My attempts at a short story part 1
Darkness, absolute and confining. The kind of darkness that makes you wonder if you’re still alive. Am I still alive?
Pain shoots up my leg like fire and settles in the base of my skull, it burns so fiercely that if I wasn’t dead, I sure as hell would wish that I was. Maybe I am dead, maybe this is what hell is… darkness and pain. If this is hell the Dark One needs to update what the fuck he’s doing, this feels like Heaven compared to what I just left.
Another blinding flash of pain, tears well in my eyes. My movement to wipe them away sends another shot of agony screeching up my arm. Not a good idea my brain screams in response, try the other one but don’t expect much. More pain, and if I was claustrophobic I’d be pissing myself. The darkness is pressing in on me like a drunken whore trying to make rent. And it’s starting to piss me off. Guess that means time to check where the fuck I am. I slowly move my arms to the left and right they don’t get far before a metal clang announces the end of my confines. Up over my head, clang, I kick my feet with the same resolve, clang. I follow with more furious kicking and slamming, by now the pain is but a numb buzz and thin sheen of sweat. A blade of light comes out of the darkness. I flinch as it hits my toes, blinded by the suddenness. My eyes adjust and I continue kicking and pushing. I swing out of the cramped file cabinet and proceed to fall flat on my face. Well, shit, I’m not dead I think and then I puke up anything I ever ate.
I don’t know how long I lay there, hours, minutes, days, whatever. I passed in and out of consciousness, staring up at those fluorescent lights. Always fluorescent lighting, I hate them almost as much as I hate… well; I just fucking hate them all right. It hurt to breath, blink, swallow. Retching was agony but at least I stopped after my body realized I hadn’t eaten a damn thing in days. That’s when I heard it, the buzz of pre-war rock and roll. The ancient sounds urged me to look around, look at what you asshole, your long since dead what do you know. Oh, maybe he meant the door; yeah I guess it is time to figure out how deep into it I am. One foot at a time, ok now stand up, atta kid, ok now time to shamble towards the door. I move like the ghouls do in the wastes, like a zombie but not quite dead, though wishing with every inch that I was. Gripping the knob after a few misses I proceed to swing open the door, but my newfound muscle control decides to falter and I slam the door open making a rather large rattling sound. That’s when I’m greeted with a “WHAT THE FUCK!!!!” Sounds like a girl screaming at seeing a rat or spider. That’s when I see my reflection, scars running up and down my chest drawing a pink symbol of some sort, black ink of tattoos of similar symbols run up and down my arms and legs. My skin has a white and black tinge to it; like I’m one giant bruise walking around like nothing was wrong. No wonder she screamed.
“What the fuck are you doing walking around?” she said.
“I’m sorry lady, I’ll go put on something and get out of here,” my voiced sounded like death warmed over a fire of boiling tar.
“N-n-n-no, your supposed to be d-d-d-dead!” she got that out as barely a squeak.
“Well, I’ll just go lie down and pretend again, just stop screaming and turn that fucking racket down. I’m surprised you haven’t had more complains with that shit.” I cough out “Miss” I add to try and not sound like a jackass of a dead guy.
“Wait!” she screams
“Quit yelling for fucks sake”
“Sorry” she murmurs
“Well, what do you want? Its cold and I’m not quite comfortable talking to you… wait a second. What do you mean I’m supposed to be dead?”
“Well this is the morgue.”
Wonderful, just wonderful... What am I doing in the morgue, why would anybody want me dead? I try and think back but I can’t remember a damn thing about myself before waking up. Yeah I remember this world is now a wasteland, that demons, mutants, and all other sorts of nasty evil things now prey on what’s left of humanity, that now most of the world is divided into warring nations all head by a family or something like family. She could see the strain on his face and decided to interrupt with a rather awkward giggle.
“What?” I said
“Here,” she tossed me a rather large pair of pants and a stained shirt after rummaging through a closet, “I don’t think I’ll be able to talk more if you don’t put something on, those scars are distracting.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what’s distracting you.” I said half heartedly and pulled on the clothes. The stunk of sweat, death, and junk food. “So, what the fuck am I doing here?”
“You where dead, dip-shit, hence the morgue,” she said as she swung her arms around trying to point out the building as if I hadn’t seen it.
“Well aren’t you a genius, I mean what the fuck was I doing dead and then not?”
“I was just going to ask you that, what’s your name anyways?”
I tried to remember, spent a good long time trying to remember just that small bit of who I am. Nothing, so I give her a shrug of my shoulders and say “No fucking clue, I can’t remember shit thanks for bringing it up.”
“Oh, well I’m Nina, I work here at nights. Gives me a quiet place to read pre-war books and whatever I can find that hasn’t been turned into ash and slag. I’m lucky I found this pre-war data drive a while back in the old ruins.”
“Where am I Nina?”
“Los Diablos Mortuary, Free Cities of the West though we’re just on the cusp of the boundary to the Demon Realms”
That tickles something in the back of my head, I had the feeling like I should remember something but I just ended up straining my mind trying to remember. “I know the map pretty well, so how did I get here?”
“Don’t know, let me find the file,” she ran to a nearby file cabinet, like the one I was just in but smaller, “You came in a body bag smelling of burnt flesh and dried blood. No vital signs, nothing of value on you, no identification.”
“Sounds like I was meant to be dead and forgotten; wish I knew why.”
“You definatley might have pissed off the wrong people, at least that’s what your scars say to me, you look like shit why don’t you go lie down and get some rest. There’s a couch in the lounge and some leftovers in the fridge, help yourself.”
The mention of food made my stomach revolt in anger but sitting down and getting my head screwed back on sounded like a good idea, so I nodded and walked away.
“Hold one a second, what’s that?” she said as she ran up and poked at something behind my ear just above my neck.
“What’s what?” I said as I slid my hand back and felt cold metal
“It looks like something a Slider would have, you know, hacking into systems and shit? I don’t know any Sliders but I’ve seen a few dead ones and they all had that.”
“Guess I’ll find out later. Look Nina, I’ve got a weird feeling about all this, so if anybody asks to see my body tell ‘em you cremated me or something like that. At least till I can figure out why the fuck I’m supposed to be dead and why I’m not.”
She gave me a look that screamed “No shit” and just walked away.
I sit down on what she called a couch, which is more of a thin layer of durafoam and metal. “This thing looks like it was in the war.” I shout and lie down trying to contemplate what the fuck was going on and why the fuck I’m scarred and tattooed to hell with these designs. I don’t get very comfortable, if that’s possible on this device of torture, before I feel a tingling on my arm and a scream from the next room.