed up to the cabins. I’ll try to meet you guys back down here.”
The men left through the backdoor and went looking for survivors. Once they headed out, Trots told Roy to stay in the canteen and hold down the fort for a while. Trots then left the canteen and walked into the hallway. As he walked past the double doors, he couldn’t help but notice a small crack in the wall. A small moldy growth oozed out of it. He felt like he was going to boke. Fuckin’ state of this place, he thought to himself.
He reached the staircase and was about to make his way up to the cabins, but he was blocked by a large amount of debris. The stairs were completely fucked, probably not even stable enough to hold one person. He had to find another way up. However, before he could think, there was a loud crashing noise from nearby, followed by a choking scream.
It sounded like it was coming from the crew lounge. Someone was in there. Trots darted back through the hallway and into the crew lounge as quickly as he could. That’s when he noticed a bright, colorful glow coming from inside the restroom. He could hear someone, a raspy voice, gargling, gasping, choking.
“Hello? Is anyone in there? Do you need help?”
All he got in response was: “Oh god, I feel fuckin weird, mate!”
“I’m coming in!” Trots said, putting his hand on the door handle. It didn’t sound pleasant, whatever was in there. But he knew that he needed to help someone. It was his duty. He tried not to imagine what he would see on the other side of the door, but when he opened it, it was worse than anything he could have ever thought of.
When he opened the door, he was immediately greeted with a foul odor. This wasn’t too unusual for the crew lounge restroom, but this was different. And whatever was going on around the dividing wall didn’t sound any better. When he made his way around it, he saw what had happened to poor kelly. He sat up against one of the stalls, fried, fucked, and covered in a yellow veiny substance. His entire lower half was completely covered in a thick, colorful biomass. His legs stuck straight out of it. Didn’t seem like Kelly had any control of them either.
It was horrible, gory, and disgusting. But Kelly didn’t seem to mind it too much. In fact, it looked like he was enjoying himself. He was laughing, and playing with the fungus that sprouted out from his stomach.
“Aye, Trots! Y-you should try some of… this good shit, it makes you.. Feel fuckin funny, man.”
“Oh Christ! Kelly.. What’s happened to you..?”
Kelly took his arm to his chest, and plucked a small piece of fungus from the biomass. Then he lifted his arm up to Trots, as if offering some of it to him. Trots backed up and politely declined the offering. But before he could say another word, the pipes began to rattle.
“Oh shit! It’s happening again, it’s coming!” Kelly said, laughing and pointing toward the sink, smiling with stoned eyes.
“Wh-What!? What’s coming!!?? KELLY, WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?”
The sink exploded, and a thick cloud of spores burst out from the pipes, along with a giant mass of fungus and flesh. It creeped along the floor, and up the walls. Trots was caught by surprise and fell to the floor, writing in pain. Spores entered through his nose and mouth as he screamed and thrashed on the ground. Then he felt a strange sensation on his lower half. It was a sort of stinging sensation, then one of numbness. His vision warped and his ears were ringing. He heard voices yelling at him.
He tried to get to his feet, but his legs were completely immobile. Through the bubbles in his vision, he could see Kelly, who was now plucking mushrooms from off the floor and putting them in a little pile. Then he heard something from outside the bathroom. A voice, but this time he could tell it was really there.
“Trots? Trots, is that you in there? What ya doin… You hurt, wee lad?”
What the fuck kind of question was that? What did it sound like? Oh aye, I’m doing just fine, just practicing my unholy eldritch screeches in the bathroom. Trots tried crawling to the door, but the flesh held him back.
“G-Get off me… Get it off me! AAAGGGHHH, MY HAND IS SLIPPING, HELP ME!!”
At this point, Caz seemed like an afterthought. That eejit wasn’t going to be any help. Trots tore at the flesh, desperately trying to free himself. But that only made it hold on tighter. No use. He felt like he was about to explode. He tried with all of his strength to hold on, but he finally gave in.
His chest burst open. A disgusting biomass expanded from his ribcage, from which small chunks of fungi sprouted. His back gave in and a large mass grew from his lower half, completely destroying his spine and breaking his legs. He screamed in agony, destroying everything around him. He tore through the stalls, and made his way into the vent in a whirlwind of pain and agony. His vision was completely covered in colorful shapes and rainbows, accompanied by visions of his loved ones.. And Simon.
He broke through the vents and found himself in the lockers, where it happened that three men that he could barely recognize were also there. He couldn’t see anything, but he heard the men exclaim in fear. Getting in his way, that's all that these filthy animals do. He dealt with them and gave them a piece of his mind. They fell silent. Maybe they’d finally learned their lesson.
Then trots climbed back into the vents and burst through the ceiling into the laundry room, which was a fucking disaster; Machines were turned over, there was broken furniture, and there were clothes and objects littered all around the room. “Fucking disgraceful, all this mess!”
He began to tidy the place up. He picked up clothes and put them into baskets, and then put the baskets where they belonged. The constant and repetitive movement of folding clothes and putting things in their proper place calmed him down and alleviated the pain. It took his mind off things. Usually he was okay with this kind of mess. Everyone left their messes and it was up to Trots to clean up after them. But sometimes, he just hated them for it.
“Sick of them.. Sick of them all..”
