The Divergent Helix

a short story by Rachel Searcey

Murky water dotted with detritus flowed over my galoshes. The stream started in the lobby of the abandoned aquarium and flowed down the basement stairs. My headlamp barely penetrated the soupy darkness below. Summer rain clambered through gaping holes in the roof and pattered on my helmet with constant heavy drops.

The wooden handrail had long since rotted, leaving the rusty metal brackets, but the concrete steps seemed stable. I lifted my foot to step down but drew back. Would Val and Capri really come here?

Instinct told me to return to my car parked in the overgrown lot and escape to safety. But I promised everyone in the forums I would find Val and Capri. To turn back with nothing would make me look like a fool. The police said they couldn’t be found; the trail had gone cold. Even Val and Capri’s families had given up. But I wouldn’t.

As their number one fan, I tracked their last known coordinates from illegally obtained phone records and talked to the locals to find this damn place in the middle of nowhere. All on my own.

Soggy linoleum broke apart and slid down the steps with a splash. The entire basement must be flooded. It was the last place to investigate before moving on. I have no choice.

Fog swirled through the high-beam and dark lichen coated the walls like carpet. I couldn’t smell much through the industrial-grade safety-mask, but I imagined the air was musty with spores.

I needed to know what happened to Val and Capri. I’d followed them on social media since before they became Val and Capri: Urban Explorers. They were the unstoppable, adorable duo who made me feel like I was adventuring with them through my phone’s tiny screen.

Hot air prickled on my exposed skin. Sweat itched inside my full-body wetsuit. I scratched at myself, clumsy with the work gloves.

Capri wouldn’t hesitate.

The next step shifted underfoot and I slipped in long algae, flowing like hair in the current. With nothing to break my fall, I slid to the bottom, helmet rattling against the steps. Black spots swam before me and I shook them away. My lower back was bruised and the back of my head ached, despite the helmet cushioning most of the blow. Val had recommended it on their “Top 10 Hottest Urbex Gear” video series. This was my first time attempting my own expedition and I had spent all my savings on new gear.

The water was freezing, even through the thick suit and galoshes. But it didn’t make any sense in the middle of summer. Blood pumped in my ears and my heart hammered out a rapid beat below my sternum. I willed myself to breathe—steady, in and out.

Mildewed doors stood askance on rickety hinges, opening into various passageways to the east and west.

Insect legs like needles clambered over my wrist, where the bodysuit didn’t quite meet the glove. I yanked my hand away, flinging a long white bug into the water with a splash.

From a tiny hole in the wall, the pale head of a millipede emerged, tentacles waving. Its white, segmented body was tinged bloody red. The carapace shone under the headlamp as it scuttled out of the light to burrow into another hole.

Twenty years of neglect turned the aquarium above into a desolate graveyard to abandoned sea animals. The owners fled without bothering to release or re-home them. Their bleached bones remained in the glass graves above. I imagined gallons of aquarium water, fed by summer rains, dissolving the linoleum and rotting away the floors to settle in the basement. It was tragic and the reason Val and Capri had chosen this place. It made for a good story.

A sign on a broken door read Research Laboratory. Capri’s morbid curiosity would have led her through there. This gave me the courage to continue on. If they left some clue behind, maybe I’d find it.

Several of the fans, including myself, held onto the belief Val and Capri ran off together. They wanted to escape the spotlight, drop off the face of the planet, become anonymous. Who could blame them? The couple were in talks with Lifetime, Discovery, National Geographic. People recognized them on the street. Val and Capri weren’t just mine anymore. They belonged to everybody.

I fought the urge to go back upstairs and leave this place.

What if I find them?

I searched for Val and Capri’s trail marker: a beautiful curly arrow in Capri’s signature style.

My headlamp cut a swathe through the dark room, falling on long aluminum tables. The drywall sagged in sheets, leaving exposed supports now black with mold. A sudden gust of warm air sent waves of condensation billowing upwards. The water dropped in level as I moved through the room, only coming to my knees.

