In The Depths | A Darkest Dungeon Fanfiction

The Pit

"Ruin has come to our family."

The gasping and sputtering frame of her once valiant companion shook Teresa to the depths of her being. Blood flowed freely from the gaping cavity of his chest, his armor shattered and splintering into his delicate flesh as Teresa fought to keep her hands steady. Even as she pressed against the gushing crimson with bandages and gauze, she found no solace in the medical garments, each becoming soaked within seconds of their application.

"Blast it all, get me more bandages now!" She yelled to her associate. Across from her, the iron helmed bounty hunter pressed his own trembling hands down on the wounds of his companion, desperately fighting to staunch the flow.

"There are no more!" He screamed in a deep and biting tone, turning his gaze to the doctor before continuing.

"You used them all in our last battle!" No, no that couldn't be right, Teresa had been so careful to keep more of them on hand, to portion them off to keep a healthy supply, how could they have already run dry? Blast it all, this moronic hunter had to be wrong! Perhaps he had stolen them away when she had been preoccupied, yes, this had to be the reason!

"If this is some sick ploy to keep more to yourself, I will personally deliver you to an early grave! Do not test me, bounty hunter!" She accused, looking away from him to cover the wound with more bandages. Blast it all, these ones were sopping wet! Even now she could see the useless things dripping with her companion's crimson viscera. In the corners of her vision, she could see the light leaving his eyes as his breathing began to slow, each inhalation sounding more like a desperate suckling of the air than a proper breath. She was losing him...

"You dare seek to accuse me? In this hell?!" Demanded the Hunter, his voice echoing amidst the flesh soaked walls of the accursed halls they had been forced to walk. Teresa paid no mind to the man's ramblings, instead reaching desperately for the flask by her side, a special concoction that she knew could buy her friend precious seconds in their struggle to survive. Her fingers frantically fumbled with the bottle as she brought it forward, only to freeze as she realized a tragic miscalculation.

The vial, the same one she so desperately needed, was empty. Not even the faintest hints of moisture remained on the inside. This was impossible, she had been sure to prepare a fresh batch of concoctions when she had departed, she should have had more than enough to save her friend. No doubt this too was the work of that insatiable crook across from her... His thievery had already cost them so dearly, and now it would claim the life of the masked, kind soul she'd come to call her friend. Outraged, she lifted her head to scream obscenities at the murderer amongst them, only to find her attention drawn away by the squelching footsteps behind her.

In an instant she drew the dagger at her side, the bounty hunter following suit with his axe as they both prepared for yet another onslaught. To her relief, she saw the familiar silhouette of a former grave robber, pick axe swinging from one hand as she clenched a dagger of her own in the other. What little comfort her presence offered, however, was quickly smothered when Teresa realized that she was not holding the dagger, but desperately grasping onto it with what looked to be only three remaining digits. The other two had been haphazardly chopped off, bits of flesh dangling from the exposed bones.

"Guys, please tell me you've almost got him back on his feet!" She pleaded, wincing as she pulled her ruined hand close to her heaving chest. With a closer look, Teresa could now see that even this companion had been utterly decimated, her once immaculate overcoat torn and stained with the all too familiar tint of viscera. Her face, once beautiful and unblemished, was now torn with a deep gash that stretched from the tip of her brow to the base of her lips, blood forcing one of her eyes shut.