Chapter Text
“Athena?” Fiona shouted out; a tinge of anxiety coloring her voice.
The only response was the strange hushed ambient noise that seemed to emanate from the odd foliage that surrounded her. With a sigh, she trudged on; her boots crunching softly in the coarse gravel underfoot.
Weaving through the dense undergrowth, she silently cursed the lushness around her. Since Pandora wasn’t exactly known as a horticultural hotspot, Fiona had never seen so many plants in one place. Admittedly, at first she had been amazed; awestruck by the sight of such abundant life growing everywhere all at once. The towering trees, the verdant blooms, the glowing mushrooms of so many unusual hues; it had all been so much to take in at once.
She winced, remembering Athena’s surprise at Fiona’s wonderment of their surroundings as they had entered the main chamber of the sprawling complex. The seasoned vault hunter’s jaded reaction had made Fiona feel a bit like a simple-minded rube. However, in hindsight, it seemed the older woman had the right idea, keeping a cynical, untrustworthy eye open for any and all threats. If Fiona had followed her newfound mentor’s example, she might not have ended up in this predicament.
When she and Athena had set out on their little excursion to turn off the servers maintaining the facility’s computer firewalls for Rhys, they’d hoped it would get them all one step closer to pinpointing the location of Gortys’ next upgrade. After the pair had successfully powered down the Atlas security measures, they’d been confident they would find their way back to the control room with no trouble. And they probably would have if not for Fiona’s innocent curiosity.
Quickly, she squashed the creeping twist of guilt that snaked through her. It wasn’t necessarily her fault that the flock of freaky floating jellyfish-looking things had attacked them, even if she had poked at one as it bobbed by. She had just wanted to see what its shimmering rubbery texture felt like. How was she supposed to know they would all become so easily provoked into hostility?
As the amorphous creatures’ lustrous calming blue bodies had suddenly changed to a menacing radiant scarlet, they had surged at Fiona and her companion en masse. Batting away the intrusive beasts while trying to dodge the sharp electrifying zaps from their tendrils, she had run for safety amidst an overgrown thicket. After she had managed to lose the swarm, Fiona had found herself knee-deep in the middle of this vast artificial wilderness, completely alone.
“Athena?” She called out once more. Again, silence was her only reply.
Continuing her weary march, she flapped the fabric of her jacket in a half-hearted attempt to alleviate the stifling mugginess. Her clothes felt sticky and all-too snug from the humidity that permeated the greenhouse-like dome. Absent-mindedly, she reached up to tug at her hat only to remember she had used it as bait for those turrets back in Old Haven. Blowing out a frustrated huff, she displaced a chunk of hair that hung limply against her cheek. If she still had her favorite accessory on hand, she could have at least used it to fan herself.
That’s enough, she silently admonished. You’re a smart, capable woman. You’ve survived much worse than being lost in a weird jungle.
Revived by her internal pep talk, she decided her next course of action was to get her bearings. If she didn’t pick a direction soon, she would end up wandering in circles. After a thorough scan of her surroundings, she spotted what she had initially mistaken as the trunk of yet another uncommonly colored tree. Upon closer inspection, she recognized the dull sheen of an industrial-sized shipping container jutting out of the ground amid the colorful fat fungi and lush plumy ferns. The long gray box was tipped vertically, one end buried deep into a small hill.
Maybe my luck is about to change.
Making her way over to the inverted metal tube and up the gentle slope it rested atop, she carefully ascended the ribs of the crate’s case. The humidity made her hands clammy, affecting her ability to get a good purchase on the slick steel. After a couple of slips, she safely pulled herself to the top and peered over the edge. Up in the distance, Fiona spied the cloudy, distinctly shaped windows of the control room they had left behind when she and Athena had set out. Relief flooded through her at the sight. Rallied by the proposed safety of the little computer room, she crawled back down and set off.
As she traveled, she was surprised to stumble upon a barely discernible pathway. Peeking out between the abundant shrubbery, it seemed to lead in the direction of her destination. She began to follow the overgrown trail, confident this discovery would aid her in the trek back to sanctuary.
After dipping under the massive trunk of a toppled down tree, Fiona paused to catch her breath. This adventure was certainly turning into quite the hike. As she brushed at a yellow flaky pollen that marred the left sleeve of her coat, she noticed a strange disquieting hum hissing nearby.
She glanced around, trying to gauge where the sound was coming from. With no discernible origin, it seemed to be coming from everywhere; the entire jungle landscape vibrating with the unsettling whisper. Fear prickled across her skin making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Eventually, she was able to pinpoint the intimidating sound as issuing from a giant flower further ahead. Standing as tall as she, the strange plant was by far the largest specimen she’d seen amongst the other vegetation. Its gigantic head drooped languidly; the creamy white of its petals closed tightly, forming a huge bud. Two cone shaped protrusions, each framed by a fan of feathery leaves, sprouted from the thick stem and hung heavily at the end of sturdy vines. Gently, the oversized fronds shimmied as if being shaken by a stray breeze. Since the air lay as still as a damp blanket against her skin, she concluded that the plant must be generating the movement itself.