For a moment I could see the entire room and there…neon pink arrows with Capri and Val’s initials pointing towards a crumbling hole in the drywall. I crouched to look inside. It led to a short tunnel lined with wet earth that opened into a larger space. The strengthening current pushed past my legs and down the opening. A writhing mass of ghostly pale millipedes coated the tunnel walls. My stomach turned over. Some were as big as my forefinger and long as my arm. They ran over and under each other in never ending undulation, dipping in and out of holes in the packed earth.

I fumbled for the high-powered Maglite on my utility belt and lit up the underground cavity. Water streamed past in gurgles and eddies echoing like a distant waterfall.

My galoshes sank into the silt up to my ankles and I had to fight the suction to move forwards. The millipedes skittered away from my light, some diving into the water to escape. They dropped onto my helmet and shoulders in cascading waves. With a shudder I brushed them away in wriggling handfuls. They clung to my gloves with too many legs and I crushed them without remorse.

Soon I was able to stand to my full height in a small cavern. Capri’s signature scrawled across the low ceiling tunnel directed me north.

I kept on, encouraged by the neon pink trail markers. Warm air blew from an unknown source, traveling across the water. My upper body was sweating while my lower extremities fought off the cold. As the water level rose, the tunnel roof seemed to lower. Pale millipedes crawled across every surface, in and out of the oddly arranged holes that increased in frequency and size, becoming large enough for me to put my head through. I shuddered at the thought.

The cacophony of running water careened off the walls, echoing around me, and played in harmony with the constant dripping from the tunnel roof. My head rang and I wanted to turn back. But the tunnel dead-ended ahead, where the fog pooled and swirled to reveal another of Capri’s markers.

My helmet scraped on the low ceiling and jostled the headlamp so hard the elastic came free. It fell into the water and settled in the silt, still shining through the murk.

Shit.

I set my safety mask, goggles, and gloves into a cluster of large holes in the wall. I took a deep breath of dank air, hoping it wouldn’t be enough to make me sick, and dove. With eyes closed, the headlamp shone red through my eyelids. I reached towards it and caught the elastic.

My hand brushed against a smooth rock. It moved out of the way. Thick segmented ridges ran beneath my open palm. Legs like pincers closed around my wrist. I thrashed away and rose to the surface.

Freezing water streamed from my helmet as I scrambled to reattach the light. The headlamp swept across the disturbed surface, casting strange reflections on the roof and the large holes.

I’m going to die down here in the dark and no one will know or care.

The realization caught me by surprise but I fought to remain calm. I put on the gloves and goggles, settled the safety mask on my face. Then I saw it, tucked into the same hole where I’d kept my gear—a GoPro camera, still in its waterproof case. It sat in a pool of sticky lichen, deep red and green. I brushed away the millipedes and picked it up.

My heart thudded in my chest. I could still taste the silt in the back of my throat. Smell the mildewed air in my nostrils. With shaking fingers, I wiped the GoPro clean and pressed the power button. The small screen lit up, presenting me with a list of video files.

FILE 0001: 06-03-2019_AQUAURBEX

Val stands in front of the camera and checks the composition. His chiseled, unshaven jaw twitches as he poses and throws a peace sign. Capri leans against the decrepit aquarium sign and fluffs her wavy blond hair. She applies a thick layer of glitter lip gloss and makes a duck face at her reflection in a compact mirror.

“Are you done setting up yet?” Capri says. “This place looks like a shit hole. And it’s too fucking hot out here.” She snaps the compact shut.

Val breaks from posing and rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you lost some weight, you wouldn’t be sweating your fat ass off.”

Capri throws him a dirty look. “It’s not my fault. The free meal plan from Jenny Craig makes me bloat. The contract is up in a few weeks and then I’ll juice.”

“Sure.”

Val joins her in front of the sign and runs his hands through his shoulder length brunette locks.

Capri asks, “How do I look?”

Val examines her appearance with his arms crossed. “You have lip gloss all over your teeth.”

“Fuck. The Jenners sent me a lifetime supply of that lip gloss and it’s so gross.” Capri scrubs at her teeth with the pad of her finger. Her nails are tipped with elaborately decorated acrylics, complete with gemstones. She bares her teeth at Val for his inspection and he nods in approval.

