Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - I'm Stationed on a Deep-Sea Mining Rig, but We're Not Extracting Minerals

Episode Date: September 26, 2025

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His screams pierce my very soul. Someone hold him down. Dr. Edgerton shouts. I can't stop the bleeding while he thrashes about like this. The one and only nurse assigned to our deep sea mining station gives me an apologetic look. I'm sorry, hold this down, she says. Keep the pressure on. I'll be right back. I clamp my hand over the bandage on my left forearm, and watch as the plain white becomes pink, becomes red, becomes dark crimson.

I'm not going to lose my arm, am I? I cry. but the nurse and Dr. Edgerton are occupied trying to keep my workmate alive. It all happened so fast that my mind is still reeling, spinning, falling, drowning. I gasp for air, even though I'm no longer trapped underwater, no longer trapped in that tank. The nurse and doctor don't even look my way. They have other issues to deal with. The pain in my arm is excruciating and I'm afraid to look.

The last glimpse I saw was of shredded floor. and chunked muscle. My shredded flesh, my chunked muscle, held together by a flap of skin. The bandage on my arm begins to drip, and I toss it to the floor as I grab a fresh one from the tray by my gurney. The Gorman-Fried Deep Sea, underwater mining rig we all live on, doesn't have space for full hospital beds. It's got two surgical bays and a bunch of collapsed gurneys. They haven't had time to move me to a surgical bay. The Gorman freed. We call it the Gorfer. it shouldn't be here. The corporation has an exploration license only.

We should all be floating on the ocean's surface in a large ship or floating platform, handling all this shit remotely. It's why they made robotic subs in the first place. But the corporation has other plans. So here I am with 18 other crew members, sitting in the gorferite 800 meters below the ocean, bleeding like a stuck pig, so the corporation can make a miraculous discovery and extract what they need

in order to revolutionize science, or exploit science for insane financial gain, one of the two. I'm leaning toward the latter. The corporation found its miracle in the form of an amorphous blob sitting at the bottom of the Pacific, a blob that seemed innocuous at first, but turned out to be everything but. Husker screams as Dr. Edgerton shouts at the nurse, Liza, Lena, Lisa, something like that. Even with only 18 people aboard, I still haven't met all of the crew. We work different shifts or different sections, or just don't bump into each other. Seems strange, but that's the gorfer for you.

Fucking strange. Hold them down, damn it! Dr. Edgerton roars. I'm trying! Liza or Lena or Lisa or whatever roars back. Husker screams become so high-pitched that I squeeze my right shoulder up against my ear to help block some of it out. Except it's like it's gone supersonic.

I can feel his screams and my teeth. What the fuck happened? Captain Akila shouts as he rushes into the infirmary. He stares at the mess that's Husker and the chaos he's still causing, even though his skin is bone white and there's no way anyone can survive what he's been through. Then, the captain's eyes slowly shift from that nightmare and fall on me. Baker? What the hell happened down there? I don't know.

I reply, even though I have a very good idea of what happened down there. there. Down there, being the holding tank level. The fucking holding tank. The captain studies me. Both of us wincing at Huskers every scream. Bullshit, he says, he grabs a stool, blabbing it down next to me. You know. Captain? First mate Reingold cries as she bursts into the infirmary. There you are. Combs are down. The whole station? Captain Aquila asks. We're just to the surface. Both, all of it. We've gone silent. Shit. She glances around the infirmary.

How did this happen? Her eyes find me. Baker? What's the story? Shit went south. I gasp as pain racks my arm. I forced myself to take a deep breath through clenched teeth. A little fucking help here.

Dr. Edgerton yells. Can someone help Lisa hold this man down? Lisa. That's the nurse's name. Rhine Gold, Captain Aquila says. And the first mate doesn't hesitate. She's at the surgical bay and leaning her body across Huskers' legs and the blink of an eye. Talk! Captain Akila says to me, and it's not a request,

it's an order. It happened so fast. I try to force on my words and not the pain, or the fact I may lose my arm. I barely saw anything move. Why were you down in the tank in the first place? That's a confusing question. I pause and close my eyes, using my wound as an excuse to gather my thoughts. Why is he asking me this? What's the angle? Does he not want the doctor and nurse to know? Does he not want Rheingold to know? I've never seen the captain keep anything from his first mate. I got nothing, so I take the direct approach. What do you mean? You ordered us to go down there.

