Valen
Well-Known Member
The sound of a metallic hiss split the darkness. A flash of light, briefly illuminating the gloom.
For a brief second.
He falls forward, his vision punctuated by the explosion of light. The sudden explosion left flickers of bright light hovering at the edges of his sight. Pain suddenly lances up and down his body as he hits something solid. The breath forcibly leaves his lungs, exhaled sharply out of his body. Jumping white lights burst across the thick darkness, assaulting his senses. A sharp gasp can be heard, piercing the silence all about.
The first sensation he feels is nausea. His head spins. And although he cannot see through the thick veil of inky blackness that permeates the area, he stands sharply.
Too sharply.
The nausea rises inside of him. Turning, he falls to the side, feeling something concrete as it strikes him head on. Gasping, the figure turns his head, and he vomits.....emptying the contents of his stomach over the cold, metallic floor that echoes sharply from the sound of his boots clacking on them. Falling to one knee, the man gives a sharp, juddering sigh. To his side, a thin sliver of light banishes the gloom.....if only temporarily. Standing, slower this time, he takes one uncertain step after another. Trembling hand reaches out, touching something smooth, metallic and apparently cylindrical.
His face creases in confusion as he runs his fingers over the cold contours of the large, cylindrical object in front of him. A slight indentation seems to radiate yellow light. Touching the indentation, another loud hiss can be heard as a rectangular section of the cylinder slides to one side, spilling more yellow light into the dark chamber in which he stands. Inside, the cylindrical object is empty, yet sickly yellow light illuminates its interior.
A pod. My pod.
It is at that point that he becomes aware of something wet and sticky coating him. Running his fingers up and down his body, the man feels wet cloth....coated with something wet and sticky to touch. Grimacing, he brings his hand up and down in a sharp motion, dislodging some of the sticky stuff. Looking around him, the man sees a small, round room. The floor is comprised of metal bars.....grates of some sort. The metal walls are smooth and featureless. The bare room is featureless, apart from the metal door in front of him.....and three other cylindrical objects the same size of the one that he came out of. The doors on these one remain closed.
Inside his mind, the man tries to think back....think of where he is.....who he is. But it is all blank. There is nothing inside of his head or his memories, save for deep, dark holes, obscuring all he is and everything that he is once was. His past, his location.....everything is lost to him. The man brings his hand up, touching his face. Moving his fingers up, he feels something black and metal above his eyes. Running them to the side, the object above his eyes....whatever it is....disappears inside his skin, as if it has been grafted on.
"Who am I? Where am I?"
His voice is hoarse and gravelly. Then the sound of another metallic hiss distracts his thoughts from the dark places they were going. Turning sharply, he sees the compartment door of one of the other cylinders begin to open.....
For a brief second.
He falls forward, his vision punctuated by the explosion of light. The sudden explosion left flickers of bright light hovering at the edges of his sight. Pain suddenly lances up and down his body as he hits something solid. The breath forcibly leaves his lungs, exhaled sharply out of his body. Jumping white lights burst across the thick darkness, assaulting his senses. A sharp gasp can be heard, piercing the silence all about.
The first sensation he feels is nausea. His head spins. And although he cannot see through the thick veil of inky blackness that permeates the area, he stands sharply.
Too sharply.
The nausea rises inside of him. Turning, he falls to the side, feeling something concrete as it strikes him head on. Gasping, the figure turns his head, and he vomits.....emptying the contents of his stomach over the cold, metallic floor that echoes sharply from the sound of his boots clacking on them. Falling to one knee, the man gives a sharp, juddering sigh. To his side, a thin sliver of light banishes the gloom.....if only temporarily. Standing, slower this time, he takes one uncertain step after another. Trembling hand reaches out, touching something smooth, metallic and apparently cylindrical.
His face creases in confusion as he runs his fingers over the cold contours of the large, cylindrical object in front of him. A slight indentation seems to radiate yellow light. Touching the indentation, another loud hiss can be heard as a rectangular section of the cylinder slides to one side, spilling more yellow light into the dark chamber in which he stands. Inside, the cylindrical object is empty, yet sickly yellow light illuminates its interior.
A pod. My pod.
It is at that point that he becomes aware of something wet and sticky coating him. Running his fingers up and down his body, the man feels wet cloth....coated with something wet and sticky to touch. Grimacing, he brings his hand up and down in a sharp motion, dislodging some of the sticky stuff. Looking around him, the man sees a small, round room. The floor is comprised of metal bars.....grates of some sort. The metal walls are smooth and featureless. The bare room is featureless, apart from the metal door in front of him.....and three other cylindrical objects the same size of the one that he came out of. The doors on these one remain closed.
Inside his mind, the man tries to think back....think of where he is.....who he is. But it is all blank. There is nothing inside of his head or his memories, save for deep, dark holes, obscuring all he is and everything that he is once was. His past, his location.....everything is lost to him. The man brings his hand up, touching his face. Moving his fingers up, he feels something black and metal above his eyes. Running them to the side, the object above his eyes....whatever it is....disappears inside his skin, as if it has been grafted on.
"Who am I? Where am I?"
His voice is hoarse and gravelly. Then the sound of another metallic hiss distracts his thoughts from the dark places they were going. Turning sharply, he sees the compartment door of one of the other cylinders begin to open.....
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