Uneasiness crept through her as she gauged her options. Before her, the path continued on, hopefully toward the lift to the control room, but in her way was this unnerving flora. Briefly, Fiona considered forging her own course through the surrounding vegetation but quickly thought better of it. The heavy canopy of the towering trees overhead encompassed the area in shadows. She didn’t relish the thought of stumbling around in the gloomy woods again, certain she would end up getting lost once more.
Apprehensive but undaunted, she took a few cautious steps forward.
The plant increased in its quivering dance, vibrating more intensely with each hesitant pace she made.
A chill ran down her spine. Fiona flicked her wrist, activating the mechanism that sent her derringer out of her sleeve. Taking the gun in hand, she continued her wary advancement. She kept a careful eye on the intimidating bud as she skirted around it, ensuring to give it as wide a berth as possible.
In a flash, the flower opened its enormous head, fanning the leathery fabric of its petals in a grotesque display. A row of ferocious looking needle-like protrusions along its lobes glinted in the shadowy light, transforming the inner pink flaps of its bloom into horrifying toothy jaws. Out from the center of the flower whipped a long undulating pistil, dripping with a noxiously green mucus. With a practiced twitch, the plant launched a gob of the viscous spittle directly at Fiona’s head.
Miraculously, she managed to dodge just in time to avoid getting a face full of the nasty spray. Instead, it splattered against her cheek with a wet glop. She sputtered as the foul smelling gunk dribbled into her mouth; the rancid earthy flavor making her want to retch.
Waylaid by the startling spitball, Fiona was a step too slow as she turned to make her escape. Continuing its ambush, the flailing pistil lashed around her left arm in a powerful grip. The bloodthirsty flora violently yanked her forward into its gaping maw.
As it closed its petals around her arm, pronged tines cleaved straight through the tough leather of her jacket like a hot knife through butter and buried deep into the soft flesh of her shoulder and underarm.
White hot pain snatched the air from her lungs, turning her shriek of agony into an anguished gasp. Terror coiled in her gut as its slimy tongue-like appendage slithered tightly up and down her arm, attempting to coax her further into its moist prison. A syrupy goo bubbled up at the tips of her fingers, wafting a faint but alarming heat.
At last, her adrenaline kicked in, awakening her survival instincts. Balling her left hand into a fist, she managed to avoid the acid that boiled in the well of the flower. Instinctively, she planted her feet and pulled, trying to extract herself from the plant’s grasp. The razor sharp teeth embedded in her body bore deeper, shredding through her skin. An agonized scream ripped from her throat. Despite her efforts, the fearsome grip held firm. She had to find some way to get it to loosen its clutch; otherwise, she was going to lose her arm.
Suddenly, she remembered her trusty derringer, still held in her free hand. Thanks to the apparatus that cinched the pistol to her forearm, she hadn’t dropped it in the attack. She hastily pressed the tiny gun against the head of the flower and fired. The bullet punched into the fibrous flap of its petal. Completely unfazed, it steadily held her hostage. The gun was just too small to have enough of an impact.
Panic began to set in fully; her heart tripping in her chest. Her eyes dashed around as she searched for something, anything that could help her.
Bright lights gleaming in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Red shimmered past followed by a blue strobing effect. Her head woozy with pain, she slowly realized it was the conical protrusions she had noticed earlier, now lit from within by some inner luminescence.
Swiftly, Fiona tried to take aim at one of the shimmering strobiles. She fired. The bullet went wide, embedding into the ground with a puff of dirt.
I have to get the damn thing to stop moving so much.
Somewhere in her terrified mind, an idea blossomed. Twisting her left wrist, she managed to wrap a hand around the sinuous pistil and sink her meager fingernails in a slimy but firm grasp.
Stiffening the muscles of her trapped arm, she slowly bent her elbow deep within the moist confines of the flower’s maw. Every little movement she struggled to make heightened the agony radiating from her shoulder. Nevertheless, she was intent on winning her freedom.
This is not how I die, eaten by some fucking flower!
Screaming in frustration and pain, she gave the appendage a sudden and violent jerk. In her mind’s eye, she imagined ripping the disgusting organ away.
With an eerie human-like shriek, the flower opened its petals once more, loosening its grip on her shoulder. She stumbled, off balance from the abrupt release. Terror drove her to act.
Frenzied, she lunged for one of the flailing conical buds that whipped by and stomped down hard on the viney attachment, pinning it to the ground. It wiggled desperately beneath her foot.
Hissing in a gasp of air, she held her breath to steady her aim. She squeezed off a shot point blank into the bulbous cone. The bullet shattered it, splattering fleshy chunks all over her shoe.