I opened my eyes and look at my wound. Can you hand me a fresh bandage? The captain snags one off the tray and hand it to me as I toss another soaked and soiled bandage into the infirmary floor. It's so heavy with my blood that it lands with an audible splat that can be heard even over Huskers' cries. cries that have become even more painful to listen to. Baker, why were you down there? The captain asks again. You ordered us to go down there, I reply. I noticed Reingold

glance in our direction, obviously confused as much by our conversation as I am. I never gave you that order. Only security personnel is allowed down there. And that's with Dr. Edgerton in attendance and supervising. That's protocol. We established that the day we discovered. It. I know that, Captain. But I'm I swear on everything holy that you gave Husker and me a direct order. You called us over the comms while we were chilling in observation port too and told us we needed to get down to the tank and conduct a quick inventory of the subjects. You said it had become a them and that we needed to know how many there are.

You said that it was important and that the security team would be right behind us. I didn't say any of that. You did, sir. You can ask Husker, but he's not doing well. I swear to you, Baker. that I did not call over the comms. But I heard your voice. I'm confused and in excruciating pain.

We heard your voice, Captain, like it was right inside. I blink a few times. Look over at Husker in his throes of agony and finish my sentence. Like it was right inside our heads. A flash of fear crosses the captain's face. Then he shakes his head. Okay, let's put this part on the back burner. Tell me what happened while you were down there.

I look back toward Husker, directing my gaze to nurse Lisa and Reingold. You sure, sir? The tank isn't for everyone to know about. That's my first maitam, the doctor's only nurse. They are both fully briefed and aware of what's in that tank. I don't have time to correct his present tense of is to was, since I'm pretty sure some of what was in the tank is most certainly not in there anymore. Because Husker decides he no longer wants to be on the surgical table. He kicks Reingold off his legs.

Punches Nurse Lisa in the eye and grabs Dr. Edgerton by the throat. Dr. Edgerton gasps as his face turns purple fast. Rheingold is on the floor, moving slowly, touching the back of her head. Her hand comes away bloody. Jesus, she must have hit the edge of the supply cart. Shit. She mutters and tries to stand up, but her legs wobble, and she falls back on her ass. Shit.

She slumps to the side, her body resting against the cart. That's a lot of blood. I say, seeing it pool under Rheingold. But the captain doesn't hear me. None of us can hear each other as huskers screams rise and rise and rise. My head feels like it'll split open at any second. Blood trickles from Captain Aquila's nose. Nurse Lisa leans against the far wall, her hand covering her eye.

She turns and throws up. Her hand falls away from her face as she steadies herself while she vomits. Her eye is completely swollen shut. and reddish-yellow liquid oozes out from under the lid, dripping down into the pile of sick at her feet. Dr. Edgerton is clawing at Husker's wrist, tearing strips of skin from his arm, but it's having no effect.

Husker hangs on like a drowning man, and all Dr. Edgerton can do is keep fighting the grip while looking over at us, his eyes, pleading for help. Captain! Help the doctor! I shout. I don't know if he hears me. The captain stands up and looks about the infirmary at the bloody carnage. Indecision wafts off of him, and I can't stand it anymore. So I slip my legs off the gurney, take a few steps, then rush straight at Husker and the doctor.

I lower my shoulder and ram Dr. Edgerton, knocking him free from Husker's grip. The doctor flies back and slams into the wall, where he slides down onto his ass as he tries to suck in breath after breath. I stumble, but don't fall. Still screaming, Husker's hand searches for another target and finds my wounded arm. My screams mixed with his, and in half a second we are screaming in each other's faces, our blood flowing, dripping, pooling, mixing on the infirmary floor. Let go! Let go! I yell at Husker. He doesn't let go, only grips tighter.

My fist slams into his face once, twice, three times, before he goes limp enough that I can get free of him. I stack her back, bump into Nurse Lisa, pinball off of her, trip over Rheingold's legs, and fall hard on the floor. right on my wounded arm. Picture this. It's late at night. You're scrolling, and suddenly you find exactly

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Go to Shopify.com slash DNS. That's Shopify.com slash D&S. When I wake up, only Nurse Lisa is in the infirmary with me. Her head is wrapped in a bandage that covers her poor eye, and she's sitting up on a gurney next to mine. Hi. My voice is nothing but a gravelly rasp. Jesus, I'm thirsty.

There's water on the tray. Nurse Lisa points at the tray sitting between us. I grabbed the cup with the straw closest to my gurney and sip until the cup is empty. Where's Husker? I ask. They took him away. Her voice is weak and far away. Nurse, Lisa?