Pick up.
Fold.
Wash.
“I told them it’s no right.. What were they thinkin? Cans of corned beef in the laundry, flasks all over the floor, things that were out of place, things that didn’t belong. Fucking disgraceful. No dignity.
“Filthy animals…”
He had to mop again. There was a trail of shite all over the floor. This whole room.. A fucking wreck.
“It’s no right, I tell you, Simon… It’s just no right at all…”
John, come here. It’s time you just sit back and settle down a little, alright?
“I’m only trying to make things better…”
He had spaced out for a second, and forgot what he was doing. What was it again?
Ah, yes, the wash.
He put the clothes in the washing machine, and was getting ready to start it up and move onto another load, but suddenly…
“Ck-Clack!”
Something had fallen over. Are you fucking joking? If it’s no one thing, it’s the other. This whole rig is a pile of shite and it’s already down to the bare bones. One thing goes wrong and the entire rig might just fall apart. These people only made it worse by being utter slobs with no respect or dignity. They were just pigs who did nothing but leave a mess behind. They never fucking cared about him.
He yelled in anger and slammed the washer door, also tossing a bucket out of the way. He dragged himself over to see what had caused the noise. Just the mop. Back up against the shelf you go. But just as he was about to get back to his work, another thing dropped against the floor.
It was just a white mug with the Cadal logo on it. Every Time he saw that logo, it made him just want to scream. What was this doing here anyways? Trots picked it up and placed it back up on the table. But then he heard the shuffling of boots behind him and went to investigate. Just before he saw the culprit, he heard a banging noise, followed by a bitten off curse and hurried footsteps. Trots had just barely caught a glimpse of the man with blue coveralls, a red helmet, and long shaggy hair. Mcleary! He was the one making this mess!
“GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT!!!
“FUCK! FUCKIN MOVE IT!!!!”
Trots had just about caught up to the bastard, but the slippery prick was able to squeeze through the buckled walls just before Trots could get him.
“You won’t be so lucky next time… Prick.”
Of course, now he had to clean everything all over again. Fucking pigs. He grumbled and said several naughty words as he made his way back down the steps to the laundry. “Have to clean up in here again.. No respect, no dignity.”
At least he was able to carry on without any other of his crewmates bothering him. He continued that familiar rhythm, folding laundry and putting things where they belonged. Trots was proud of himself, and when he finally got done with the laundry, he stood back and observed the results with satisfaction, but also not noticing the fact that there was water dripping down from the ceiling.
Now it was time for the cabins. When he made his way up through the vents and into the cabins, he realized that they were just even worse than utility. There were broken doors, flickering lights, and fungus seemed like it was coming out of every little space. He decided it would be a good idea to start with Andy’s room.
“Aye, making the rounds Trots? Wai-”
Trots grumbled as he organized the cabin, throwing things into place and making the bed. He put Andy in the chair and gave him a piece of his mind. Now it was time for Logan’s room, which was much easier. He threw the laundry in the basket and cleaned the desk, while also making damn sure that Logan wouldn’t be up until his night shift.
Bannon was also asleep, but his bed was a mess. How did he sleep in this filthy state? His room was a piece of shit and trash was everywhere. He didn’t even bother with the pictures all over the floor and desk, so he picked them up and threw them at Bannon.
“More mess!”
As he made his way around the corner, he noticed the bathroom door open. Needed to clean in there. Couldn’t leave it. He went in and saw Jamie, curled up in the corner. When Jamie noticed Trots, he let out a cry and tried to escape. What was Jamie even doing in there? Trots caught up to Jamie and shoved him to the floor.
“Do you have no dignity? Get back in your room and fucking learn some respect..!”
No response. He left Jamie alone, perhaps he was thinking about what he did.
“That should fuckin teach you…”
He slammed the restroom door and moved onto room 117. But the door was locked, and it sounded like it was being blocked by something. What the fuck? He couldn’t just leave it like this.
Trots took a few steps back and then threw himself into the door, breaking it down and destroying everything in the way. Shuggie and Keith both exclaimed in surprise as he barged into the room. They should have known that Trots was making the rounds by now.
“TROTS! WAIT, TH-” Shuggie yelled.
“BE QUIET, YOU PRICK!” He threw Shuggie into the chair and organized the desk, making sure it was nice and tidy. But for some reason Keith wanted him out.
“DON’T HU-”
Ungrateful bastard! Trots grabbed Keith by the neck and made sure he would shut the fuck up. He snapped and made his way out of the room. Now that that was over with, it was time to clean downstairs. He climbed into the vents and broke through into the hallway. But it was completely destroyed. The room had imploded, and the ceiling had collapsed. Had to find another way around.
He went into the crew lounge.
“Filthy disgraceful mess!” Trots said, throwing furniture about and trying to find out if there were any other slick bastards trying to hide from him. He just wanted order, he wanted someone to listen to him for once. But just before he left, the room began to shake. The beams on the ceiling buckled. The entire wall broke free, and plunged into the North Sea.
Trots was surprisingly okay with witnessing this.
He saw a bright light shining from the bathroom, similar to the one he had seen earlier that morning. He remembered that he hadn’t cleaned there yet. He tore the door off the hinges and went in, slamming into the dividing wall and almost destroying it in the process. Then he saw Kelly.