“Let’s get this over with.”

They both turn towards the camera with their arms around each other and plaster on glowing smiles.

“Hey y’all!” they say in unison. “It’s time for Val and Capri: Urban Explorers!”

“Today, we’re checking out an aquarium that was abandoned in 2005.”

“Oh, how spooky Val!”

“The real treat is the secret research facility in the basement. Who knows what we’ll find.” Val throws the peace sign at the camera, his signature move.

“I can’t wait!” Capri bounces like a little girl. She twirls, hair floating around her. “I’m so glad I wore my new gear by American Academy, your source for…fuck!”

“Goddammit, Capri. What now?”

“It’s not American Academy it’s…ugh, why can’t I think of the stupid name.” She searches for a label on her clothes. “Help me!”

Val lets out a dramatic sigh and roughly pulls down the back of her jacket in search of the label. She stumbles backwards.

“You pulled my hair, you ass. These extensions aren’t cheap!” She clutches at her scalp, her face twisted in pain.

Val’s face is like stone. “It’s Sports and Outdoors. Don’t fuck it up on the next take.”

He stalks over to the camera and Capri wipes away tears as he shuts it off.

The video ended and I stood there, not comprehending for a moment what I watched. This wasn’t the Val and Capri I knew, the face they showed their fans. They were…ugly. Their relationship was ideal, untouchable. So I thought.

They were tired, that was all. A video clip didn’t change my love for them.

I glanced at the pink scrawl, warm water dripping onto my fogged goggles. They were real people, not characters on a TV show. So what if Val and Capri weren’t always happy and in love? It’s not like I had anything to compare it to. I was angry with myself for being so naive. Of course they were different when the cameras were off.

It was up to me to find them, still. No one else would do it. No one else cared.

I turned to the right. They left these markers for me to follow. The frigid water rose to my chest and the ceiling pressed down until I was crouching.

Had they really come all this way? I passed numerous tunnels, off shooting in every direction. Some led upwards to dry caverns, some into deeper water. Every time I was about to give up hope and turn around, there was another marker.

The millipedes increased in density. They slid from holes in the walls, slithered through the dense moss. Thick, segmented bodies. Pale legs, hundreds holding tight against the tunnel wall. Once in a while, one would drop from the ceiling and splash into the water. With a shiver I remembered the enormous thing that had closed around my wrist.

I took a step forward and the tunnel floor fell away in a sharp drop, sending me face-first underwater. The waterlogged backpack dragged me to the bottom. Dirty water sluiced down my throat as the safety mask fell away. I sank to my elbows into sediment that pulled at me like quicksand. The gloves were lost in the muck, along with my wrist compass. I couldn’t see. Everything was cold and dark.

Fighting against the heavy backpack, I pushed myself to the surface. Sticky silt clung to my exposed skin and water streamed from my mouth and nostrils, burning as it came up, leaving behind a gritty residue I could taste in the back of my throat. Wiping the mud out of my eyes, I realized it was pitch black. I felt the top of my helmet. The headlamp had come loose of its elastic. I couldn’t even see the dull glow underwater. The goggles and safety mask hung around my neck, now useless and clotted with mud.

I fumbled with numb fingers for the Maglite still attached to my utility belt and found Capri’s marker above me. The sight steadied my mind. As long as I could see her markers, I could get back to the surface.

I have to get out of here. Val and Capri…I love you but I can’t do it.

Leaning against the wall, I opened the backpack and prayed my phone was still dry in its waterproof bag. I dug through soggy energy bars and found it at the bottom, next to Val’s GoPro. The bag was intact. The phone screen powered on and I moaned aloud with relief. My voice echoed down the tunnel like a ghostly cry.

But there was no signal.

Don’t panic.

I just needed to get to higher ground, that was all.

FILE 0011: 06-04-2019_AQUAURBEX

Val trails behind Capri, following her through the flooded underground tunnel. Capri reaches overhead and sprays a marker.

“Do you have extra cans?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at Val. Her face is peaked and pale. Her hair hangs like a knotted rope down her back.