She turns and looks at me, and I can see the yellow and red stains already soaking through the layers of bandages over her eye. What do you mean they took him away? I ask when she doesn't say. anything to me only stares with her one good eye who took him away security security took Oscar away where to the brig he was dying for our safety what does that mean Oscar was going to die we're all going to die she smiles at me did you know that Baker

well yeah we all die at some point She laughs a little. Just a quick he-he. Oh, no. Not at some point, she says, still smiling. Now, today, tonight, we all are going to die. Down here deep in the dark. Down here with them. I shiver, because who wouldn't shiver when they hear shit like that? I think you just took a hard hit to the head, I say. Then I glanced down at my arm and frown.

It's not bleeding anymore. I pull the bandage away, and the deep wound is closed up, far from healed, but no longer an open chasm, pouring blood onto the floor. I don't see any stitches. What happened after I passed out? Before nurse Lisa can answer, a blood-curdling scream echoes down the passageway outside the infirmary. She does that, he-he-ha-lough again, and looks toward the door. Lisa, what happened after I've passed? out. So much, she says, then sets her feet on the floor and slowly stands up. Oh, so much has

happened. She walks out of the infirmary, and the second she turns to walk to the left, her body flies back, lies from sight. I jump, then freeze as I see the cable strung out along the passageway's floor. The cable is slowly reeled in, and I watch in horror as Nurse Lisa's feet come into view, followed by her whole body, as she slowly dragged past the infirmary door with a harpoon sticking out of her midsection. Then she's gone, and all I see is a long streak of blood left behind. That gets me moving. I'm off the gurney and hunting for a weapon, as I still hear Lisa's body being dragged down the passageway. Finding a scalpel on the counter, both coated in blood. I grabbed the handle and spin around, ready to slash and slice anyone who comes through

the infirmary door. But no one comes through. What does come through are the sounds of something, eating. Choms and lips macks and slurps and chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing, a loud swallow followed by a belch. The stink of the belch makes its way into the infirmary. And I feel like I'm wrapped in a chum blanket as stench coats the back of my throat. I'm holding out the scalpel, as if this thin piece of sharp metal will protect me from whatever is out. Whatever is eating, eating nurse Lisa. Jesus, what is happening? Pain rips through my arm and a gasp.

I look at the wound and gasp again. Something is moving under the flap of skin that's been pressed back into place. No, no, no, no, I mutter. The chewing in the passageway stops. I hold my breath and wait. After a few seconds, the chewing begins again. Then another belch that nearly doubles me over when it reaches me. A few seconds later, I hear wet dragging that gets quieter and quieter

until all I can hear is my pulse throbbing in my ears. I let out my breath and gasp for air. I'd almost passed out. There are a lot of questions rattling around in my head. The biggest one being, how the fuck do I get off this station and back to the surface? We have an escape sub that holds six. But if anyone was smart, They would have already filled it and launched it.

No comms and... Something rumming the station? Yeah, that would call for a fast escape. I'll have to check, of course, but I doubt the sub is still connected to the station. The other choice is one of the suits. We have multiple deep pressure suits that I could slip into. Get rid of the weights and fire a rescue balloon toward the surface. And all I have to do is hang on as I go for a ride.

But I'll need a decompression chamber the second I hit the surface. The suit will help, but not enough to keep me from a serious case of the bends. I've had nitrogen flood my circulatory system before, and it's no picnic. A screech, followed by a loud bang, echo through the station. It sounded like a bulkhead slamming shut, which isn't great, but better than an explosion. My third escape option is to figure out how to get the comms operational and call the surface for help. They'll send down a rescue sub, one that holds more than six, and can decompress properly on the way up.

But the odds of me getting the comms back online are slim. I'm no tech. So, escape sub first. With my pitiful scalpel in my hand, I carefully, cautiously leave the infirmary. Other than the streak of blood, there's no sign of Nurse Lisa or whatever shot her with the harpoon in the passageway.

