10th May, 1965: as we say in Russia...
It’s an hour before the rope snaps.
The capsule had been starting to bump and shudder, but she feels it when it finally goes. When the capsule hits the bottom, it bounces and slides and she’s sent tumbling over and over.
Just over the roar of blood in her ears, Esfir can hear the scream of her metal hull dragging along rocks.
Finally, the capsule goes still. She takes a deep breath and-
“Oooh, ow,” she moans, pulling herself up with her chair and rubbing her backside where it was slammed into various pointy instruments. Gritting her teeth, she kicks the wall of her cabin.
“FUCK! You really weren’t joking, were you?”
Not that she thought he ever had been, but hope is cruel. She stares at her oxygen gauge and shuts her eyes.
“Fuck.”
~
Hope is indeed cruel, but it’s also addicting. By the time her murderer (does it count if she’s not actually dead yet? ) comes back, her attention has been caught by a little red light above her.
“Hello! Can you hear me? ”
Absently, she kicks the wall in reply.
“So glad you’re there! Things are working out just the way I said, though I guess I’ll have to cut the rope a little deeper. ”
Could it be…
Ignoring him, she gets to her feet to investigate further, only to be rocked back into her chair as the capsule is lifted clear of the sea-bed again. Once she gets her balance, she peers close. Breath catching in her parched throat, she presses stop, rewind, play.
“-made you fast we’ll head towards it. We can’t lift you out of the water with the-”
Grinning wickedly, she fast-forwards.
“-ll never get there alive. I’ve fixed that as well…”
She listens to the whole thing and starts to laugh. His words are distorted, but audible.
“As we say in Russia, you stupid bastard, let’s die with music, shall we?” She murmurs, rewinding back to where he starts digging his own grave.
~
In the end, it’s not much to feel triumphant about. Just some distorted ranting by a man made mad by grief and hate that no one may listen to.
But in the end, it’s all she has.
The capsule had been starting to bump and shudder, but she feels it when it finally goes. When the capsule hits the bottom, it bounces and slides and she’s sent tumbling over and over.
Just over the roar of blood in her ears, Esfir can hear the scream of her metal hull dragging along rocks.
Finally, the capsule goes still. She takes a deep breath and-
“Oooh, ow,” she moans, pulling herself up with her chair and rubbing her backside where it was slammed into various pointy instruments. Gritting her teeth, she kicks the wall of her cabin.
“FUCK! You really weren’t joking, were you?”
Not that she thought he ever had been, but hope is cruel. She stares at her oxygen gauge and shuts her eyes.
“Fuck.”
~
Hope is indeed cruel, but it’s also addicting. By the time her murderer (does it count if she’s not actually dead yet? ) comes back, her attention has been caught by a little red light above her.
“Hello! Can you hear me? ”
Absently, she kicks the wall in reply.
“So glad you’re there! Things are working out just the way I said, though I guess I’ll have to cut the rope a little deeper. ”
Could it be…
Ignoring him, she gets to her feet to investigate further, only to be rocked back into her chair as the capsule is lifted clear of the sea-bed again. Once she gets her balance, she peers close. Breath catching in her parched throat, she presses stop, rewind, play.
“-made you fast we’ll head towards it. We can’t lift you out of the water with the-”
Grinning wickedly, she fast-forwards.
“-ll never get there alive. I’ve fixed that as well…”
She listens to the whole thing and starts to laugh. His words are distorted, but audible.
“As we say in Russia, you stupid bastard, let’s die with music, shall we?” She murmurs, rewinding back to where he starts digging his own grave.
~
In the end, it’s not much to feel triumphant about. Just some distorted ranting by a man made mad by grief and hate that no one may listen to.
But in the end, it’s all she has.