Beeping.
Slow, steady beeping.
It was loud and piercing, slamming against Cobalt’s eardrums with painful intensity, causing every individual nerve in his head to throb in unison. The world around him was dark, his body was numb, his mouth was dry; all he could hear was the infernal beeping. For a while, it was all that occupied his mind. His thoughts floated dull and disordered amidst the void of his mind, and for the longest time, he wasn’t sure whether he was alive, dead or something in between.
And then, the urge to breathe.
He sucked in a breath of cold, stale air that rasped through the dried passage of his throat, swelling his lungs and returning painful sensation to his chest. Muscle and bone shifted and grinded as he inhaled, and as he let the breath go, the overwhelming urge to cough gripped him, though he couldn’t find the strength to oblige it. The beeping grew faster for a moment, though as Cobalt focused on just breathing, it slowly returned to a steady pace.
It was coming back to him. The study, the garden, the cat and the stranger.
Omnihil. That’s what he said his name was.
A dream? Or was this a dream? He mentioned something about being on the verge of death. Was this it? Was Cobalt still on the precipice?
Confused and a little frightened, he deigned to try and call out, to see if he was alone in the darkness all around. At first, his mouth was numb; he couldn’t even will his jaw to open. A few attempts in, however, prickling sensation returned to his tongue. It was like a fat slab of meat in a dry, rubbery case, but progress was progress. Though it was infernally dry, he prodded around at his teeth.
He pressed against a sharp point, sending a shock of pain through his head, right into his brain. Cobalt couldn’t cry out, but he could feel his tear ducts protesting, waking up alongside the rest of his body. A few moments later, saliva began to flow, and he finally managed to pry his mouth open.
The air tasted horrible. Clammy and cold, threatening to dry out what he had painstakingly worked to remoisten. Taking another breath, Cobalt attempted to call out.
… Nothing happened. Just a long, wheedling wheeze. It seemed so easy, back in that dream or whatever it was. Here, he could barely muster the strength for a single syllable.
But he wasn’t about to fall at the first hurdle. Nor the second. Nor the third, fourth or fifth. He kept trying to call for help, until he finally made a noise.
“… Agh…!”
His voice. Weak and wavering, nothing like how it was.
“… Guh…!”
A little more.
“… Huh… luh…?!”
Come on…!
“… Heh… elp…!”
That was a word. That was good. He was getting somewhere.
Tired out by his attempts at communication, Cobalt instead focused on the rest of his body, trying to gauge just where he was. Everything was prickling now; he could just about feel his limbs, and though they refused to respond to movement impulses, he could feel that he was lying upon something soft.
Wait. Two arms. Two legs. There was something else, too. A third appendage sprouting from his lower back, and two more from his shoulders.
Something flickered in the dusty recesses of his mind; a thought, floating up there alongside his name and what Omnihil had told him. A long, semi-prehensile appendage tipped with a leathery spade. Two vestigial limbs webbed with velvety membrane.
A tail, and a pair of wings.
Wincing as his body began to wake up, Cobalt leaned his head back into the softness surrounding him, his bones creaking and complaining with every movement he willed into being. His head was beginning to hurt, and as the prickling intensified, he dimly realised that he wasn’t surrounded by impenetrable darkness.
His eyes were closed.
Of course, they stubbornly refused to open, but he had learned to go with the grain by this point. Cobalt kept willing them, and soon they finally relented, fluttering open and flooding his perception with light. Wherever he was, it was dark and gloomy, but even that was far to bright for him. A second shock of pain rushed through his system as his watering eyes stared at the blurry morass around him, but by now he was determined.
Minutes ticked by, counted by the beeps, but he kept pushing himself to keep his eyes open, watching through streaming tears as the world slowly came into focus all around him. He was staring at a low rocky ceiling, while beneath him he was lying upon a soft bed, swathed in light blankets. Bit by bit, his strength returned, until Cobalt was finally able to move his limbs.
A jerk of his right leg, a spasm of his left. Bit by bit, he erratically twitched his arms and weakly fluttered his wings, urging himself to move, just that little bit. The bed tried to pen him in, but he refused to stay put.
“Got… to…!”
Two more words.
Good.
As he struggled and strained, gritting his sharp teeth through the mounting pain, Cobalt remembered the words of Omnihil, willing him to reach for his hand, willing him to live on.
“Ngah… come… on…!”
A mighty surge of adrenaline tore through his body, spurring Cobalt’s right arm to shoot forward.
His skin was blue. Alarming as that was, worse were the countless discoloured scars marring his flesh, reaching all the way up to his hands. Cuts and teeth marks, and as he stared at fingers, he noticed that his fingernails were unusually thick and sharp. They were made of bone.