“Kelly! What the fuck are you doing in here! Get out!”
No response. What?
Why the hell was Kelly ignoring him?? The man who was once a stoned couch potato who was higher than a kite, was now a lifeless mannequin laying on the floor with limp arms and head sunken into his chest. He wasn’t responding to Trots, he didn’t even bother looking at him. What a fucking jerk!
But as trots headed over to Kelly to give him a piece of his mind, that’s when he saw something moving in the corner of his eye. His head snapped in the direction of the movement. A reflection. Of himself. His vision cleared up just enough for him to see the disgusting monster he had become.
His glasses were broken. All of his hair had fallen off, and blood was pouring down his face. His chest was torn open and all of his internal organs had been replaced with sickening, disgusting, mushy clumps of fungus. All of his insides were also covered in thick yellow veins, resembling the ones that were covering the walls. Out of his back sprouted a huge mass of the same stuff, and it stuck out almost like a beaver’s tail. It was covered in fungus and he was trailing spores and a disgusting brown juice behind him wherever he went.
He was a monster.
At this unholy and sickening sight, Trots let out an ear-piercing screech and dashed out of the bathroom, into the air ducts. There was no way he looked like that, right? Probably just another dumb hallucination. He heard Simon in his head, telling him over and over that he was the most handsome man Simon had ever met.
Is that why everyone was trying to avoid him? It’s not that they had any respect for him or looked up to him, but rather that they only cared about themselves and protecting themselves. Nobody offered help.
Bastards.
He broke through the ceiling once more and landed on the damp carpet with a sickening squelch. The hallways were completely empty and silent. Finally, some peace and quiet, Trots thought to himself. He made his way from room to room, hap-hazardly throwing things everywhere, and honestly just making it worse than it already was.
He just wanted to make things better, before the panic. Before the disaster. Trots just wanted to make it how it was.
As he was patrolling the hallways, making sure that there wasn’t any more mess or another person to ruin everything. But then he heard a Thump! Followed by a painful groan. By the strings of cursing under the person’s breath, he could easily tell it was Mcleary. That eejit was back, just to ruin things even more! What was his fucking problem!?
Trots immediately locked into hunting mode, and began to look everywhere for Mcleary. He heard footsteps near Andy’s room, but when he got there, there was no sign of Caz. He wasn’t quiet, but he was damn good at evading.
He followed the sounds of thumping vents and complaining, until they stopped at Shuggie and Keith’s room. He rounded the corner and went down the hallway.
“Urgh.. Where are you, Mcleary!”
He heard the sound of a vent creaking and snapping off its hinges. Mcleary was close. He broke down the door and finally caught up to Caz, just as he slipped into the air vents. Finally he could teach that bastard a lesson.
“YOU DON’T BELONG HERE!!”
“FUCK!” Mcleary shouted, and he began trying to climb through the vents as fast as he could.
“MCLEAARYY!” Trots called out to him.
Trots chased after Caz in the vents, but the bastard was able to slip into the vent above Bannon’s room. Great. He was just going to wake Bannon up and cause more problems. Fucking prick. Trots knew he could and would catch him eventually, because he knew exactly where he was going next. Roy’s room.
He could hear water splashing from inside the cabins. Finally, just as he suspected, he saw Caz climbing out of the vent that led to Roy’s room. Caz darted towards the stairs, and Trots gave chase. Finally, Caz slipped on a banana peel and fell. It seemed like the bastard was out of luck.
“I have to make it like it was, Caz!” Trots yelled, and the hallway collapsed around him. Debris fell from the ceiling and crushed Trots’ legs. He reached out towards Caz and yelled in pain. He was stuck.
“I-I’m sorry.. I’ve got to go…” Caz said. The last thing Trots could hear was the lad making his way up the stairs.
I just wanted to make things how they were…
I just… wanted to fix it…
Fuck you…
Tomorrow
Chapter 3 is coming soon.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Still Wakes the Deep: Infected by Shrooms
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Major Character Death
Category
Gen
Fandom
Still Wakes the Deep (Video Game)
Relationships:
Ewan Muir & Terry Innes
Brodie & Raffs
Boyd & Mclurg
Characters:
Brodie (Still Wakes the Deep)
Raffs (Still Wakes the Deep)
Gibbo (Still Wakes the Deep)
I. "Trots" Campbell
Boyd (Still Wakes the Deep)
Mclurg (Still Wakes the Deep)
Alex (Still Wakes the Deep)
Muir (Still Wakes the Deep)
Innes (Still Wakes the Deep)
Roper (Still Wakes the Deep)
O'Connor (Still Wakes the Deep)
Finlay (Still Wakes the Deep)
Davey Rennick
Archie (Still Wakes the Deep)
Addair (Still Wakes the Deep)
Additional Tags:
Hurt No Comfort
Body Horror
Vomiting
Infection
Hallucinations
American writing Scottish Accents
Loss of Control
Drugs
Language: English | Words: 2336
Summary:
The thoughts of all the infected little men throughout the story from start to end blah blah blah
Notes:
I didn't cry writing this This one was much more silly than chapter one enjoy
This is a parody of @silebee-draws's "Joining the Choir." Please go check that out if you haven't already, its really great.
