𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓 ⸻⸻ [SPLATOON]

iii.┊sudden depth

sudden depth

chpt. 3

⸻⸻⸻⸻ alterna : future utopia island

17,480 KEPT HER bamboozler trained on the blue inkling, her yellow-lavender eyes focused on him. His facial features looked familiar, like she'd seen him before, but...

"You don't remember?" The stranger asked, his once happy expression morphing into a more dejected, sad, one. "I've been looking for you, everywhere!"

She paused, keeping her weapon pinned on him, but she slowly began to lower it down toward the snowy ground. 17,480 parted her lips as to say something, anything, but it completely slipped her mind like a fleeting dream. 

"You do remember," the stranger said once more, "don't you?" He slowly and carefully began to reach for her hand, and entwined their fingers together. Something inside of her bubbled and fizzed in her stomach; the feelings felt so familiar to 17,480, yet she didn't seem to remember the brown-eyed boy in front of her.

"No," 17,480 started, pulling her arm away from his grasp. "No, I don't."

The stranger reached for her hand again, but she slipped through his grasp quickly. He swiftfly grabbed her wrist and held it with a firm hand. Something in 17,480 yelled at her, screamed at her to get away; but no matter how hard she tried to pull away, the stranger's grasp was stronger.

"Get away from me! Let me go!" The stranger tried pulling her towards him, but she dug the heels of her red-and-white snow boots into the plush, white, snow. He was strong, she'd give him that.

"Don't you remember me?" He stopped pulling on her arm but kept his hand tightly locked around his wrist. "It's me, Ivory-"

"Ivory?!" 17480 voiced. "I-I'm not Ivory-"

"But you are," The stranger breathed, his eyes sparkling in the dazzling, setting sun. "You are..." He sighed again, dreamy-like.

"I am not!" She declared, attempting once more to slip from out of his grasp.

"Hey!" A familiar voice yelled from behind 17,480. "Leave her alone!"

Shell ran in front of 17480, her arms wide open and breathing heavily. In one hand she held one of the few enhanced weapons from the Metro–an octoshot, and in the other she held a rusty Parrot knife. The stranger seemed to freeze at the sight of the two weapons, his muscles tight with fear.

"She knows who I am!" The stranger insisted, his eyes glued to the rusted knife in the octoling's hands. She slowly edged forward, her weapon aimed at his neck, and he raised his hands up defensively. "I swear!"

Shell hummed, her eyes narrowed as she thought. She pointed to the boy's neon-colored Luna Blaster. "Drop it," she ordered, "and kick it to me."

And so he did– he unlatched the gun from his belt, set it on the ground, and kicked it over to her; as it plowed through the frozen turf, the soft snow spilled over the phosphorescent weapon. Shell quickly plucked it from the ground from which it lay, moving her original weapon to the hand which held the knife. She pointed the brightly-colored weapon on the stranger, her expression stern and taught with rage.

"Now," she said, a cold puff of air emitting from her lips, "why do you think 17,480 is the Girl from Inkopolis?"

"I don't think, I know!"

Shell mentally facepalmed, but held her firm expression. "Well, how do you know?" Silence ensued, wind whipping the delicate snowflakes through the harsh gusts of bitter air. Shell scoffed and turned away. "That's what I thought–"

Then, at that moment, the stranger lunged from 17,480, pulling her back into him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, shaking her. "You have to remember me, Ivory, you do, don't you?"
17,480's octoling friend whipped around, all three of her weapons aimed at him in an instant.

 "What are you doing?!" She yelled, thrusting the small knife further into the air.
Suddenly, something sharp was injected into her left arm, and she opened her mouth to scream.

But nothing came out.

Black, hazy circles dotted her vision and her limbs began to feel weak.

"What did you d-"

Before 17,480's eyes could fully close, she watched as Shell's unconscious form collapsed into the soft, white snow, and within seconds, droplets of purple-brown ink littered the ground around her friend's body.

----

edit date: ----

word count: 684