Cables connected him to whatever was making the beeping noise, and as he rolled over in the bed, he picked out a mess of machines surrounding him, glinting and glimmering in the gloom.
“… What the-?”
As he reached forward, however, tragedy struck. Shifting too much of his weight too quickly, Cobalt suddenly slipped out of the bed. For a moment, he felt as though he were floating, before the hard reality was brought to bear against him. He crashed to the floor, sending the third and most painful shock through his body’s systems, kickstarting his nerves and wrenching a scream of pain from his throat. The cables in his arms were torn out in the fall, causing the machines to whine in alarm as hot blood trickled from the wounds they left, but as Cobalt lay gasping on the floor, he found himself having fully awoken.
He was alive. On the floor and in pain, yes, but he was alive.
“… I did it…” he murmured dimly, blinking at the rocky ceiling.
A sense of pride rose from deep down. He didn’t know why.
Reaching up, he grabbed the side of the bed and arduously pulled himself to his feet, wincing and gasping with every inch he rose. Though shaking and shuddering all over, he steadied himself, swallowing hard as he looked around at the room he was in. It had been roughly cut straight out of bedrock, and though some of the furniture surrounding him appeared to be that of a conventional bedroom, much of the stony chamber was taken up by medical equipment. There was an open doorway leading further into the cave just out of his field of view, half-obscured by blurry nothingness.
Focusing on it, Cobalt took baby-steps towards it, shivering as he went and trying not to collapse. As he drew closer, however, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.
A figure stood just in the corner, stopping in place upon being noticed. Frowning, he stepped closer, squinting in an effort to make out their face.
He was a man, and a poorly groomed one at that. His face was a mess of navy scruff, and his hair was a mess of tangled tresses. His eyes were a strange amber colour, and were ringed with dark shadows, lending little to the vacant gaze he had. Perturbed by the stranger’s stare, Cobalt glanced up at his forehead to find a jagged spur of dark metal sticking out from beneath his overgrown fringe.
“… Who…?”
He took a step forward, and walked smack-bang into a standing mirror. Nearly toppling onto his backside, Cobalt braced himself against the bed and stared at his reflection, stunned by his appearance. A painfully thin man dressed in a worn hospital gown, and absolutely covered in injuries. His arms looked as though they had been savaged by an animal, and upon looking down he noticed that his legs were covered in burn scars. The membrane of his wings were badly tattered, and the spade of his tail had a chunk taken out of it. Eyes widening, he reached for his forehead. On one side, half of a broken horn. On the other, naught but a stump.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“… Is that… me…?”
He bared his teeth. Sure enough, they were jagged and sharp, like that of an animal.
“… Why do I…?”
Cobalt’s question trailed off before he shook his head. No. There was no point in getting caught up in the whys and hows. Right now, he just had to figure out where he was. And he’d start by going through that door.
Leaning against the wall, he began the slow journey out of the room, leaving the whining machinery behind. Something in his right knee clicked with every step, making movement difficult, but he kept on task, stepping out into the tunnel beyond the door. There were lights humming above him, though they were turned down low. They guided him further in, towards a large cavern at the far end of the hall. Pieces of plywood lined the floor, occasionally threatening to trip Cobalt up as he staggered out into the cave.
It was clear even from a glance that he had found himself somewhere strange. The cavern was filled with many pieces of broken-down machinery, piled in corners and stacked upon workbenches lining the walls. A pool table sat in the very centre of the room, and hanging from the ceiling was a massive claw built from pieces of different devices. By one wall, a huge computer array sat doormat, while upon another, Cobalt could see a huge mural painted right onto the rock. It depicted three figures; one made from abstract splashes of colour, one made from countless scientific formulae, and one made from the land itself. It was beautiful of course, but that didn’t detract from Cobalt’s confusion. Stepping out onto the rubber mats lining the floor, he suddenly felt light-headed and collapsed into a rolling chair sitting before the computer screens. The desks beneath them were covered in rubbish; takeaway cartons, wrappers, and old magazines.
And dust. Everything was covered in dust.
The entire place was cold and empty, clearly having lain abandoned for a long, long time.
“… What is this place…?” Cobalt asked, his voice echoing off the stone walls.
He surveyed the mess all around him, whereupon his eyes were suddenly drawn to a piece of paper sitting atop the desk, untouched by most of the filth. Wiping the dust off, he squinted at the words written upon it.
PRESS PLAY, BLUEBELL
“Bluebell…?”
He lifted the note to find a device beneath it; a small tape recorder, scuffed and scratched from years of lying in a storage box somewhere. There was a tape already inside it, so with another glance at the note, Cobalt pressed the play button. It began to whir and crackle, before a woman’s voice played through the speakers.