Chapter 2: Gibbo
When the shape had burst through the ceiling of Engineering Operations and caught Murray, Gibbo felt bad for being glad that he wasn't the one who had been caught and turned into a moldy, mushroom-ridden pile of flesh and fungi.
Murray had been struck to the ground and held down. His screaming was muffled by a thick layer of mushrooms growing out of his mouth and throat. His arms and legs thrashed around violently, trying to rip off the fleshy biomass and fungus. Only issue was that it had grown into his skin and melded into his flesh, and used his body for energy and nutrients to keep growing. It was so beautiful, so pretty, and yet so terrifying. However, he ran out of luck when one of Murray’s flailing limbs hit a clump of mushrooms, and Gibbo knew he was done for.
The mushrooms exploded and a thick cloud of spores engulfed the entire room. Gibbo had just enough time to react to close his eyes and hold his breath. He felt the fuzzy spores cover his entire body, getting all over his clothes and burning on his skin. He couldn’t breathe no matter what. He just had to find a way out of here, and quickly. His head was pounding. He was disoriented, and couldn’t find where the door was. He stuck his hand out in front of him and hoped for the best. He stumbled over debris, and holding his breath was growing increasingly difficult. Then Gibbo tripped over one of Murray’s legs, and landed face first on the ground.
He gasped, filling his lungs with air. His throat burned and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Colorful shapes and visions of his loved ones flashed in his vision. He fell to the floor, writhing, squirming, screaming in pain. The entire Beira shook once again, and Gibbo let out a loud, painful roar that echoed throughout engineering.
His whole body was on fire. The spores dug into his skin and melded with his flesh, growing into moldy pustules, from which even more mushrooms grew. He couldn’t see anything, and he just wanted to get out. He tried to stand up but fell onto a desk, knocking it over and throwing everything on it onto the floor.
Gibbo felt sick, and boked all over himself. Then he watched in horror as the goopy mass began growing mold and fungi.
In all of the chaos, he was able to hear a voice from outside of the operations room. It sounded like Finlay. No, no good will come of her! He remembered seeing what had happened in the derrick, the contorted and twisted bodies of the drill crew as the drill was covered in a thick, disgusting mass of flesh and mold. Finlay started banging on the door, attempting to open it. Images of dead crewmates and Murray flashed through his mind. He felt corrupted, but it also felt good in a way.
“Gibbo? What’s going on in there, open the door!”
Gibbo couldn’t even form words to respond to her. All he could do was make animalistic noises as he lunged towards the door. He flew into the door and it shattered like glass. Splinters got under his skin and in his flesh. He heard her exclaim in surprise as he chased her. He couldn’t see anything, but it felt like his body knew exactly where she was and where to go.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Gibbo roared, swiping at her with his claws.
“Gibbo! What the fuck!? What the fuck’s wrong with ye!?”
“DON’T LOOK AT ME!! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!!
Finlay went around the corner and slipped into another room, barricading the door. He didn’t even know what he was trying to accomplish there, he just wanted her out of there. He felt so powerful.. So strong..
His head snapped in the other direction, and his whole body turned to go that way. He ran recklessly through the halls, knocking things over and running into things. All he could do was cry and scream as each part of his body started feeling less and less human. Gibbo’s hands felt like sponges, but they stuck to everything they touched. He realized he could reach long distances, grab onto anything he wanted.. He didn’t even need his legs anymore.
Gibbo felt like he could go anywhere and do anything he wanted. It almost felt euphoric. He found himself back in Engineering Operations. What remained of Murray had stopped moving. Murray was gone. He could hear voices, only now he could make them out clearly. These ones were real, unlike the others. Finlay and Caz. Great, now there was another eejit down here, why couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone!
In anger, he began to destroy everything in the room. He threw a desk and shattered the window. He knocked over a filing cabinet and tore into the control panel. His vision cleared up just enough to see a flashlight moving around in the dark, as well as approaching footsteps. He had to get the fuck out of there. Thinking quickly, he noticed a hole in the ceiling. His tendrils latched onto the panels and he pulled himself up just in time.
“Mum.. Please.. Mum!! AAGGHH! It hurts! Make it stoppp!!!”
Her voice echoed through his mind, and he saw visions of her face through the oily bubbles in his vision. What was real anymore? He saw dark hallways, dead coworkers, the drill, everything he had experienced throughout the day.
He didn’t even know where he was going. He felt his body taking itself towards something, towards a goal that was just out of reach. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew that it would help him.
“Wh-What? Gibbo? Fuck, is tha- Wait, Gibbo, WAI-”
Slam.
Something happened, and everything went quiet. His vision started to clear up for a few seconds, and for a brief moment, he saw Douglas’s cold, dead face.
“D-Douglas…?” Gibbo stammered.
Douglas’s hand slipped away, and he fell down into the hatch. Gibbo’s tendrils shot out and latched onto everything nearby. “No.. NONONO!!! DOUGLAS!! IT WASN’T MY FAULT, I DIDN’T DO IT!” This was some sort of fucking nightmare, right? He didn’t want to do this. No. This wasn’t his fault at all.. Right?