The streak ends almost at the corner, but I see a trail of large drops of blood leading into the next passageway. Whoever, or whatever, was eating her, must have picked her up and carried her away. I walked the other direction. After three turns, two passageways, and a set of stairs that lead up,

I reached the escape subs hatch. All that's on the other side of the porthole is dark, dark water. The sub is long gone. It's all right, I tell myself. I knew this was likely. Hopefully, it was full before it launched. That would mean a third of the same. station's crew made it safely off the gorfer, good for them. One option is crossed off

the list. Time for a suit. There's a boom and the station rocks hard enough that I'm thrown against the wall. I steady myself and wait for the emergency claxons to fire up, but they don't. And other than some reverb from the boom, the station grows silent once more. Well, mostly silent. I whisper as I make my way from the escape subhatch and up one more deck, heading for the command center. Is someone there? Just up ahead. Peeking around the corner, I see Ensign Walters, hunched against the wall on the floor.

At this point, I'm not at all surprised to see him sitting in a very large pool of blood. Walters? I whisper. Walters? What's happening? He twitches, but doesn't look my way. Walters, what the fuck is going on? I hurry over to him, but when he sees me, his eyes lock onto the wound on my arm.

and he scurries back away from me as fast as he can, which isn't all that fast, since the stumps where his hands should be keep slipping in blood. Get away, get away! He cries. I see you, Baker. I see you. Hey, calm the fuck down. I respond, so confused.

No, stay away from me. Stay away. I feel something wriggle in my wound, and my guts clench with fear. When I look down at my arm, the flap of skin. has been pushed away and an eye stares back at me. What the holy fuck?

I shout and try to get away, but there's nowhere to go. The eye is in my arm, and my arm is still attached. Get it out! Get it the fuck out! It won't leave! Walters cries and holds his stumps up. You have to make them leave. You have to make them! Make them! Make them!

I look down at the scoppel in my hand. Then at the eye staring up at me. It blinks. I scream. It blinks again. I stab it with my scalpel. Before we get back to the story, did you know there are over 80 bonus episodes

waiting for you over on my Patreon? You can start listening ad-free right now with a free trial. Just go to patreon.com slash Dr. Noseleaf. The link is in the description below. Now back to the story. When I wake up again, I'm on the floor in the passageway, the scalpel still sticking out of my arm. Painfully, slowly, I managed to sit upright.

Walters is dead. is glazed over, unseeing eyes tell me that. After several deep, deep breaths, I pressed my back against the wall and push myself upright with my legs. A few more deep breaths, and I'm actually able to stay upright. But that stability is threatened

when I look down at Walters and see there's an eye staring at me from out of his open mouth. Fuck! I scoot away as fast as I can while still using the wall to keep me standing. Then I realize I'm scooting the wrong way, Instead of toward the open end of the passageway, I'm scooting toward the closed bulkhead.

I never take my eyes off of Walters. My hand slaps against the wall until I find the bulkhead controls. The hatch swings open, and my hand slaps at the lever. I pull down with my good hand, and hear the gears of the bulkhead begin to go to work. It rises with a loud groan, and the eye in Walters' mouth glances from me to the bulkhead, then back to me. The groaning gears whine, then halt. The bulk head has only risen maybe three feet, but it's enough for me to squeeze under. I kneeled down and prepared to crawl through, but the sight of all the blood and the two severed hands stops me.

So that's how Walters took both hands off. I was wondering about that. One hand is easy to cut off. Two? Not so much. Jesus, what am I thinking? It's not easy cutting any hands off. I back away from the bulkhead and stand up.

No way I'm crawling through there. What if Walters didn't cut his hands off on purpose? What if he'd started to crawl through, and the bulkhead slammed down, taking his hands off before he even knew what was happening? Screams echo out from under the bulkhead. The scalpel in my arm jiggles a little. I want to cry and whimper and retreat into myself. I want to curl up into a ball and have this nightmare go away.

The screams continue, followed by a different noise. Not one coming from under the bulkhead, though. No, this noise is coming from directly behind me. On weak and terrified legs, I slowly turn around. Walters is standing up. His mouth opens wide, and it's full of eyes. So many eyes, all squirming and moving about, each jockeying for position so they can have the best view.

I can't even scream at this point. What's even left to scream about? Unfortunately, I find out the answer to my own question as Captain Akila and Dr. Edgerton walk around the corner. The captain is holding a harpoon gun and pulling the cable along behind him. I have a pretty good idea that Nurse Lisa is on the other end of that cable. But what's left of her?

Blood and bits of flesh coat the captain's chin and throat and shirt. But that's not what I stare at. Now, it's his eyes. They are too big for his sockets. I no longer match. Captain Aquila used to have blue eyes. The ones watching me are green and brown. Dr. Edgerton points at me and opens his mouth.

