Among us one-shots (HIATUS)

Impostor Syndrome

The subtle hum of the ship's engines echoed throughout the hallways, giving Blue a familiar sound to latch onto to keep his sanity. Despite the crisp-cold air conditioning that was ventilated throughout the Skeld, the crewmate was boiling alive. He was panting hard, unable to hear his own footsteps under the racing of his heart.

Blue's eyes nervously darted side to side, searching for nothing but unable to keep themselves still, watching as the hallway seemed to grow in size every passing moment. To comfort himself, he held his right arm close to his chest. It was the only thing in this unfamiliar ship that reminded him of home, where he felt safer and less likely to be murdered by some lunatic in a space suit.

But there was a deeper, more unsettling feeling in Blue's gut. It wasn't the fear of being killed that unsettled him so. No, if he were afraid of being stabbed to death like Pink, he would have taken Black's offer to group up with her and Red.

But... something about seeing Pink's body struck the blue astronaut. Sure, he felt disgusted when he accidentally took of whiff of the body when he helped carry it away. He was certainly revolted when some of Pink's guts made squishing noises when they first picked it up, and he was definitely sympathetic with Pink's son, Magenta, who was the first to find his father's body.

But there was still something more.

Something that made him feel responsible for it all.

But why?

As Blue turned from the hallway into Electrical, he toiled over this feeling. He knew it well. He felt it throughout his life. When he had first dated his ex-wife, he felt like he wasn't who he said he was. When he got his first job at the ISP, he almost quit because he believed he was lying about his own achievements. Even during the last meeting with the other crewmates, when Purple vouched for him he wanted to cry, "No! It's me! I'm the impostor!"

Why was he so sure he was the killer? Blue would never harm a fly. At least, that's what he thought about himself. What if he truly was the impostor? What if he was lying to himself? What if he killed Pink? What if Pink was watching him right now, shaking his head at the audacity Blue had to lie?

As Blue wrestled with himself over his true innocence, the lights began to dim. He didn't hear the footsteps that scuffled behind him, nor did he hear the doors slamming soon after. He continued to mutter to himself, lost in his mind even as the person behind him slowly stepped towards him.

Poor Blue only realized he wasn't alone when he was repeatedly stabbed in the back. It was a quick five seconds of shinks and shanks, albeit a painful one. Blue's lungs quickly filled up with blood, drowning him from the inside out. As he fell to the ground, he hit his helmet on the floor, shattering it. With the last bit of his strength, he turned his head to see none other than Purple, staring down at him apologetically.

"I..t... was yo..u..?" Blue choked out.

Purple sighed, his face unreadable through the helmet.

"Yeah, I'm sorry-"

His apology was cut short by the relieved gargling laugh barked out by Blue.

"It was...n't... me..."

A relieved smile was plastered on his face, baffling Purple.

"No," Purple said, hesitantly. "It wasn't you."

He felt free for the first time in this ship, and not just because his spirit was floating out of his body as he died, but because his paranoia was incorrect.

That truly was all Blue needed to hear before he passed.

It wasn't Blue.