Gibbo bewgan to sob. He wanted to do nothing but curl up and die. He couldn’t fix it. It was a fucking nightmare, this whole thing. He just wanted it to end. Gibbo broke down, continuing to sob. Images of his mother, his kids, his wife.. They wouldn’t stop flashing in his vision.
Then he heard the sound of a door opening and closing. Fuck, no, he couldn’t let this happen to another person, fuck that. He felt his body urge to go in the direction of his coworker, but he resisted. He held himself back, retreating to the shadows. Gibbo realized a way out of this, he could try to lure the coworker out. But how? If he got anywhere near.. Well.. He didn’t know what would happen.
When the person came into view, he jumped out in an attempt to scare them off.
“AAAGH!! NO, NO GOOD WILL COME OF THIS!”
“What the fuck is that!?” Caz exclaimed, stumbling into one of the lockers that were up against the wall. He slammed it shut, and stayed quiet. Gibbo could clearly see him enter the locker, and the light from Caz’s helmet was visible from across the room. What the fuck was his plan there?
Still sobbing, but now angered, he continued to try coaxing Caz into leaving. But every scare, every shout, every beg he made was simply only met with McLeary talking back with concern.
“D-Don’t come in here..!”
“It’s right pal.. I'm.. staying here.”
Something about Caz didn’t seem right to Gibbo. He didn’t look alright either. He stumbled along with a slight limp. Talking about someone named Suze, and something about Gibbo being some sort of monster. A monster? Without Caz noticing, Gibbo climbed a ladder to the water tanks, and hid in the shadows. Caz climbed up and opened the hatch and climbed down the ladder. Gibbo felt his body lunge towards Caz, and he used all of his strength to not grab Caz.
“I said.. STAY AWAY!”
He dashed at the entrance, but ended up slipping on a discarded banana peel. In an attempt to stabilize himself, one of his tendrils grabbed onto the latch and closed it. Caz was knocked off the ladder and fell, but when Gibbo heard the incessant cursing, he knew Caz was fine.
“No! NonoNONOO!!!” Gibbo cried out, trying to open the hatch.
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT!! NOT MY FAULT!!!”
“Gibbie? What you fuckin.. Do, mate?” Then Caz saw the body, and exclaimed in shock and fear. Gibbo knew he was cooked.
“Douggy, no.. You cannae..”
It's too late now. Have to hide, he’s seen what Gibbo’s done. Gibbo climbed down from the water tanks and hid in the shadows once again, hoping Caz wouldn’t see him. The thing is, Caz stayed in there for quite some time. So much time in fact, that Gibbo was starting to think that Caz somehow drowned in there or something. He was growing impatient.
Finally, Caz emerged from the water tank. He held something large and orange in his arms.. But Gibbo couldnae tell what it was. His vision was growing blurry at this point, accompanied by the colorful shapes and visions he saw. But Caz was going to tell everyone what he had done..
“I-I’m sorry..” Gibbo said, crying.
He watched as Caz made his ascent up the stairs, still carrying that.. That thing in his arms. Hallucinations of Douglas’s face flashed in his head. The bubbles continued to swirl around, in an almost mesmerizing way.
“I-I didn’t want to… I keep seeing his face…”
He was going to be alone down there. He didn’t want to go anywhere near his coworkers, but he also didn’t want to be left alone in the dark down there. He yearned for company, he needed someone to be there for him.
“D-Don’t leave me! I don’t know what to do, PLEASE!!!”
Images of his mom, his family, and all of his friends went through his head, as if to taunt him with a promised freedom and a sense of safety. He just heard Douglas talking to him, over, and over.
“Tell my mum, tell her… I’ll be hame soon.. Tell her!”
He heard the hatch open, followed by the door slamming a few seconds later. It echoed across the water tanks. Now he was in complete solitude. Gibbo was alone. He didn’t see another person for hours. It was good in a sense, being spared from having to endure the horrors of killing more of his close friends. Apart from the distant roars and howls from above, and the occasional yells, there was no sign of life down there. Only a bloody trail and Murray’s decomposing body..
It didn’t take long for Gibbo to make his way back to gas separation. He wandered aimlessly through the tight hallways and the dilapidated rooms. Pipes were burst and gas leaked everywhere. He saw visions of Douglas talking, and his mother, waiting at the door as he waved goodbye to his friends.
“Knox! Come inside now, supper’s ready now.”
“Aye, I’m coming, Mum!”
“Well hurry up, otherwise it’ll get cold!”
He walked through the halls, his body taking him along with the long fleshy tendrils as familiar and unfamiliar memories played through his head over and over.
“It’s okay, Knox. Don’t listen to those eejits, they’re just bullies.”
“Thank you, mum. I love you.”
“Don’t touch.. The water…”
“Wh-what?” Gibbo said, suddenly snapping back to reality. His legs felt cold and wet, and he realized he was standing in a foot of water, and it was rising.
Engineering was flooding, and it was flooding fast. He didn’t know why, but he knew he didn’t want to be anywhere near the water. It made his skin crawl… or at least what was left of his skin. He was in gas separation at the time. Pipes began to burst all around him, it was pouring down from the ceiling and the walls. By the time he found an exit, the water was already above the tanks.
