Weird Fishes (Sebastian Solace x Reader)

All I Need

~~~

Time had lost all meaning as you moved through the endless corridors of this nightmarish labyrinth. The once-familiar layout of rooms and hallways now felt alien, disorienting, as if the facility itself was shifting around you, warping in a cruel attempt to trap you within its depths. Each door you opened brought a new wave of terror—shadowy figures slithering in the dark, creatures lurking just beyond the edges of your flickering flashlight beam. Every step felt like it could be your last. Isolation weighed down on you like a suffocating fog, pressing against your mind and threatening to crush what little sanity you had left. But you pressed on, driven by an unshakable, primal urge to survive. Every heartbeat echoed in your ears, loud and steady, as you forced yourself forward. The vents above you hissed with a soft, mocking laughter, a sound that crawled beneath your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The laughter haunted you like a ghost—always present, always watching, its presence as inescapable as the horrors around you. You steeled yourself against it, knowing that each step forward was a test of both your physical endurance and mental fortitude. There was something down here with you, something that stalked the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And you knew that, eventually, you would come face to face with it. But even in the face of that inevitable confrontation, you refused to be consumed by fear. You wouldn't go quietly into the darkness. If it came for you, you'd fight tooth and nail.

Days bled into weeks, time becoming an endless blur. Two weeks had passed—at least, you thought it had been two weeks. It was hard to tell anymore. Each day felt like an extension of the last, a disorienting haze of survival, your progress slow and maddening. It was as if the facility itself was mocking you, forcing you to take one step forward only to drag you three steps back. Your sanity teetered on the edge, gnawed away by the endless repetition of danger and despair. Fatigue weighed heavily on your bones, and your supplies were dwindling at an alarming rate. Water from your camel pack had become a precious resource, carefully rationed to stretch as far as possible. The few scraps of food you had left were pitiful—hardly enough to keep your strength up. Your body ached, littered with the scars and bruises from near-fatal encounters. Close calls with monstrous creatures had left you with injuries that you had barely managed to treat. The med kit you carried was your lifeline, but even it was starting to run dry. Every step was a struggle, but stopping wasn't an option. If you stopped, if you hesitated, the nightmares in the dark would catch you.

You had managed to carve out a fragile sanctuary in Room Thirty-Seven—a makeshift camp cobbled together from the remnants of what you could find. It wasn't much, but it was something. The office you'd barricaded yourself in felt like a thin, flimsy shield against the horrors lurking just outside. The door had been reinforced with whatever debris you could gather—old desks, broken cabinets, anything that could form a barrier between you and the outside world. Your supplies were few but vital: a flickering lantern that cast weak, trembling light, a battered flashlight with a handful of batteries, and the last of your med kit. Each item was a lifeline, a reminder that you were still alive, still fighting. But you knew, deep down, that this refuge wouldn't last forever. It was a temporary reprieve from the relentless assault of monsters and the oppressive atmosphere of the facility. Sooner or later, you would have to leave. Sooner or later, you'd have to face what lay beyond.

Today, you decided to leave. The urge to press deeper into the heart of the facility had been growing, a gnawing instinct that tugged at your gut. You couldn't afford to linger in Room Thirty-Seven any longer. The thought of what lay beyond Room Forty-Five had been gnawing at your mind—a distant promise, a potential escape, or maybe just more darkness. But you had to know. You couldn't stay here forever. Gathering what little you had, you packed up your camp with a sense of grim determination. The lantern's weak light flickered around you, casting shadows that twisted and warped against the walls. You couldn't dwell on the fear. Fear was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. Instead, you let your resolve take hold, pushing aside the doubts and the dread. With your supplies gathered, you stepped out into the corridor, bracing yourself for whatever lay ahead. The silence was thick, pressing against your ears, broken only by the distant, echoing sounds of things moving in the darkness—creatures that prowled unseen, waiting for their next opportunity to strike. The only sound you could rely on was the pounding of your own heart, steady and unyielding, driving you forward.