And finally, #34 with BimDark!
Two in one day?! Have some more Among us au!
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Prompt 34: “It’s okay. I brought two.”
“Do you see anything?” Bim hissed, trying to concentrate, even as his gloved hands shook too hard to properly weld the plating back over the wirebox. Every creak or otherwise normal space-ship noise made him jump, and he gave every vent a wide berth, certain that, any moment, the last imposter would come lunging out of it. “Dark?”
“If there were something to see, I would have told you!” Dark snapped, irritation muffled by the opaque screen of his helmet. He came over, boots clanking over the metal floor. “Aren’t you done yet?” He demanded, hovering over Bim’s shoulder. “We don’t have much time.”
“I know! I- fuck!” The welding torch overloaded, sparking and fizzing wildly. Blind panic swept over him and he hurled the torch away from him; it hit the wall with a deafening thunk and fell to the floor, dead.
“What the fuck are we going to do now?” Without the torch, he couldn’t finish his task. Without that task, they couldn’t keep the ship running and the imposters at bay.
He could practically hear Dark’s eye roll, and a few moments later a new torch was pressed into his hand. “Don’t fret, Trimmer. I brought mine.”
Bim breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to the nearly-covered wirebox. He was almost done. Then they could leave electrical. Then they could rejoin the others. “Hey,” he remarked, after a long silence, “do you really think the doc was an imposter? Like, could he have really killed Host like that?”
There was a pause. “There was too much evidence.” Dark grumbled, seeming irked by the question. “You did vote for him.”
“Everyone voted for him.” Bim pointed out, snapping off the torch. He happened to glance at it as he handed it back to Dark, noticing with a jolt that it wasn’t black, like Dark’s should’ve been. It was brown.
Like the Host’s.
He registered this at the same time the lights above them flickered. He glanced up. They went out.
Dark stared at him.
“Dark?” He whispered, but he would receive no answer. Not in words. He could only watch as a gaping maw opened in Dark’s chest, gleaming with rows of wickedly sharp teeth dripping with viscera. A long, forked tongue immediately lashed out, wrapping around Bim’s chest and arms and squeezing him tight, forcing out a choked gasp. “Dark-!” Was all Trimmer managed to get out before he was gone, sucked into the wide, monstrous mouth.
Ten minutes later, Wilford and Google Blue would come looking. They’d fix the lights, restoring power to the entire ship. They’d look for Bim, knowing he’d come to electrical to finish a task and knowing no one had seen him come out again.
They’d find a dark splash of blood on the wall, thick with offal and bits of gross matter, and they’d know. Immediately, they’d know.
Wilford and Blue would share a glance, and Blue would hit the Report button, the same button every single crewmember had installed into their suit.
Let the discussion begin.