Gibbo climbed through the tight hallways, and found himself running above the cramped pipes and past the water tanks. Everything was collapsing around him, and he couldn’t be distracted. He needed to get up to the exit. He couldn’t look back. The stairway shook, and it began to collapse under him, but he was only seconds away from the exit.
Then the staircase fell from underneath him. Gibbo realized that it was too late. But he felt something inside him, he felt his body react to the sudden loss of a floor, and his tendrils latched onto the platform, pulling him back up. He didn’t realize it at first, but the fungus had just saved him. He would have died otherwise.
He made his way to the door, and opened it up. That’s when Gibbo learned the true extent of the destruction. It wasn’t just engineering. It was the whole rig. Walls were buckled, ceilings had collapsed, and there was just so much mold everywhere.
Then he heard voices. People! Finally! But he couldn't go to them.. He felt like he just wanted to go to them.. And.. and do something.. He didn’t know what, but knowing what happened to Douglas, he didn’t want to find out. He stayed at the staircase, hiding behind the wall. There were consequences to be had if he was seen. They would hate him, they would kill him. He was a monster, he killed someone!
While he was considering, it was already too late, because that’s when he heard the sound of someone nearby calling his name from the other end of the hallway.
SWTD: Infected by Shrooms Chapter 2 is coming soon! Probably tomorrow or Wednesday!
If still wakes the deep took place in modern
Mushraffs
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Still Wakes the Deep: Infected By Shrooms
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions of Violence
Major Character Death
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Still Wakes the Deep (Video Game)
Relationships:
Ewan Muir & Terry Innes
Brodie & Raffs
Boyd & Mclurg
Characters:
Brodie (Still Wakes the Deep)
Raffs (Still Wakes the Deep)
Gibbo (Still Wakes the Deep)
I. "Trots" Campbell
Boyd (Still Wakes the Deep)
Mclurg (Still Wakes the Deep)
Muir (Still Wakes the Deep)
Innes (Still Wakes the Deep)
Alex (Still Wakes the Deep)
Roper (Still Wakes the Deep)
Cameron "Caz" McLeary
Finlay (Still Wakes the Deep)
Davey Rennick
Addair (Still Wakes the Deep)
Additional Tags:
Hurt No Comfort
Body Horror
Vomiting
Infection
Hallucinations
American Writing Scottish Accents
Loss of Control
Drugs
Language: English | Words: 2,563
Summary:
The thoughts of all the infected little men throughout the story from start to end blah blah blah
Notes:
I cried writing this. Probably shouldn't read this if you have a soft stomach. Also, sorry Raffs. For this starting out as a parody, I think i got carried away with this one. But I swear the next one will be better. This is also my very first fanfic, so let me know if I suck
This is a parody of @silebee-draws's "Joining the Choir". Please go check that out if you haven't already, it's genuinely amazing.
Chapter 1: Raffs
Raffs had felt it when everything went to shit. Everything seemed to be going almost perfectly. Each step was planned carefully and executed with precision. He was feeling a lot better than he had earlier. The nervousness that plagued Raffs’ body earlier had almost completely faded away. He felt confident, brave, and he was proud of himself.
But then the entire world lurched around him. Raffs was thrown from the bell, and his tools were knocked right out of his hands. His vision was suddenly covered in colorful, oily bubbles. His head felt light, and it hurt like hell. His ears were ringing, but he could hear a faint rumbling coming from above.
Raffs immediately stopped what he was doing and swam towards the dive bell as fast as humanly possible. As he got closer to the dive bell, his body felt weaker with each passing second. He could hear Brodie’s voice. He was telling him to stay calm, not to panic. Raffs’ head was pounding. His view was slowly being obscured by more colors and images of his mother and Brodie.
Thinking about them made him feel better, made him feel like he could just let go. He saw Brodie, sitting next to him on the couch in the crew lounge. They sat laughing, telling jokes and drinking hot chocolate.
Focus, Raffs.
He kept pushing on. The dive bell was only a few feet away from him, but to him it felt like it was miles away. He was almost there.. Almost…. There…
His eyelids were feeling increasingly heavier. He couldn’t give up now. God, his head was splitting. It hurt so much.
“Raffs, you got this mate. I’m here for you, alright?”
Everything moved again, and Raffs was slammed into the bell, hurting his arm. He yelped in pain, and snapped back to reality. Now, with the remaining adrenaline he had, he pulled the hatch open with incredible force, and almost ripped it right off the dive bell.
He pulled himself inside and slammed the hatch behind him, sealing it shut. He pulled off the mask and threw it on the floor. Finally, he was safe. He still felt weak, but his vision was clearing up. He sat down on the seat and put his hand on his head. It hurt so bad. He just wanted it to stop. As Raffs collected himself, he noticed something in the corner of his eye.
Something colorful. Something.. Beautiful.
From the edges of the hatch, there was a colorful, shiny substance growing. It creeped along the walls, climbed the ceiling, and covered everything it touched. Raffs backed up against the wall as far as he could from.. That.. That thing…
As it creeped closer to the diver, it shined brightly, putting him in a trance. It was so pretty, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He could hear Brodie’s voice again.
“Raffs, I’ve got ye, alright. You’ll make a great diver, I promise.”
