M.

M.

I felt the sound before I heard it. I was waking from an uncomfortable sleep. The kind of restless sleep you have that defines the waking hours that follow.

If I was honest though, all sleep had been terrible and restless recently.

But today I was in that strange transitional stage. The halfway home of our conscious mind between slumber and lucidity.

Though it took me until the third time to give the sound any attention, I had felt it.

It wasn't exactly something you could excuse away.

Even as one little sound.

It felt... off. My attention was momentarily distracted from the sound by a cut on my right forearm. It wasn't painful or particularly significant. I must have whacked something sharp in my sleep.

Mm.

Slightly longer. Definitely sounded like mm that time. Maybe it was the sound of my station. At the Mariana Trench, it would be impossible for there not to be sounds. All that water pressure pushing down on the structure.

My legs buckled beneath me as a shooting pain rendered my calves redundant for a few seconds.

As I stroked the site of the pain, I remembered John's hands. How I missed them.

Nostalgia was short-lived as I noticed a red, damp mark just below my knee.

Another cut?

Odd.

Mmm.

Longer still... definitely a mmm. Just a syllable. Or was it a gesture or suggestion of appetite?

I'd checked the diagnostics a hundred times in the last week. So it really couldn't be a problem with the structure.

But what else could it be?

A sharpness bit at my neck and I felt drips fall from the point of my chin.

Mmm a

That's new.

Two syllables.

Yet it wasn't just the syllables that unnerved me... it was the quality of the sound itself, the inflection too.

But the quality... at first I thought maybe there was some kind of sea creature I was hearing, but how could it broadcast its voice through the sound system and computer?

But then, I was the only inhabitant stationed here and the last time I'd had a routine check and in-person inspection from someone on the surface was months ago.

I hadn't thought about John in months. He was the only man I had known to see past the tomboy perception everyone had of me when I was growing up. Just because I liked getting dirty and climbing trees didn't mean I didn't like to feel pretty.

Silence descended once again in my home away from home. As I walked through to the kitchen, which by all accounts was bigger than my actual kitchen in my actual house, I wondered if I counted as a work-from-home employee as I essentially lived here now.

Taking some disinfectant wipes, I treated the wounds and enjoyed the silence. It must have just been the station creaking.

That's the only logical explanation.

A tiny beep sounded, signalling that it was time for me to check the monitors in the control room.

A dozen cameras were set up. Not only did they provide documented evidence for my field report for this assignment, the company could sell the footage to natural history channels and filmmakers.

As usual. A lot of blue, green, debris and detritus, and not a lot of life. I thought my presence was known to the local population and they were wary.

Mmm mm

Aaa.

What the.

Maybe I'd just been down here too long. Clichéd concern. Especially as I had argued that a longer field study was important and that mentally I could handle it.

Checking the interior cameras, I saw just the same old million-dollar construction. Why they hadn't tried to inject some personality into it, I'll never know.

An alarm told me it was time for my amphetamine dose. Gotta love ADHD.

I took my dose and remembered how I had spent the night sitting with him, lying with him and... Long time ago.

Another beep told me it was time for a shower. I'd thought it was a good idea when the mission started, but now it was irritating.

The great thing about being down here on my own was that I didn't need to get changed in the changing room.

Once naked, I turned the shower on. It was a surprisingly rudimentary setup considering where I was based and the amount of technology at work just to keep this station from sinking into oblivion.

I grabbed a razor and looked at my pits. John always wondered why I bothered, as my fair hair was virtually invisible and he rather enjoyed stroking it.

I didn't have a suitable answer.

Gently working from one side of the right pit to the other, I listened to the hairs being clipped away, checking my handiwork before moving onto the left armpit.

Same old same old as I started to work towards the middle and—

Ah, fuck.

Another cut.

"You need to be more careful."

I could hear John's voice in my memory.

He'd been telling me, the marine biologist, to be more careful.

Ma.

My ears pricked up, but I didn't even want to give it the attention it was demanding.

"Computer, what was the last received message?"

I waited, sure I was paranoid.

"Last message received four months ago, on October 9th. Happy birthday, Selena. Proud of you, kiddo. Love, Mum and Dad xxxx."

So, paranoid. I must be. Sleep deprivation. Maybe isolation.

All taking its toll.

It's okay though. I was trained for this.

I need to take my mind off it.

I headed to the recreation chamber and stood in front of the pull-up bar.

I stretched out my arms above my head a few times, holding my breath as I extended before exhaling when I returned them to my sides.

Then I jumped up gently and grabbed hold of the bar and let myself hang as the tension coursed along my shoulders and through my forearms to my upper arms. It was a welcome distraction.

John and I had parted on less than amicable terms. But we still loved each other.

That's what I believed. But I didn't blame John for how he felt about me. He was mostly right, after all.

I hung down, then pulled myself slowly up until my head was above the bar five more times, then dropped.

I felt John's hands around me as I landed on two feet again. Why I always remembered that one time we did naked pull-ups together, I'm not sure. My mind enjoyed the cruelty.

His breath was heavy on my neck as his hands gripped my waist and gently lifted me. The smell of fresh sweat infiltrated my olfactory senses and took me prisoner.

John took delight in how he had power over me. Before we split.

He always told me he adored how he could reduce me to a quivering wreck at his touch and voice.

Now, that was just a sordid memory.

I walked to the weights and gripped my usual bar of 150 lbs and deadlifted it slowly, feeling the strain through my arms as I kept my back straight and core still and held the bar above my waist for five seconds before returning it to the starting position.

Five times was enough to take my mind off John.

As I replaced the bar on its stand, I felt a sharp metallic bite into the soft flesh of my left breast through the fabric and gripped it in shock.