The camera shuffles and tilts, then rights itself as Val tosses Capri a small pink canister.

“That’s the last one. Maybe we should turn back. I don’t have any batteries left for the GoPro either.” His voice sounds strained, tired.

Capri turns on him, arms crossed. “Quitting already?” Her eyes are like black spheres, pupils dilated fully in the dark, her jaw set in anger. “I want to see what’s down here.” She turns around without waiting for him to respond and trudges onward, her headlamp flashing against the tunnel walls. Wriggling masses of millipedes cover every surface above water.

“Wait! Jesus Christ. Don’t wander off on your own. It’s like a maze.”

Val catches up with her but she refuses to look at him.

There’s an echoing splash behind them and Val whips the camera around.

“Did you hear that?”

Capri moves into frame. “You’re hearing things. There’s nothing here except us.”

A crackling, scuttling sound fills the small speaker, horribly distorted through the waterproof case. Val drops the GoPro and the image flips upside down for a moment before righting itself at water level.

Mud sloshes against the lens, obscuring the image as it dips below water. Segmented bodies as thick as a man’s leg emerge from the silty bottom, to wind around the couple’s legs. The camera resurfaces and Val and Capri’s pale faces glow in the dark against the black backdrop of the tunnel roof. Capri clings to Val, confusion flitting across their faces. The scratching noises blur into a buzz of distortion, so loud that Val and Capri cover their ears.

Val rescues the GoPro from the water and points it at the ceiling directly above them.

“What’s that noise?”

The aperture adjusts until the night vision triggers—washed out and surreal. The GoPro is unable to capture the depth of the tunnel on the camera’s digital sensor and it appears grainy, blurred. A segmented body, sickly white as ivory, uncoils from the darkness. Mandibles chittering, its head fills the hole and pushes towards them. It stretches to its full length—several feet of writhing exoskeleton twist and curl as legs unfurl from its pale underbelly.

Capri screams. Val drops the GoPro and yanks Capri away by her backpack. The video jostles up and down, catching only fragments of splashing water, the tunnel walls. Capri falls into the water and emerges, her face a mask of terror.

“We’re going the wrong way! I can’t see our markers!” Capri’s voice screeches over the speakers, drowned out by the sound of rushing water and insect legs clicking against stone.

Val pants, trying to keep up with Capri running ahead of him. The GoPro slaps against his chest and catches glimpses of white shapes moving in the water. “Keep running!”

“I see a light. This isn’t right. It’s not right! It’s a cave. We haven’t been here…” Capri disappears into the darkness ahead, lost around a curve in the tunnel.

“Capri!”

Val rounds the corner and the screen brightens. A path of rocks rises from the flooded tunnel and leads to a large cavern. Capri stands beneath light streaming from a crevice high above in the cavern ceiling. It is dry as a bone and the untouched sandy floor is littered with small animal bones. They crunch underfoot as Val rights the GoPro and runs over to Capri, pointing it towards the crevice. Blue sky winks through, mottled with white fluffy clouds.

“Val! We’re saved!” She cups her hands and screams, again and again. “HELP!”

“This will make a great episode.” He high fives Capri, who is now smiling. “You look like hell, though.”

Capri’s eyes go cold as she turns on him, all joy lost. “I fucking hate you.”

Val scoffs. “What are you going to do about it?”

“After this I want out. I can’t do this anymore. This was the worst expedition yet. There are easier ways to earn a living. I thought this time would be different.”

“Now who’s quitting?”

Capri shoots him a dirty look and instead focuses on searching the cavern. Val chuckles under his breath. “That’s what I thought.”

Capri whips around to look at him. “What did you say? Fuck, I don’t have a signal.” She holds her phone up in the shaft of light and looks to Val.

“Negative.”

Val walks away from her and crouches to examine the tunnel they escaped from.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before. Giant bugs? I’ll have to examine the footage when we get back. Excited about what we will find.” He swings the camera around to Capri. “Hey, we can bring in a specialist. Like a scientist who knows all about bugs.”

