Been playing a new game called Endless Space on Steam, been reading some EVE online books, and been bored in general. So this random little thing's been bouncing around my head for a bit. Any who, here it is
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Chapter 1: Crushed.
It was happening again.
He felt the weight of all the rocks, felt the stone biting into his legs, he could picture the bone cracking and augmentations crumpling under the weight of the rocks which had fallen on top of him.
He kept his eyes closed. It'd be worse if he looked at the mess, right?
Now it seemed the mass had fallen onto his chest. He couldn't breath in more than shallow gasps. he could hear the echoing of his pained breath bouncing off the uncaring walls. the plip,plip,plip of the water from the ceiling mocking his attempts at pulling air into his lungs.
No need to look though, they say that only makes the pain worse...right?
Seemed his arm had gotten caught too, at least one of them. His left arm didn't seem to want to move more than an inch or so before sending spikes made of the finest white-hot pain into his mind. He moved his right arm, trying to pry away stones from his chest, with little luck. His fingers couldn't seem to get a grip on the wet stones. He tried not to think too hard what that wetness could be.
Maybe he should try to look in order to see what he was doing?
A peek couldn't hurt, right?
How bad could it be?
It was getting harder to breath, the pressure on his chest increasing as a rumbling drowned out all other noise. He thought he could hear voices, but he knew whoever was shouting was most probably dead. Generally you scream so others know your in trouble, that's the way they'd all been trained. He would have been screaming, but now it seemed all his air had gone for a trip around the hab. He seriously doubted he could get the next breath in.
He still refused to open his eyes.
The effort to open them would have just taken away the strength needed to try to get the next lungful of air in. It was a battle he was quickly losing. He didn't think he could last enough for the disaster teams to find him, much less dig him out. The last breath might as well been his last, the pressure slowly forcing out the last of his air against his will.
He'd had enough.
He put all his effort into opening his eyes. He would die a proper man and stare death in the face. He'd done what he could. His eyes resisted him though, and stayed stuck together until with a final superhuman effort, they cracked open at last.
He stared at the roof of his room, then to his legs covered in the sweat-drenched bedding of his bunk.
Just a nightmare.
Getting up to a sitting position, he rubbed his eyes as he came down from his nightmare. He took a deep breath, listened to the water drip from the faucet in the bathroom across the room, the gentle murmuring of the people outside his room, felt the wet sheets as they rubbed against his fingers.After a moment he did what the shrink had told him to do when the nightmares started again.
I'm alive. he thought, start easy, work it up. I am a Male Human. My eyes are brown. I am alive. I survived that hellhole. I was not under those rocks. Now for the harder bits. That was four years ago. I was infected, but survived.Not that anyone else in his crew survived though. I am on a military ship headed to the capitol.
Now for the mandatory lie, in order to make himself sure he was saying the truth to himself, or so he'd been told.
I am safe.
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Chapter 1: Crushed.
It was happening again.
He felt the weight of all the rocks, felt the stone biting into his legs, he could picture the bone cracking and augmentations crumpling under the weight of the rocks which had fallen on top of him.
He kept his eyes closed. It'd be worse if he looked at the mess, right?
Now it seemed the mass had fallen onto his chest. He couldn't breath in more than shallow gasps. he could hear the echoing of his pained breath bouncing off the uncaring walls. the plip,plip,plip of the water from the ceiling mocking his attempts at pulling air into his lungs.
No need to look though, they say that only makes the pain worse...right?
Seemed his arm had gotten caught too, at least one of them. His left arm didn't seem to want to move more than an inch or so before sending spikes made of the finest white-hot pain into his mind. He moved his right arm, trying to pry away stones from his chest, with little luck. His fingers couldn't seem to get a grip on the wet stones. He tried not to think too hard what that wetness could be.
Maybe he should try to look in order to see what he was doing?
A peek couldn't hurt, right?
How bad could it be?
It was getting harder to breath, the pressure on his chest increasing as a rumbling drowned out all other noise. He thought he could hear voices, but he knew whoever was shouting was most probably dead. Generally you scream so others know your in trouble, that's the way they'd all been trained. He would have been screaming, but now it seemed all his air had gone for a trip around the hab. He seriously doubted he could get the next breath in.
He still refused to open his eyes.
The effort to open them would have just taken away the strength needed to try to get the next lungful of air in. It was a battle he was quickly losing. He didn't think he could last enough for the disaster teams to find him, much less dig him out. The last breath might as well been his last, the pressure slowly forcing out the last of his air against his will.
He'd had enough.
He put all his effort into opening his eyes. He would die a proper man and stare death in the face. He'd done what he could. His eyes resisted him though, and stayed stuck together until with a final superhuman effort, they cracked open at last.
He stared at the roof of his room, then to his legs covered in the sweat-drenched bedding of his bunk.
Just a nightmare.
Getting up to a sitting position, he rubbed his eyes as he came down from his nightmare. He took a deep breath, listened to the water drip from the faucet in the bathroom across the room, the gentle murmuring of the people outside his room, felt the wet sheets as they rubbed against his fingers.After a moment he did what the shrink had told him to do when the nightmares started again.
I'm alive. he thought, start easy, work it up. I am a Male Human. My eyes are brown. I am alive. I survived that hellhole. I was not under those rocks. Now for the harder bits. That was four years ago. I was infected, but survived.Not that anyone else in his crew survived though. I am on a military ship headed to the capitol.
Now for the mandatory lie, in order to make himself sure he was saying the truth to himself, or so he'd been told.
I am safe.
Last edited by Srgt. Master on Wed Jun 20, 2012 2:41 am; edited 3 times in total