Fuck.

Ma ma.

The eerie sound in the dark emptiness sounded like language being formed. The syllables were caressed and rolled around a tongue and there was a wetness.

It couldn't be a voice but couldn't be the sound of anything else.

"Hello?"

I called out in fear as I slowly walked from the gym into the long corridor that linked all the rooms of the station.

"He...llo?"

My voice croaked in fear as my heartbeat rumbled a samba.

Silence.

Creaking metal was the usual ambient soundtrack to life this far down, accented with silence.

Then.

"Selena, is there a problem?"

The impersonal, human-adjacent voice of the station's computer made me jump out of my skin.

I shook myself, unimpressed by how I had reacted.

"Computer, how many inhabitants does the station have?"

"Checking. One. Just you, Selena."

Relief didn't return to me. Relief had drowned in the watery grave beyond the airlock.

Could the computer be wrong? We were taught not to solely rely on artificial intelligence.

As I crept along the corridor and arrived at the kitchen and dining room, I questioned the sound.

"Ma...ma?"

I laughed to disguise my growing unease from myself.

"Why or how even would a child be down here?"

I took a handheld mirror from the counter and sat down to investigate my latest wound.

As I lifted my T-shirt and bra from the skin, I felt the fabric tear away from the small perforation and grabbed the antibacterial wipes from a pocket in my trousers. Dabbing it gently, I felt the sting before I placed a plaster over it and recovered my modesty.

"Ma ma I am."

Slower, more controlled and closer this time.

The sound arrived in my ears as dizziness washed over me. The blood loss, exhaustion and exertion from the workout finally caught up with me, and sleep pulled me away from the station.

John and I argued a lot in the end.

Not loud and aggressive.

Quiet and dismissive.

That was what he called me.

Stubborn and belligerent.

Our final fight was ugly and though we bowed out of each other's lives cordially, the atmosphere between us had a bitter acridity like battery acid. While John seemed to strive emotionally once we had parted, I was a wreck. But I used that to push myself in work.

I still don't know the exact point where our relationship crumbled.

My... brain stopped coherence as my eyes felt heavy and I drifted back to sleep.

Gentle darkness splashed against my face, like the tide rolling back into land.

John's chest was firm against me at one point. I would sketch with my nail along the lines of his muscles from nipple to nipple.

John and Sadie were my world.

Until.

Ma ma I... Ma ma. I I I ereh ma ma I.

The cold breath of the voice and sticky saliva flicked against my face as I woke suddenly.

A small silhouette stood over me briefly as I looked at the wall and saw the silhouette attack my shadow.

As I tried to scream I heard John telling me to stop and woke, as my heart raced, like it wanted to drill free of my ribcage and flesh.

Then a warm and comforting darkness swallowed me.

A siren sounded but too far in the distance to matter as I enjoyed the emptiness.

I could hear John cooing and crooning and stroking a large round, tight-skinned belly. His ear rested on mine as he caressed the other.

"Maybe we'll make it fully, not like Selena"

The face of the person the belly belonged to was maligned and distorted like a television screen that had been cracked.

They laughed at me as I fell back on the bed and bent my knees, planting my feet on the cushioned end of the bed.

A pain, sharp like steel... no, nails bit into my flesh from the inside as a river of blood and clots drained away from my... No.

That's not right.

I sat up quickly.

"John?"

Nothing.

My heart raced as my energy decreased rapidly as a strong smell of iron or copper infested my nostrils. I smelled it before I felt the dripping from my thighs, before I heard the blood splash on the floor of the kitchen.

Ma ma I

I

Am

No. Not this. I need to stop the bleeding... I need to find the source.

As I dabbed tissue across my thighs, closer and closer to my pelvis, I realised the blood wasn't coming from my thighs.

The. Silence.

Darkness shrouded the station from me.

I am here.

John cried. As I sat looking in the mirror at my ruined thong. Saturated with deep red. Deep red that had spread onto the bed sheet and mattress.

As it dropped onto the hardwood flooring of our bedroom I just stared blankly at my faded expression.

John's embrace, the same embrace that had always felt like home, like safety. A place where I'd just melt, felt present but distant.

My vision became blurry as I came to, and found myself in the kitchen still bleeding from between my thighs. The sanitised flooring had been stained. Tainted with my guilt.

Sadie.

"Computer, how many inhabitants are present on the station."

"Calculating...."

I knew the answer. Or hoped I did before the computer replied.

"Recalculating..."

That's odd.

"There are two inhabitants detected."

No response could be found as the words worked their way through my ears to my brain.

Everything slowed down.

My heartbeat felt like it was in another room.

I sat up again drenched in sweat.

Imagining it was all a dream, I felt my legs give way, sliding across the puddle of red around the chair.

I tracked with my eyes the red from the floor up my legs to my groin. I had no idea why but I had hoped I was just imagining it. I gently stroked along my inner thigh, collecting a line of blood on my finger.

My groin ached. The aches brought back memories of John and Sadie.

I am here.

I am her.

That can't be. It can't be.

Before I could argue with the... her voice, violent spasms across my pelvis and deep beyond my skin doubled me over as my hands gripped between my legs in a vain attempt to lessen the pain. To comfort my shame and emptiness.

When will my punishment end?

I knew the answer.

As I walked to the airlock.

The sound got louder

The voice clearer

What can't be

Could have been

Should have been

I am here, ma ma.

As the airlock hissed and the computer warned me, I could almost see, hear, smell, touch and speak to my beautiful girl.

In that moment I felt a shift, as the Mariana Trench and my station became one with one another.

I held my breath as long as possible until I couldn't.

Water surrounded me and still her voice was as clear as day.