And then it stopped growing. It had covered almost a third of the bell in colorful mold. Raffs let out a sigh of relief. However, the moment only lasted for a few seconds, because he noticed something else growing out of the biomass. Small white shapes poked out of the shape. Raffs moved a bit closer, trying to figure out what it was. He could still see, but images of Brodie and his mom obscured his peripherals.
Then he finally saw what the white things were.
They looked like… Mushrooms?
As Raffs stared at them, he felt a sense of euphoria. He felt good. His headache was fading, and it felt like his brain was being flooded with a good feeling. He wanted to get closer. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to be part of it. Without him even realizing, his left arm lifted, extending in front of him. He raised his hand up to the mushroom. He felt so good. Then he laid his hand on the fuzzy mushroom, stroking it softly.
And then it exploded.
A white cloud of spores engulfed the entire interior of the bell, covering Raffs head to toe in a thin layer of white fluff. It filled his mouth and nose, and went right into his eyes. It tasted absolutely foul. He sat there for a second, trying to process what had just happened. It caught him by surprise. Then it registered that he was in pain.
“Agh! AAAGH!!! OH GOD, HELP ME!!! AAGGHHH!!!
He fell back, coughing and choking as he struggled to move. He felt it filling his lungs, getting into his blood, flooding his entire body. Everything burned. He boked all over the floor, vomiting a white mushy mass that hit the floor with a sickening squelch! God, it hurt, it hurt so bad. His left arm ached, yet felt numb at the same time. It felt like something was crawling under his skin, getting ready to burst out at any moment. Brodie was up there, right? He was going to save him..
..Right?
“HELP ME HELP ME!!! AAAGGGHHH!!! IT HURTS, HEEEELP!!
Raffs thrashed around, slamming himself into the walls in an attempt to alleviate the pain he felt all around his body. He saw images of family and friends flashing too fast for him to comprehend. He could hear Brodie, reassuring him that it would all be okay, that it would be over quickly. He felt so light, yet so strong at the same time. In the craze, he didn’t even notice that the pain was slowly fading away.
His hands were getting bloody now. With each and every punch he felt stronger and stronger, eventually with enough force to dent the inner walls and destroy the equipment.
“Calm down lad, it’s going to be alright, I’ve got ye.”
“BRODIE!!! BROOODDIEEE WHERE ARE YOU!! HELP ME!!!
“Shshshshshsh.. Calm down, laddie. I’m here.”
His entire body felt numb at this point, even while he started throwing himself against the portholes and hatch. For a brief moment, the bubbles in his vision moved aside just enough for him to make out the fact that the bell was now above water. But Raffs didn’t care. He wanted Brodie. He NEEDED Brodie! Why was he no helping!
Eventually, the bell finally lurched to a stop, slamming against the brakes. Raffs was thrown to the floor, and wailed in pain. Then he heard a voice, a voice there for him, to help him, it would be okay, it would all be okay, Raffs. But this time he could tell the voice was real, just outside of the bell.
“Raffs! It’s Brodie! I’m here!”
“BRODIE HELP ME! GET ME OUT!! GET ME OOOUUUT!!! I FEEL WEIRD, BRODIE!”
Regardless, he continued to throw himself against the bell anyways. As he did that, he got another glance at the stuff on the wall. That stuff… That’s the weird shite that caused all of this! It’s that thing’s fault, not his!
He lunged forward, almost running headfirst into the rainbow flesh. It needed to pay for this, for what it had done to Raffs. Everything was perfect, it was so perfect and good, and everything was going so well..!
Raffs began tearing at the flesh like a rabid animal. Pieces of shredded flesh flew everywhere as an oily substance splattered all over the walls and all over Raffs.
He didn’t stop, he just kept going. He wasn’t going to stop until there was nothing left of the biomass. He kept shredding it until there was nothing left of the mass, all that remained were some small chunks of mold, viscera, and oil covering the walls.
Then Raffs’ head snapped back towards the hatch. Out. Get out. He threw himself into the hatch and desperately tried to open it. He tried everything to open it, but it was stuck fast. He was screaming, sobbing, and crying as he tried to tear it off the hinges. He needed someone to help him, he just wished someone was there for him. That’s when he heard voices from outside the bell having a conversation. Raffs listened to the conversation as he began trying to tear through the walls.
“Wh.. goi.. on Brodie, wh……. happened?
Raffs could just barely make out what they were saying. The voice on the other side sounded familiar, though, as if it was someone who he had just spoken to earlier.
“I don’t… right? The dr…. something.. gas explosion..”
They were just outside of the bell. Just outside of reach. Yet it felt like they didn’t even notice him, as if they didn’t even care. Those fucking BASTARDS! He yelled and screamed in anger and pain, trying to catch their attention, but to no avail. But then someone finally noticed, it was Brodie. Brodie!
“Raffs, I’m here! I’m going to get you out, alright? I’ve got ye!”
BRODIE! Where was he, that bastard? Fucking Brodie, he abandoned him, he left him to rot. He left him to die out there. He never cared about Raffs. The diver continued slamming against the bell, doing anything to get out there to Brodie. He tried to shout insults at Brodie, but all that came out was gibberish to brodie.
“B-BrodIEEEE!! DON’t Do thiS TO MEEE!!!!”