The only reason my attention is dragged away from the captain's fucked up eyes is because, just like with Walters, the good doctor's mouth holds eye after eye, after I, after I, after I. The scalpel jiggles again, and that gets me moving. I spin and dive under the bulkhead. My arm protests,

and the white-hot pain almost makes me pass out yet again. But I fight back the black haze that threatens to consume me and scramble under and away from the bulkhead as fast as possible. There are grunts and shouts from the other side as I find the control hatch

and slam down the lever. The bulkhead drop. fast, leaving me alone at last. Well, not quite alone since Walter's hands are on the other side, but they're only hands. A banging reverberates through the bulkhead. Walters, the captain, and Dr. Edgerton want through. I have no intention of letting that happen. If the captain can work a harpoon gun, then he can raise the lever on that side. I hurry down the passageway to an emergency fire axe. Break glass in case of emergency. This is an emergency, so I break that fucking glass, grab the axe and run toward the lever.

It only takes two hacks before the lever breaks, which is good because I only have two hacks in me. The axe falls from my weak fingers and clatters onto the deck, and both of Walters' severed hands perk up, crawl over on their fingertips and grip the axe handle. From out of the wrists, I see eyes staring up at me. You have got to be fucking getting me, I whisper, just as the axe swings for my feet.

The hands can't get leverage to lift the axe because they're fucking hands, not arms, but they have enough power to sort of swing and slide the axe across the floor at me. I step over the axe and back away, and back away, and back away. The axe is still swinging back and forth when I reach the end of the passageway and take the corner. The suits. I have to get to the suits.

I get my bearings. I need to go two passageways over and then down three decks. Unfortunately, the suits are only a couple rooms away from the tank. I'd rather not be going this way because I pause. The tank. The tank is the reason we're all down here. The gorfer, the crew, the corporation.

That tank, according to the now very fucked up Dr. Edgerton, holds the secret that humanity has been looking for. Thousands of lives have been lost over the millennia for this secret. And it's in that tank, apparently. Yeah, well, as I look at my wound in the scalpel, I plan on keeping it stuck in there. I know from experience that there's more in that tank than just a secret. But I have no choice. I have to get to the suits. Three decks down, I stand at the open hatch and want to weep.

The suits, all of them, they're strewn about the floor and ripped to shreds. The helmets are a cracked and broken pile in the corner. My second option is lost to me. That leaves the corporation coming to rescue us. If there even is in us left. How many are on board still? And how many are actually alive? I don't think I can count the captain or the doctor.

or Walters in the Alive category. If six crew members escaped in the sub, then there might be eight others left down here. Now, seven others. Nurse Lisa isn't in the alive category either. One's coming down. Hisses, whispers, garble talk. No, not someone. Some ones are coming down.

I hear heavy footsteps and I look down the passageway at my only option. The tank room. With my own heavy footsteps, I stumble my way to the tank room's hatch. It takes all of my strength to spin the wheel and pull the hatch open. What's left of my strength, I use to pull the hatch closed, spinning the wheel until it stops with a loud thunk. I look about, see a torque bar, and jam it into the spokes of the wheel on my side. The wheel shakes, and a mouthful of eyes stare at me through the hatch's porthole.

My guess is, it's Dr. Edgerton. Pounding shakes the hatch, and the mouthful of eyes is shoved aside as Captain Aquila's eyes take its place. One eye is locked onto me. The other eye swivels before focusing on what's behind me. The tank. Slowly, I look over my shoulder. A hundred eyes.

A thousand eyes. A million eyes. They stare at me from the tank's thick plexiglass. The murky green water inside, sloshing about as they fight for position. Then they blink as one and change. Not eyes anymore. They're small fish. The fish swim away.

Then race back at the plexiglass as one giant swarm, slamming against. the side of the tank over and over, with enough force that a small crack appears. The fish becomes tentacles, and the tentacles all focus on the crack, slapping and punching and wriggling against the plexiglass. The pounding from the hatch increases, but I don't care. The tank has my full attention until I see a miracle. Just past the tank, piled in a heap, is a pressure suit with a helmet resting next to it. My legs are jelly at this point, but I managed to get them working and scurry to the suit,

