Kazanna
That Thorn In Your Side
Narrative Post:
As you wake up inside your cryogenics tube, the first thing you hear is a whirring sound, loud, large, like a turbine the size of a house spinning up to pull your head right off your shoulders. Your eyes will flicker open, and you'll try to look out of the tube, the glass view-port no more then two feet wide by two feet tall with three inch thick glass separates you from the outside world filled with darkness, but your still blind from the cry-sleep, power flickers on your tube for a moment, before the emergency protocols jettison you from it like a bullet out of a gun, and on your hands and knees you come, into this old ravaged world, with new sights and smells for it's former master race to experience. Everything they told you, turns out are unfulfilled promises, and the world as you knew it, is gone. You hear noises on either side of you, is it others waking up as you did, or is something else stalking the long hallways of cryo tubes?
Malcom woke up to this, his chest heaving as he struggled to draw breath, his eyes just barely beginning to regain focus, memories a blur. With a grunt, feels it coming, and scrambles forward his stomach heaving the cry-tubes amino nutrients out of his system. He coughs and another wave of the sick washes out of him before his stomach finally settles. Malcom glances around, his eyes still blurry, but his vision mostly returned, he takes a moment to gather himself, standing up he finds his memories after a moment, and realizes how very wrong everything is.
Several of the cryo-tubes around him are already open, and empty, another, it's front shielding broken in, a skeleton decayed nearly to dust in it, He frowns and moves closer to inspect it, savage claw marks across it's front, a thousand thoughts shoot through his head before his training kicks in, and he calms down. His first priority was to find out the date, and get a weapon in his hands. Second, locate authority, and report for duty, Third, Follow orders. If Priority two was impossible, Survival would be the next necessity. Malcom went to the locker next to his cryo-tube and tapped in the code on the front face plate. The lock was manual, but the seal was hermetic, and it opened with a snap and a hiss. He pulled the hatch open and reached inside, finding clothes. He sighed and paused for a moment before the turbine noise came on again. His eyes went up instinctively and he waited for a moment. Why was no one along to retrieve him...
He reached into the locker and pulled out his jeans the shirt he'd stowed away, and his old leather jacket with a smile, then pulled them on over the Cryo-Tech Jump Suit, the skintight thing had been uncomfortable at first, but now he wasn't sure he wanted to take the thin garment off, cold as it was. He pulled his boots out, and slid them on, then glanced inside again. His rifle was still there, was his sidearm, two full clips for each and a gunny sack to carry them. His CO had insisted on the sack, not telling him what was inside and ordering him not to open it until he woke up. Malcom grabbed the guns, slid the sidearm into his waistband at his back and put the rifles strap over his shoulder, unsure as to what to expect in the dark lab. He grabbed the sack, and dropped it over his other shoulder, taking a few steps in the direction he thought might be the central command.
As Malcom stepped away from his tube, another Whirring Turbine noise sounded, and sounds issued forth from either end of the hall, twenty minutes had passed since he had woken up, twenty minutes was how long it took each tube to get enough power from the central computer to activate, the turbines spun every ten minutes, now, in the dark, more noise, more hissing of opening tubes, but something else... Something beyond the confines of the dark hallway of casket like cryogenic tubes... something large, and hungry lurked beyond, waiting for it's prey, as it had for years.
As you wake up inside your cryogenics tube, the first thing you hear is a whirring sound, loud, large, like a turbine the size of a house spinning up to pull your head right off your shoulders. Your eyes will flicker open, and you'll try to look out of the tube, the glass view-port no more then two feet wide by two feet tall with three inch thick glass separates you from the outside world filled with darkness, but your still blind from the cry-sleep, power flickers on your tube for a moment, before the emergency protocols jettison you from it like a bullet out of a gun, and on your hands and knees you come, into this old ravaged world, with new sights and smells for it's former master race to experience. Everything they told you, turns out are unfulfilled promises, and the world as you knew it, is gone. You hear noises on either side of you, is it others waking up as you did, or is something else stalking the long hallways of cryo tubes?
Malcom woke up to this, his chest heaving as he struggled to draw breath, his eyes just barely beginning to regain focus, memories a blur. With a grunt, feels it coming, and scrambles forward his stomach heaving the cry-tubes amino nutrients out of his system. He coughs and another wave of the sick washes out of him before his stomach finally settles. Malcom glances around, his eyes still blurry, but his vision mostly returned, he takes a moment to gather himself, standing up he finds his memories after a moment, and realizes how very wrong everything is.
Several of the cryo-tubes around him are already open, and empty, another, it's front shielding broken in, a skeleton decayed nearly to dust in it, He frowns and moves closer to inspect it, savage claw marks across it's front, a thousand thoughts shoot through his head before his training kicks in, and he calms down. His first priority was to find out the date, and get a weapon in his hands. Second, locate authority, and report for duty, Third, Follow orders. If Priority two was impossible, Survival would be the next necessity. Malcom went to the locker next to his cryo-tube and tapped in the code on the front face plate. The lock was manual, but the seal was hermetic, and it opened with a snap and a hiss. He pulled the hatch open and reached inside, finding clothes. He sighed and paused for a moment before the turbine noise came on again. His eyes went up instinctively and he waited for a moment. Why was no one along to retrieve him...
He reached into the locker and pulled out his jeans the shirt he'd stowed away, and his old leather jacket with a smile, then pulled them on over the Cryo-Tech Jump Suit, the skintight thing had been uncomfortable at first, but now he wasn't sure he wanted to take the thin garment off, cold as it was. He pulled his boots out, and slid them on, then glanced inside again. His rifle was still there, was his sidearm, two full clips for each and a gunny sack to carry them. His CO had insisted on the sack, not telling him what was inside and ordering him not to open it until he woke up. Malcom grabbed the guns, slid the sidearm into his waistband at his back and put the rifles strap over his shoulder, unsure as to what to expect in the dark lab. He grabbed the sack, and dropped it over his other shoulder, taking a few steps in the direction he thought might be the central command.
As Malcom stepped away from his tube, another Whirring Turbine noise sounded, and sounds issued forth from either end of the hall, twenty minutes had passed since he had woken up, twenty minutes was how long it took each tube to get enough power from the central computer to activate, the turbines spun every ten minutes, now, in the dark, more noise, more hissing of opening tubes, but something else... Something beyond the confines of the dark hallway of casket like cryogenic tubes... something large, and hungry lurked beyond, waiting for it's prey, as it had for years.
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