Capri stands with her hands on her hips. “We have to get out of here first.” She walks along the perimeter. “It’s a dead end. We’ll have to climb out.” She gestures towards the crevice above. “Where’s the hook and grapple?”

“Didn’t bring it. It’s back at the car.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Capri grits her teeth and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sick of you and your bullshit.”

“You’re one to talk.”

The cold eyes again. “I’m not going to die, trapped in here with you.” She walks away from him and wades into the tunnel again, as if weighing her chances.

“So, what, you’re going to trek back through there?” Val frames Capri against the infinite darkness of the tunnel gaping behind her. “And get past whatever those bugs were? We need to go up, not down.” He stands behind her, shoving the GoPro in her face. She swats it away but he brings it back, too close.

“How the fuck are we supposed to do that, genius? Without the gear you were supposed to bring. It’s not optional, Val. It’s basic protocol. Get that thing out of my face.”

She swats at it again, forcing it to swing around to Val’s profile. He’s grinning like an idiot, watching Capri implode.

“Watch the gear, babe.” The camera points towards the tunnel, where Capri starts wading in. “Look, I’m sorry! I’m turning it off—”

The screen goes black.

After searching the water for the compass and my headlamp with no result, I decided it was best to focus on getting to the surface. The Maglite worked but keeping my hand above water and trying to crouch became tedious. My shoulders and back ached. The helmet kept brushing against the ceiling with loud scrapes that amplified my growing headache. Mold spores invaded my sinuses until rivers of mucus ran from my irritated nostrils into my mouth, mixed with gritty silt. My eyes felt swollen, irritated, and it was painful to blink.

I imagined the tunnel rose to an incline as I neared the surface, but in my exhausted haze, I stopped looking for Capri’s markers. There was only the one tunnel, with no branching corridors like I’d seen before. Was I lost? The compass wasn’t working on my phone. It spun in random movements and I couldn’t get my bearings.

The fog thinned but the heat still weighed on me like a blanket. After walking so long, my feet had long ago gone numb. I kept the flashlight trained on the ceiling and followed it. The insects no longer hid from the beam. They hung above me; thick white bodies emerging from black holes and twisting into others. Splashes around me as they dropped into the water. I was hypnotized by their endlessly coiling movements. I couldn’t hold my head up any longer and I lowered myself into the water, letting the current push me forwards. Cold water crept across my neck, offering some relief. I was joined by wriggling legs, swimming with the current, diving and dipping then coming back to the surface to swim beside me. I was one of them, treading blindly in the dark.

The tunnel curved. I was able to stand to my full height as the ground rose beneath me onto dry land. Fresh air washed over me, trickling through the stagnant, musty heat in the tunnel.

My knees gave out as soon as I stepped out of the water. I knelt on the sharp rocks, aware, but I felt nothing. My teeth chattered like a wind-up toy and I collapsed on my side. The last thing I saw was rain dripping from a crack in the ceiling, spraying droplets into a pool lined with small, white bones.

FILE 0012: 06-10-2019_AQUAURBEX

Capri crouches in front of the GoPro. Her breathing is ragged and noisy, too close to the microphone. She moves away. Dried blood stains her arms and tank top. Her face is gaunt as a skeleton and her glossy eyes dart back and forth.

“There’s no more food. It’s a matter of time now. I can’t get out. The things in the tunnels…”

Capri goes quiet, as if listening. Tears well up in her eyes and she wipes them away with dirty hands.

“If someone finds this…tell my mom that I love her and I’m sorry. I should’ve listened…” She buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Oh God, Val. How did this happen? I’m sorry, so sorry…” She clutches at her stomach. A moan escapes from her, rising to a wail.

The video ends.

Capri lay against the wall, her neck canted at an awkward angle against her sunken chest. Blond hair extensions hung limply from her decayed scalp.

White millipedes crawled in and out of holes riddling her corpse. Nearby, her discarded wetsuit lay in a crumpled pile next to Val’s body. He lay face down, the back of his head caved in. Dim sunlight lit up the cave from above, highlighting his beautiful auburn hair. I did something I’d always wanted: ran my hands through it. His hair was soft, like an animal’s pelt. Capri must have smashed him over the head with a large rock that lay where it fell, in a splotch of red sand next to pieces of his skull.

