Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Jul 31, 2011 22:56:41 GMT -5
Screams echoed back and forth in the dark metallic chamber. His head shook violently in it's exertion, back and forth, left, right. Wrapped his hands around his ears, shut out his own voice. Breathing, ragged, gasping, then normal. His legs swung stupidly, off the ground. he felt his weight against his chest and shoulders. He was suspended from the wall. Cold metal arms with gentle rubbery fingertips held him off the ground and against the wall, in case of any violent shift in the ship, his legs wouldn't be broken.
The man nodded his blonde head and shut his light eyes against what might come. With his palm he blindly pressed a button near his him and with a shutter, the metal box cracked open, front plexiglass swinging up from the floor, and he was dropped from the wall where he was tethered.
Shivering, he worked himself up onto his feet, and dropped painfully back onto his knees. Naked and weak, there was a bench against the other wall in the dark, corrugated room, and the man made his slow way for it.
Chill around his neck. A barely weighted swinging at his chest. Vision was weak, but his hands found the necklace. Two dogtags, one key. He read the stamped metal.
Brendt Jason K
MEC03510365
T24
AB
P
His name is Jason. Jason Kenneth Brendt. Kenneth, for his father.
He is Marine Engineer Corps number zero-three-five-one-zero-three-six-five.
His last tetanus shots were in '24.
His blood type is AB.
He is Protestant.
He knows nothing more.
Jason turned the key over. It was printed "18". The wall was lined with lockers he now saw, eyes adjusting from sleep, and locker 18 had a padlock on it. His weak wrist turned the key, the block of metal leapt open, and the steel door that Jason now saw matched the walls, the floors, and the ceiling, gave way to a bundle of clothing. Inside the wall was a shaving kit, a mirror, and a wrinkled picture of a beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair and a pointed, pale face. On top of the clothes was a folded yellow paper.
THE EFFECTS OF CRYOGENISIS ON THE INDIVIDUAL
Cryogenisis, or "hypersleep" as it is commonly called, is a medical procedure to induce a medical coma, freezing all vital organs, so that the individual may travel long distances without physical harm or wasting.
When first woken up from the effects of "hypersleep," the individual may feel weak or lethargic. The individual will also experience dulled senses and a loss of memory.
All side effects of cryogenisis are temporary and should subside within 24 hours.
Jason sat down again, willing his legs to remember what their job was. His shoulders itched. He scratched. Elastic flakes of skin came up with his nails, peeling away.
No, not skin. Gel. They used gel to stabilize the body. This is the dried gel. Not skin.
He peeled away the rest of the gel he could, and donned the clothes in his locker. A tank top, underwear, an ill-fitting piece that resembled a wetsuit, and then his flight clothes, a somewhat looser, dark-colored coverall. His serial number was printed in the inside of his forearm.
Jason checked the pockets, but they were empty. A toolbox was lurking behind his clothes bundle. He opened it and found nothing out of the ordinary. His dad had all the same stuff in his toolbox.
The mirror reflected his face and he marveled at it. His beard had grown longer than he ever kept it, he thought. Strange.
He shaved, cleaned up his hair, picked up his toolbox, and moved towards the bridge to report for duty.
Where, exactly, was the bridge? Jason moved through doors, hoping muscle memory propelled his body where it needed to go, in place of his mind. His dragging feet scraped loudly against the steel catwalks. The corridor he was traveling was barely dark enough to see,, and the tubes of light lining the walkway tended to pulse and shriek with sparks, playing tricks on his dazed eyes.
Jason came to a T-junction in the walk. Left, or right. Left, he saw nothing, a stretch of what looked like the same hallway he just traversed. Right, more of the same. He saw a glimmer that might have been light reflecting off a wall.
The walls shook and he toppled to the ground, covering his head. The lights surged to a blinding radiance, and the ship itself sounded like it was being rended apart. Jason counted to 5, and it was gone. The hallway was dark, but the lights slowly grew back to what he assumed was normal. Back to the problem at hand, right was a wall, and left held nothing. He pulled forward and took the left path. A silhouette was ahead of him, still, but a shadow nonetheless. "Hey!" Jason shouted, approaching the shadow-man. As Jason stepped into the light, he could see the shadow man. Dark hair, balding, large eyes, maybe a little pudgy. His head was crooked hard onto his left shoulder and a steel cable ran between the ceiling and his neck. Gagging back the initial illness and the screams that followed, He reached for the hanged man's dogtags, but there were none. Perhaps someone stumbled this way before him. Does that mean he's headed in the right direction?
Jason took note of the man's sleeve. MLC74408641. He was in Logistics.
A sharp blow met the back of his head. As he was falling, another blow to his lower back. He clattered down and hit the ground like a side of beef. A leg wrapped around his arms. His legs were immobilized. Something cold and sharp was pressed against his throat. Jason's attempt to plead was cut off, she wrenched his head up by a fistful of his hair and pressed the knife harder. She looked down the hallway, and Jason instinctively followed her eyes down to the end of the hallway that was walled.
There was that glint of light, the spark of blue light that told him it was walled. Before he could breathe, she put the knife down and fled, silently, but swift.
Jason watched the blue spark. It didn't go away. In fact, it almost seemed to get larger. Something was behind it.
If wailed. It snarled. Then more. Five wailing, retching bodies were roaring towards him. He got to his feet and ran, not knowing what they were but ran understanding whatever it was, whatever they were, were evil. He ran until his legs pumped battery acid. he ran until he could no longer run, then ran some more. He couldn't hear the snarling any longer, but continued to run. The blue light was gone, but adrenaline kept him moving forward, choosing randomly at intersections. He found a door, lit in orange from the inside. Red paint on the outside said "Bridge" in bold lettering. It hissed apart, opening like an elevator door, and Jason squeezed in just as soon as he could fit, and locked it behind him.