Grateful beyond belief. The pounding at the hatch, the slapping of tentacles against the plexiglass, I ignore both as I orient the suit and step into the legs. I zip that part up and then struggle to get the torso portion slid up to my shoulders. I can get one side, but the other side isn't happening, as long as I have this damn scalpel still stuck in my arm. The scalpel jiggles, as if it knows I'm thinking about it. The wrenching of steel draws my attention away from my wounded arm,

and back to the hatch. The torque bar is bending. It's fucking bending. Eyes held in a grinning mouth, stare at me through the porthole. I wretch, but keep my gorge at bay. The sight of those eyes is sickening. A crack and the sound of water trickling onto the room's deck

ripped my attention in the direction of the tank. Oh, fuck, I whisper. The tentacles have worried their way into the crack and widened it. The tank is now leaking. A lot. Floating eyes in the tank seemed to mock me as tentacles wave about. out, draw back, then rammed into the tank's weak point. The eyes and tentacles become fish again, and they dive toward the crack.

One slips inside, and I stare as it swells and grows. Fuck this! I yank the scalpel out of my arm, scream at the top of my lungs, and pull the top half of the suit all the way on. I managed to get my wounded arm inside, zip the whole suit closed, then bend down and fetch the helmet. Something wet and very active slips out of my wound, just as I put the helmet on. I can feel it slither up to my shoulder, and then across my chest, up my neck, and into my helmet. Yup, it's an eye, an eye just crawled out of my arm and is staring me down. My hands go to my helmet, ready to rip it off.

But at the same second, the crack in the tank becomes a hole in the tank. Water pours out for only a second before the entire tank bursts, and the room begins to fill with water. The mouth full of eyes at the hatch is laughing at me. The wheel keeps turning. The torque bar snaps in fucking half. The hatch opens, and water rushes into the passageway. Captain Aquila steps into the room, followed by Dr. Edgerton and first mate Rheingold, and ensign Walters and Johnson and Victoria and Dansky and...

Husker? Oh God! He's a fucking mess! And coming straight for me! I shout for them to leave me alone! To go away! The eye in my helmet sees an opportunity and slips into my mouth. I instantly fall to my knees as I begin to gag.

It's nearly impossible to breathe around the damn thing. I slump over to my side. My lungs burn as the eye blocks my air passage. Spots form in front of my eyes. Eyes. So many eyes. I see them all. Flopping and swimming and splashing in the water in the room's deck.

Changing from fish to tentacles to eels to crabs to more eyes, to everything. Then new eyes fill my vision as the crew bend over me, reaching for my helmet. The spots in my vision. vision come together as one curtain of blackness, and I slip away. Holy shit! He's breathing! The man's voice brings me around slowly. Get the helmet off of him. Are you sure? He could be. He's alive, damn it! And he has answers! My body shudders, and I feel my helmet being removed. I thrash and fight and throw punches

and kick. I'm not letting the crew take my helmet off. Not with all those things out there in the... Then a voice inside my head that sounds a lot like Captain Aquila, even though I know it's not Not him, not this time, says, Stop fighting, this is the way now. I stop fighting and go still. Then I open my eyes and look up at the four men crouched over me. I'm in a small sub. Do you have it?

The last communication we got was that Dr. Edgerton found the secret to immortality. A serum, a different man says. He said it was a serum extracted from. Well, he didn't say what? This is idiotic. Third man says. He should be quarantined. Now we'll have to be, oh shut up Timmins, the first man says. This is what we and the corporation have been hunting for. The secret to eternal life.

He focuses back on me. Baker, right? I nod. Do you have it? The serum? The secret? I nod. Let me show you, I say. The hell was wrong with his face? Did you see that? Something is under his fucking skin. I feel my secret, my new friend wriggle into my left eye socket. There's a flash of pain, but it's not bad. Then I lose my eyesight in that eye as my eyeball is pushed out of my skull and replaced by my little friend. What the fuck?

I watch the eye leap from my head and sprout wings. It flies above the sub's interior, then right into a stunned gaping mouth. Chaos breaks out, and they all scream as they try to help the poor, choking man. They should be figuring out how to help themselves, because I have a lot more friends inside me. My many friends leap from my eye socket and fill the sub. The men sound so funny as they plead and cry. So I laugh, and I laugh, and I laugh, and I keep laughing until I shout at the top of my lungs.

The secret to immortality is right here! But it's not for us. It's never been for us. It's for them. For them and only them! Praise the gods of the deep! Praise them all! For they have risen to take the surface and the world is now theirs!

Forever! Then men keep pleading and crying and screaming, then goes silent. I don't. I continue to laugh until the sub reaches the surface and the hatch is opened. Time to get to work.