42 anti and host
This one took me a while. Have some Among Us!AU with Imposter!Host. Dr. Iplierst if you squint.
Trigger warnings for knife use, blood, death
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Prompt 42: “I can’t hold on much longer.”
Three crewmates left. One imposter. The metaphorical clock was ticking, each passing hour taking with it his chances of success.
“I wish we could get this over with,” Anti grumbled, prying a handful of wires from the panel, halfheartedly plucking at the tangled mess for a second or two before attempting to connect some of them at the ends. His helmet lay on the floor, discarded in a fit of discomfort. “I can’t deal with this bullshit for much longer.”
The Host hovered by the admin table, tapping away at his tablet, its dull, automated voice droning the options into his helmet speaker. What to sabotage next? He’d probably go for lights, and draw the remaining crewmates toward electrical for another kill. “Do you want the imposters to kill us all?”
“Fuck no!” Anti exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning green. “I want to kill him so we can move the fuck on. No more waiting in suspense.”
The Host paused, one gloved finger hovering over the line of code he needed to excise in order to cut the lights. “What if there’s two imposters?”
“There isn’t.” Anti shoved the bundle of wires back into the panel and shoved it closed with a harsh clang that bounced off the carbon-steel walls. “We got Edward. He was a mess.” He chuckled, as if the condemnation and subsequent murder of the Host’s partner was funny to him. “He didn’t even bother to deny it! Basically confessed to killing Dark. He was an imposter for sure.”
The fluorescent lights above them flickered; their tinny whine filled the admin room. Then they went out with a series of sharp pops.
“Fuck!” Anti startled. His right eye glowed a vivid emerald as he spun toward the Host, snatching up his helmet. “We gotta-”
But the Host was no longer there, hovering by the admin table.
“Host?” Anti’s head snapped left. Right.
“It wasn’t the doctor who killed Dark.” The voice came from directly behind him. But before Anti could turn, there was a knife at his neck, digging into his jugular. As his heartbeat came fast, it slowly began to slice.
“It was me,” the Host said, flat, and Anti crumpled to the floor, blood seeping in a fast flow across the metal.