“… swear, Hell tech is borderline geriatric… Ah, it’s working. Alright.”
She cleared her throat.
“Hey there, bluebell. I, uh… I hate to leave you on such short notice but, well… Things are pretty bad out there, y’know? Yeah, you already get it. You were… you were right in the thick of it. And so was…”
The woman went quiet for a moment. Puzzled, Cobalt squinted at the recorder, trying and failing to find a clue as to whom it belonged to.
“… I’m real sorry. So is Riles. All of us are. The other two left not long after everything came to a head; your one-eyed girl scout came to pick them up. Listen. You were in a bad way, and I don’t know if you had a DNR on you or anything, but I wasn’t just about to leave you there. So… If you’re listening to this, then against all odds you’ve woken up. If not, then… fuck…”
Whoever she was, she sounded sad.
“I contacted a guy, let him know the code in so he could keep an eye on you. Don’t know how trustworthy he is, but you seemed to like him, so… yeah. Uh. I’m sorry for not being there, bluebell. I just couldn’t stay there, not with things as dangerous as they are. If it weren’t for Riles, maybe I’d have been able to hold out, but I’m not about to risk them. I already told you all this, I don’t even know why I’m…”
Cracks were forming in her voice, like she was doing everything in her power not to cry.
“… Pull through, bluebell. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, so you just… pull through. Don’t let me down. And once you’re up again, make sure to find me, okay? Don’t know where I’m going, but… well, how many Alisons could there be in Hell, right? Heh… fuck…”
She sniffled.
“… I’ll be waiting. See you then. How, uh… how do I… Where’s the stop button-?”
The recording abruptly cut off, leaving him alone in silence once more. Dazed and confused by what he just heard, Cobalt gingerly set the tape player down. For a while he wondered if the message had been intended for a completely different person; he didn’t recognise the woman’s voice, nor any of the names she brought up. But even if that were the case, then who was it for, and why was such a seemingly important message left in an abandoned cave? Why was it left for him to find?
“… Alison…” he murmured, repeating the woman’s name to see if it jogged any memories.
But alas, his mind was blank; dry, dusty and empty.
As Cobalt struggled to scour his mind for anything resembling a memory, the sound of hissing pistons suddenly rang through the cave, startling him to the core. As footsteps echoed from an inky tunnel on the other side of the room, he heaved himself to his feet and grabbed hold of the chair, just in case he needed to defend himself. He could hear his heart hammering.
“Shit, shit, shit…!” panted a voice, different to the one on the tape.
Looking around, Cobalt receded into a dark corner, dragging the chair with him.
“Please don’t die…!”
A man rushed into the cavern, dressed in the uniform of a police deputy. He was a small, red-skinned man with greasy hair and rounded glasses, and as he rushed over to the desk, Cobalt noticed a pair of horns rising straight into the air.
In the back of Cobalt’s mind, a word arose.
Imp.
While he had his back turned, he crept out of his hiding spot, pulling the chair as quietly as he could behind him. Despite the aches and pains ravaging his body, it didn’t take much effort for him to lift the chair up, ready to swing should the need arise.
Cobalt swallowed hard. It was best to take control of the situation from the outset.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice rasping from lack of use.
The Imp froze up, raising his hands as he slowly turned around. Behind the thick panes of his glasses, his eyes were bright and slitted, like a cat’s. He looked terrified, the colour draining from his face as he stared at Cobalt.
“… Sweet hellfire…” he breathed, staggering back against the dusty desk.
He raised the chair higher, as threateningly as he could.
“Wait, wait, wait! Cobalt, stop! It’s me, man! It’s me!” the Imp cried, suddenly aware that he was in danger.
He froze up. This man knew him…?
“Who. Are. You?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes.
“A- Arnn! Arnn Srenth!”
He shook his head.
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
Raising an eyebrow, Arnn took a breath and gestured for Cobalt to calm down.
“But you… Okay, uh… Let’s just put the chair down, okay? Let’s talk.”
“Not until you explain what’s going on and where I-”
A wave of fatigue suddenly struck him, forcing him to drop the chair. Alarmed, Arnn steadied Cobalt, before righting the chair and urging him to sit down. He could only oblige, whereupon the Imp wiped his face and pulled up a second chair from over by the far desk.
“I- I got an alert on my phone from the machines. Fuck, I thought you’d died or something, man,” he babbled, clearly in a panic.
Cobalt just watched as he struggled to catch his breath, unable to piece together this man’s identity. His uniform was soaked through with rain, and his face was soaked with sweat. He pulled a phone from his pocket and began to rapidly swipe through it, looking for something.
“Okay… She sent me some instructions in case this happened, so hang on for a sec…”
Frowning, Cobalt held a hand to his throbbing head.