Raffs lunged against the hatch one more time, and finally it broke. Shrapnel flew everywhere as the door was dislodged. When the hatch flew open and slammed against the bell, Brodie could finally hear and see Raffs clear as day.
“Brodie…!! WHY!!?? Don’t leave me, PLEASE!!!”
“F-Fuck.. Raffs?” Brodie stammered. His voice cracked as he tried to swallow. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
“Yo-You said you would BE THERE FOR ME!!!”
Raffs clawed against the opening of the dive bell, trying to pull himself out, and ignoring all of the other pain he felt. His skin and flesh tore against the hatch, but he kept going. He needed Brodie.
“Raffs.. Oh man..” Brodie said as he stared on in horror. Blood poured down Raffs’ face, filling his nostrils, burning his eyes, and clogging his throat. His entire dive suit was completely destroyed, shredded and beaten.
He was covered all over in blood and small mushrooms. His left shoulder and arm looked like it had completely exploded with fungi, small mushrooms and veins covering his neck and back. His entire lower half was completely gone, replaced with a large mass of flesh, fungus, and viscera.
It was horrible. How could he have let this happen to Raffs..?
“B-Brooodiieee… Whats.. Happening?
“God almighty.. Fuck..” Brodie took a step back. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to not break down in front of the lad. Raffs made his way out of the bell and fell down onto the deck, groaning in pain and sobbing. He trailed blood and a rank brown liquid behind him as he pulled himself closer to Brodie.
Why was Brodie moving away from him? Didn’t he want to help him! He wanted to help, right? He was going to help him!! Now!!! His arm was weakened. He couldn’t move any farther. What had become of him? Raffs broke down sobbing, choking and coughing while tears flowed down to his cheeks and onto his chest.
“Brodie.. P-Please!!” Raffs said, coughing up blood and groaning in pain. Brodie fought hard to not start sobbing along with the lad, and Raffs could tell. Brodie didn’t want to make Raffs feel worse. He wanted to be a role model, someone who he could always look up to and trust. But he knew he couldn’t fight forever. He took a deep breath and kneeled down to Raffs.
“Shsh… It’s okay, Owen.. I’m not going to leave ya.”
Raffs whimpered in pain, and what started as a small whimper turned into a loud, ear piercing wail. Brodie’s heart shattered at the sound, and his eyes teared up. He wiped away the tears, and sniffled. Raffs extended his arm up to Brodie, as if begging for mercy.
Brodie wanted to talk, but his throat was shut. He couldn’t speak.
He put his hand in Raffs’ hand. “Look, Raffs. I.. I-I’m going to help you, alright? I.. I’m here..” He swallowed. “I’ll go get help, alright? I’ll come back, lad.”
Raffs looked up at Brodie with crying eyes. “You promise..?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t ever abandon you, alright? I love you, Owen.”
Raffs tried to form a smile, but he couldn’t. Brodie could tell he at least tried, though. He stood up, and made his way to the ladder.
“Bye, Brodie..” Raffs said. His voice was raspy, and he was losing control of his vocal cords. Brodie was just close enough to hear him say that. He made his way up the ladder, and turned to Raffs just one last time. Raffs could barely lift his arm anymore, at most a few inches. He lightly shook his arm to wave at Brodie, and his arm fell to the floor, going completely limp. Brodie waved back, and began to cry. He walked along the platform and disappeared from Raffs’ view.
Raffs… Was happy. Brodie was going to come back, he was just going to get help. It was nice to know that at least someone still cared for him. Someone still loved him. As the mold creeped up his neck, the images of him and Brodie sitting in the crew lounge came back. Brodie kept telling him how much of a good lad he was. Raffs took another sip of hot cocoa. It felt good in the cold, numbing air. It was sweet, and it filled his chest with a warm feeling.
“Raffs, I wouldnae ever leave you. You know that, right?”
He tried to speak, but couldn’t. All he could do was look at Brodie with crying eyes. It began to rain heavily now. The water only made the stuff grow faster. As time went on, the hallucination became more and more distorted. Brodie stopped talking and the crew lounge began to shift and turn. The screen became static and the table disappeared. Eventually, there was no more crew lounge, just Raffs and Brodie sitting on the couch in silence. Brodie turned to Raffs one last time.
“I’m sorry, Owen.. It’s.. It’s time to l- let g…oo…”
Then Brodie and the couch faded away.. It was growing increasingly inevitable to Raffs at this point. He didn’t want to think about it. But he knew it was true. It was okay, nonetheless, maybe.. Maybe this was for the better. Raffs closed his eyes once more, and smiled. Raffs shed a tear. It rolled down his cheek, onto his chest, hrough the grate. Then it was just another drop in the rainstorm.
The rig shook over and over, and Raffs didn’t mind how increasingly unstable it was becoming. As long as Brodie was alright. He kept hearing Brodie’s voice from earlier repeating over and over in his head. It was comforting to him. Even if he wasn’t there with him.
When the rig shook once more and the metal screeched, the pipes fell and the lights flickered. Raffs was happy.
When the beams buckled and the screws broke, the ropes snapped and the deck tilted. Raffs was happy.
When the cold air rushed past him, when he was just another drop in the rainstorm, he was finally free. As long as Brodie was fine, as long as he made it..
Raffs was happy.