The man nodded his blonde head and shut his light eyes against what might come. With his palm he blindly pressed a button near his him and with a shutter, the metal box cracked open, front plexiglass swinging up from the floor, and he was dropped from the wall where he was tethered.
Shivering, he worked himself up onto his feet, and dropped painfully back onto his knees. Naked and weak, there was a bench against the other wall in the dark, corrugated room, and the man made his slow way for it.
Chill around his neck. A barely weighted swinging at his chest. Vision was weak, but his hands found the necklace. Two dogtags, one key. He read the stamped metal.
Brendt Jason K
MEC03510365
T24
AB
P
His name is Jason. Jason Kenneth Brendt. Kenneth, for his father.
He is Marine Engineer Corps number zero-three-five-one-zero-three-six-five.
His last tetanus shots were in '24.
His blood type is AB.
He is Protestant.
He knows nothing more.
Jason turned the key over. It was printed "18". The wall was lined with lockers he now saw, eyes adjusting from sleep, and locker 18 had a padlock on it. His weak wrist turned the key, the block of metal leapt open, and the steel door that Jason now saw matched the walls, the floors, and the ceiling, gave way to a bundle of clothing. Inside the wall was a shaving kit, a mirror, and a wrinkled picture of a beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair and a pointed, pale face. On top of the clothes was a folded yellow paper.
THE EFFECTS OF CRYOGENISIS ON THE INDIVIDUAL
Cryogenisis, or "hypersleep" as it is commonly called, is a medical procedure to induce a medical coma, freezing all vital organs, so that the individual may travel long distances without physical harm or wasting.
When first woken up from the effects of "hypersleep," the individual may feel weak or lethargic. The individual will also experience dulled senses and a loss of memory.
All side effects of cryogenisis are temporary and should subside within 24 hours.
Jason sat down again, willing his legs to remember what their job was. His shoulders itched. He scratched. Elastic flakes of skin came up with his nails, peeling away.
No, not skin. Gel. They used gel to stabilize the body. This is the dried gel. Not skin.
He peeled away the rest of the gel he could, and donned the clothes in his locker. A tank top, underwear, an ill-fitting piece that resembled a wetsuit, and then his flight clothes, a somewhat looser, dark-colored coverall. His serial number was printed in the inside of his forearm.
Jason checked the pockets, but they were empty. A toolbox was lurking behind his clothes bundle. He opened it and found nothing out of the ordinary. His dad had all the same stuff in his toolbox.
The mirror reflected his face and he marveled at it. His beard had grown longer than he ever kept it, he thought. Strange.
He shaved, cleaned up his hair, picked up his toolbox, and moved towards the bridge to report for duty.
Where, exactly, was the bridge? Jason moved through doors, hoping muscle memory propelled his body where it needed to go, in place of his mind. His dragging feet scraped loudly against the steel catwalks. The corridor he was traveling was barely dark enough to see,, and the tubes of light lining the walkway tended to pulse and shriek with sparks, playing tricks on his dazed eyes.
Jason came to a T-junction in the walk. Left, or right. Left, he saw nothing, a stretch of what looked like the same hallway he just traversed. Right, more of the same. He saw a glimmer that might have been light reflecting off a wall.
The walls shook and he toppled to the ground, covering his head. The lights surged to a blinding radiance, and the ship itself sounded like it was being rended apart. Jason counted to 5, and it was gone. The hallway was dark, but the lights slowly grew back to what he assumed was normal. Back to the problem at hand, right was a wall, and left held nothing. He pulled forward and took the left path. A silhouette was ahead of him, still, but a shadow nonetheless. "Hey!" Jason shouted, approaching the shadow-man. As Jason stepped into the light, he could see the shadow man. Dark hair, balding, large eyes, maybe a little pudgy. His head was crooked hard onto his left shoulder and a steel cable ran between the ceiling and his neck. Gagging back the initial illness and the screams that followed, He reached for the hanged man's dogtags, but there were none. Perhaps someone stumbled this way before him. Does that mean he's headed in the right direction?
Jason took note of the man's sleeve. MLC74408641. He was in Logistics.
A sharp blow met the back of his head. As he was falling, another blow to his lower back. He clattered down and hit the ground like a side of beef. A leg wrapped around his arms. His legs were immobilized. Something cold and sharp was pressed against his throat. Jason's attempt to plead was cut off, she wrenched his head up by a fistful of his hair and pressed the knife harder. She looked down the hallway, and Jason instinctively followed her eyes down to the end of the hallway that was walled.
There was that glint of light, the spark of blue light that told him it was walled. Before he could breathe, she put the knife down and fled, silently, but swift.
Jason watched the blue spark. It didn't go away. In fact, it almost seemed to get larger. Something was behind it.
If wailed. It snarled. Then more. Five wailing, retching bodies were roaring towards him. He got to his feet and ran, not knowing what they were but ran understanding whatever it was, whatever they were, were evil. He ran until his legs pumped battery acid. he ran until he could no longer run, then ran some more. He couldn't hear the snarling any longer, but continued to run. The blue light was gone, but adrenaline kept him moving forward, choosing randomly at intersections. He found a door, lit in orange from the inside. Red paint on the outside said "Bridge" in bold lettering. It hissed apart, opening like an elevator door, and Jason squeezed in just as soon as he could fit, and locked it behind him.