Thorne froze. "There is nothing outside but miles of water, Chief." "Is there?" she whispered, pointing to the thick viewport.
The ocean floor was silent, save for the rhythmic, unsettling hum of the USS Nocturne , a modified experimental submarine traversing the deepest trenches of the Atlantic. Commander Elias Thorne checked the sonar again. Nothing. But the atmosphere inside the sub was thick, smelling faintly of ozone and crushed lavender, a scent that defied the sterile, metallic smell of the ship.
He moved toward the engine room. The air grew thicker, heavier with that impossible scent. Inside, the lights were dimmed to a soft crimson. He found Chief Engineer Rostova staring into a flickering console. "Chief," Thorne said.
Thorne froze. "There is nothing outside but miles of water, Chief." "Is there?" she whispered, pointing to the thick viewport.
The ocean floor was silent, save for the rhythmic, unsettling hum of the USS Nocturne , a modified experimental submarine traversing the deepest trenches of the Atlantic. Commander Elias Thorne checked the sonar again. Nothing. But the atmosphere inside the sub was thick, smelling faintly of ozone and crushed lavender, a scent that defied the sterile, metallic smell of the ship. File: Submarines_and_succubi.7z ...
He moved toward the engine room. The air grew thicker, heavier with that impossible scent. Inside, the lights were dimmed to a soft crimson. He found Chief Engineer Rostova staring into a flickering console. "Chief," Thorne said. Thorne froze