Content warnings for gore, descriptions of a corpse, drowning and general horror themes.
I promise my other fics won't be horror related, I just had a good horror idea for this prompt
Everything was a blurry haze, any sounds were just muffled, being beaten out by the intense rigging that overtook Brigitte’s ears and the labored breaths as if she had a mammoth on her chest, crushing her lungs. Was that shouting she was hearing? A waterfall? She wasn't sure, to be honest she wasn’t even positive that everything around her was real. Focusing more and she was able to process the water rapidly filling the cave but the ringing in her ears and heavy breathing persisted, preventing any sound from being understood.
She slowly and shakily raised her hands into her line of sight, shaky and covered in a red, viscous substance and smelling slightly sweet and metallic.
Brigitte’s breath quickened, faster and raspier, desperately trying to fill her lungs as the water began to rise to her feet at an alarming pace.
Looking up onto the scene before her water, now to her knees, everything appeared to be spinning rapidly, fuzzy and unidentifiable. She squeezed her eyes shut in hopes it would stop the dizziness but it only caused her to sway, snapping open her eyes as she began to fall face first into the quickly rising water.
Anxiety filled every ounce of her body as she inhaled massive gulps of water, but something was wrong. With every attempt at a gasp for air, Brigitte was instead with a sharp metallic taste filling her mouth and lungs. She began to flail and scream against the liquid and any attempt at opening her eyes was met with nothing but a vision of dark red making her feel the need to scream until her lungs gave out, but with every attempt the sick, sticky metallic liquid would force itself down her throat.
The constant flailing against the thick liquid, she began to feel it come up over her other head, she couldn’t tell if it was the fluid rising or her being dragged under.
Brigitte fiercely kicked her legs in a feeble attempt to swim but they felt bound by some sort of force stronger than herself.
Looking down her body she saw a hand. A hand bloated and decayed, swiftly followed by a second one reaching through the murk of the fluid as the figure began to slowly climb up her body and pull her deeper and deeper into the flood. The skin dark and cold, bloated and descended almost as if the very flesh of the body was making a desperate attempt to remove itself from the skeleton beneath. The hands grip were as cold as death itself, and she could feel the click of the joints popping and cracking against the rigor mortis having taken hold of them. The body’s nails, piercing through her armor and digging into her warm flesh.
The first hand releases from her ankle before quickly gripping her hip with enough force to make her think it was trying to rip her leg from her body.
The second hand following suit gripped painfully at her waist, digging its grotesque, mangled fingers through her armor and ripping at her vulnerable flesh. Gripping with such force Brigitte could feel her skin being torn, almost like old paper.
The body was hoisting itself up, pulling Brigitte down in the process, it’s body contorting in an unnatural fashion with the state of decay, squeezing itself to Brigitte’s own body, getting dragged closer and closer she began to recognize this body. The corpse let out an attempt at a breath, foul black fluid escaping his bloated and decaying maw, the jaw unhinging, feeling the sickening crack reverberate through the fluid surrounding them both. The hands release their rigid grip only to tear at her upper arm and yank her down further, to the point she could taste the foul, sickly sweet tasting rot past the metallic pang of the liquid surrounding them both.
Brigitte stared at the body’s face, the skin sloughing off his mouth contorts in what appeared to be a feeble attempt at forming words. With every bit of skin that tears off the face, more black decayed blood and liquified flesh and gas would escape from the gap between the decayed skin and bone.
More and more of the body’s skin floated off his body and disappeared into the murk, the body’s armor loosened as the flesh it was once housing began to lose mass and float away. The body’s mouth contorts further and after his many attempts, he breathes as the blackened bubbles of rot escape his partially skin covered mouth. Brigitte holds her breath in an attempt to save what little air she has left trapped in her lungs. She hears a voice, raspy, guttural and mocking, the voice of a man who is taunting her from beyond the grave.