Taking quick aim at the other bulb as it fluttered weakly, she finished the monstrous flora off.
With a swift step out of the way, Fiona avoided the flower as it collapsed; its lengthy pistil extended limply from its sagging lifeless petals. The gigantic leathery head hit the dirt with a dull thud, spilling forth a steaming gurgly mess from deep within. The acidic liquid bubbled and seethed as it leaked out, blazing a scorching trail across the ground. A vile stench of hot decaying plant matter smacked her in the face like an open hand.
She staggered away on wooden legs, careful to watch her step. Coming to rest at a nearby tree, she leaned her back against the sturdy trunk and doubled over. She panted, her chest heaving with each tortured breath. Right arm wrapped around her waist, she bit back the urge to vomit the meager contents of her stomach.
Rapidly, the buzz of adrenaline drained from her body. She shakily swiped the back of her hand against the gunk that coated her cheek, smearing it along her right sleeve. In doing so, she belatedly realized her gun was still extended from its apparatus.
Impulsively, she reached for the little pistol, attempting to holster it with her opposite hand. A startled cry of pain escaped her as a shock of profound agony radiated straight down her arm from her injured shoulder. Hanging limply at her side, the appendage was useless. Fingers outstretched so as to not accidentally bump the trigger, she pressed the gun into her thigh and managed to ratchet it back into its brace.
As she straightened from the tree, all the blood rushed out of her head. She blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness from her vision. Despite the feverish heat that burned like fire across her skin, she trembled with chills that shook her entire frame. Unable to quell the shaking, she realized something was very, very wrong.
Oh, no. Oh, dear god.
Foreboding wrapped its icy fist around her heart, propelling her into action. Dazedly, she stumbled forward. She had to get out to safety. Then she could figure out what was going on.
Her trek to the lift seemed to take an eternity. Each stumbling step felt like her last. Only the memory of her baby sister kept her on her feet.
I can’t abandon Sasha. Not like this. Not after Felix. She’ll be all alone.
The thoughts tumbled over and over in her mind as she pushed forward one excruciating pace at a time.
At last, she made it to her destination, the hydraulic lift. The welcome sound of her boots clinking across the metal grate underfoot sounded like music to her ears. As she reached for the switch to activate the elevator, she was alarmed by the lack of sensation that pervaded her fingertips.
Yanking the wall lever, a shrill double beep chirped and the lift’s mechanism grumbled to life. Lightheaded, she slumped against the cage. As she watched the ground below grow further and further away, a surreal sense of floating swept her away as she ascended.
The jolt of the elevator coming to a halt on the upper platform level smashed her back to reality and threw her stomach up into her throat. A spiral of vertigo set her swaying on her feet. Delirious, she slapped her palm against the dull steel of the door to catch her balance. Resting her sweaty forehead against the slightly chilled surface, she frantically tried to collect her wits.
As she ran her hand over the smooth finish of the door, she was at a loss as to how to open it. Off to the side, a small glowing button caught her eye. Seeing double, she reached to press it, only to miss by a few inches. She tried again, but missed once more. Finally with a desperate whack with her utterly deadened hand, the door to the control room slid open with a whir.
Displaced from her resting position, she lurched across the threshold. As a fresh wave of lightheadedness crashed in on her, she doubled over; her body wracked by unrelenting tremors.
“Fiona?” Distantly, she heard a man’s voice. “Oh my god!”
Blinking back the black dots that danced in her vision, she peered up at Rhys. To her increasingly muddled mind, he appeared to be miles away, backlit by the fluorescent orange glow of the computer consoles behind him. His ECHO eye shone brightly in the cloudy shadows of his face. Like a moth with a flame, she was enchanted by the brilliant blue. A bizarre flush of euphoria suffused her as she gazed at him.
“Rhys?” She couldn’t be sure if she had spoken his name aloud or just thought it in a desperate invocation.
Her throat hurt as she swallowed, trying to combat the excess saliva that pooled in her mouth. Wetting her lips, she tasted a bitter metallic tang. She drunkenly staggered closer.
In a few quick strides, his long legs made short work of the distance between them. The comforting weight of his hand upon her right shoulder anchored her slightly amid the tempest that raged within her.
“Fiona, what happened?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
Her thoughts raced, inconsistent and erratic. Befuddled, she opened and closed her mouth soundlessly as she tried to formulate the words needed to answer him. A razor’s edge of panic cleaved through her as she grappled for an explanation that eluded her. Her knees buckled as another surge of vertigo washed over her. Overcome, she reached out to him, desperately clutching at his vest in an attempt to ground herself.
“Help me,” she pleaded weakly.
Powerless to stave off the inexorable storm of disorientation and terror any longer, her considerable will finally gave out as she succumbed to the poison that coursed through her veins. The inky darkness that danced at the edge of her consciousness overwhelmed her, swallowing her whole. As her body went limp, she collapsed in his arms.