“Who sent you instructions?”
“The doctor, man. I- I don’t know her name or even what she looks like, but after the whole… thing… I got this email telling me to come here, and there you were. It was a real shock, man; the entire town was looking for you, and those cult assholes were-”
He raised his hand, already overwhelmed.
“You just… found me here?” he asked.
“Yeah. You were already hooked up to the machines and shit; I just had to make sure they were plugged in and topped up and shit. Fuck, man… I can’t believe you’re finally awake…!” Arnn laughed, smiling despite how flustered he was.
With a heavy sigh, Cobalt leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. He felt as though his very veins were itching, and deep down in his stomach, he could feel a bizarre prickling sensation.
“So…” the Imp continued, lifting his phone, “… I just gotta run you through some stuff here. Doctor’s orders, heh. You remember your name, right?”
“… Cobalt,” he answered after a moment.
“Do you know the full thing?”
He didn’t answer.
“… That’s not good. It’s, uh… It’s Cobalt Trayer. I don’t know your middle name, though, so…”
Cobalt Trayer. It had a ring to it; familiarly so. Nodding slowly, he allowed Arnn to continue.
“So you know who you are. Do you know what you are?”
His gaze tracked up to Arnn’s horns. Yellow and spiralled, made from pointed bone. Meanwhile his own – if he could even call them that – were malformed and metallic. Another word was dredged from his mind.
“… A demon.”
“Yeah, I guess that counts. You’re also an Incubus. Famously so,” Arnn laughed, though it quickly petered out into a cough when Cobalt didn’t join in.
He stared at his hands and the scars upon them. An… Incubus? His chest twinged at the mention of that word as a flash of cold sweat washed across his body. He couldn’t fathom why.
“Next question, then…” Arnn murmured, swiping through his phone.
Cobalt shook his head.
“No. My turn,” the Incubus said, glaring at the Imp.
He flinched.
“Who are you?” he asked for the third time.
“… I already told you, man. I’m Arnn. Do you really not remem-?”
“Please don’t make me ask again,” Cobalt growled, his irritation only growing.
The bony nails on his fingers dug into the chair’s armrest, cracking it with an alarming snapping noise. As the Imp grew more concerned, he opened the top button of his shirt and began to explain.
“I- I’m just a deputy with the BPD. My dad’s the chief. N- Nepotism, I know, but he works me pretty hard.”
“How do you know me?”
Arnn stared at him for a moment, blinking in disbelief.
“… You were my teacher, man.”
Cobalt’s eyes widened. He was a teacher…?
“What happened to me? Why am I here?”
“Th- There was a like a whole thing that happened, but… Cobalt, you gotta take it slow, man. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you get worked up-”
Baring his teeth, the Incubus rose to his feet. Adrenaline flooded his system as frustration mounted.
“If you won’t give me answers, Arnn, then I’ll find someone who will,” he muttered marching across the cavern.
“Wait, you can’t! Cobalt! I got a whole list of shit I gotta do here!” the Imp cried, waving his phone as he ran after him.
Shivering in the cold air, the Incubus grabbed a dusty tarp off a stack of old dishwasher parts and wrapped it around himself. It wasn’t much, but it would at least keep the rain off.
“If the Faithful find you then-!”
“Are you gonna answer my questions, Arnn?!” he barked, turning to glare at him.
Arnn raised his hands as he approached.
“Look. The doctor said if you woke up you might be a little… unstable. But you gotta stay in here, Cobalt. Things aren’t the same out there anymore,” he explained, trying to keep his voice low and calm.
But Cobalt wasn’t having it. Frustrated by the lack of answers, he turned and headed towards the passageway that the Imp arrived through. He called out the Incubus’ name, but when it was clear that he had no intention of stopping, he rushed up behind him and tried to grab his shoulder.
Deep in the pit of Cobalt’s stomach, a black flame flashed, igniting his entire body from within. Right before Arnn’s fingers could even graze him, the Incubus whirled around and slammed his knuckles into his chest. It happened in less than a second – almost on instinct – but before he could even realise what he had done, the Imp was sent flying across the cavern. He crashed straight into the monitors, knocking several of them off the wall and smashing the screens to bits.
He stood there for a moment, his breath coming in puffs of hot steam as he stared at his outstretched fist. His veins and scars were glowing a deep, angry red; pulsing in time to his accelerating heartbeat.
Deep down, he felt as though he was on fire, burning from the inside out.
But Cobalt didn’t have time for wondering what the Hell was going on. No, he needed answers.
Arnn mentioned that he was a teacher, which meant that there had to be a school nearby. With no other leads to go off, he stormed upwards through the tunnel, guided by the light from his burning veins.