The millipedes wormed underneath his wetsuit, causing a rippling effect across his entire body, as if he were still alive and breathing.

Sweat beaded on my skin and I wiped it away with shaking hands. I felt faint. Black dots flashed across my vision and I struggled to focus. I had the GoPro in one hand, and the Maglite in the other, but where was my backpack?

Rain pattered through the crevice into a small pool in the center of the cavern. Animal bones stuck up at odd angles from the clear water. It was quiet, unlike the tunnels where everything echoed.

They should be together.

I managed to get Val on his back. The millipedes scattered, pouring off of his body in waves. They ran over my hands and across the sand. I set him against the wall near Capri and left a space in between for myself.

My undershirt soaked in clean rain water wiped the blood from their desiccated corpses. Their eyes dried to sunken hollows and wouldn’t open. I arranged their hands to cross on their laps, straightening their postures to look more natural.

I brushed their hair with my fingers and smoothed it away from their faces. The millipedes scuttled around me, climbing the wall behind their heads and getting underfoot. I shooed them away.

The GoPro still had battery power. I framed up Val and Capri and pushed record.

Sitting between them, I took each of their hands and pulled them in close. I had to make this quick, before the GoPro shut off.

“Hi everyone! I’m Kai, here with my friends Val and Capri. This is our last urbex and we hope you enjoyed it!” I threw a peace sign, since Val couldn’t, and blew a kiss at the camera for Capri. “Be sure to click like and subscribe.”

The red light on the GoPro blinked once and then died. My head rested on Capri’s shoulder. Beneath the smell of rot there was the faintest trace of lavender and thyme. Even in death, her face was perfection. The high cheek bones. Arched eyebrows. The delicate swoop of neck into collarbone.

This isn’t how I imagined us meeting.

Val shifted and fell against me. His broad shoulder dug into my ribs but I didn’t mind. I put an arm around him and pulled him closer. When I closed my eyes, the sound of millipedes shifting through the sands at our feet lulled me into a doze.

My eyes were crusty with grit and it hurt to close them. I felt hollow, so empty.

Out of the corner of my vision, the massive white head of a millipede broke the surface of the water at the tunnel’s mouth. White and bulbous, it sloughed off muddy water. Stalk-like tentacles tickled the air in rapid movements. The millipede stretched and wove itself onto the cave floor, a seemingly endless stretch of segments. Its body curled about the open cave, scuttling in twisting patterns as it wove around and over itself. Tiny brethren crawled through the deep trough left by thousands of jointed legs following one after the other—mechanical in their efficiency. Rain drops peppered its back like jewels and slid into the sand.

A sense of calm washed over me, as I sat there between Val and Capri. Through swollen eyelids, I watched the creature weave about the room, slowly working its way towards us.

The millipede reared up, towering over us. Its grotesque silhouette against the cave ceiling weaved back and forth, tentacles tasting the air. The soft underbelly, the twitching leg segments, its hungry mandibles. I readied myself for death.

It lowered to the sandy floor and its tentacles brushed against my face, pushed through my hair. I turned away. My heart thudded in my chest. It was difficult to breathe.

Sand shifted around us with small swishing sounds. I felt its cold carapace scrape my legs and then its head settled into my lap. I exhaled and opened my eyes. The tentacles twitched and brushed against my face, but were otherwise still. The rest of its massive body lay curled around the cave like the Midgard serpent.

Val, Kai, and Capri—together, as we were always meant to be.

Rachel is a bi-racial—Indian and white—filmmaker living in the Florida panhandle with her husband, two children, and three cats who has recently ventured into prose after over two decades of producing indie horror. She loves filmmaking, assembling miniature DIY dollhouses, and jigsaw puzzles with her kids. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Cosmic Horror Monthly, Flash Point SF, Aphotic Realm, Dark Void Magazine, and PulpCult’s Unspeakable Vol II. To learn more, visit agirlandhergoldfish.com