Snippet #1606539

One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Silence.

That was all the geologist's mind had registered during the black out. His body felt nothing, like his senses were shut down from his nerve system. Slowly the feeling was seeping back into his body: he was nauseous. John didn't know how much time had passed, he only knew he wasn't dead. He was in too much pain to be dead. It felt as if a steam waltz had run him over; every inch of his body was screaming with sensation. His muscles felt like jelly, their strength depleted to withstand the roaring maelstrom of G-force they had to endure. He wanted to puke, but his organs refused to cooperate.

“Dnk.. Dnk..”

His head was throbbing, synchronous to the pulse of his heart. Slowly his mind regained activity. There appeared to be something pressing against his right cheek. As a matter of fact, the unpleasant sensation of something pushing spread to his right hip and arm. John sniffed. A sharp scent of smoke entered his nose. He coughed as he tasted the thick smoke on his lips, it caused him to open his eyes: A thick fog of smoke fell to the right where a white surface, filled with buttons and switches filled his horizon, distorted by a branching crack in his visor. It took a while before John realized what was going on; the ship had tilted on it's right side, the gravity must have ripped his seat from the floor and tossed it across the floor.

A burning sensation burst through his right hip. A sharp object had pierced his spacesuit. A deep red stain spread around the edges, dripping slowly on the 'floor'. John tried to look around, but he could only observe the corner of the ship. - The crew! - The thought jump started his mind like sniffing salt. He wondered what had happened to them. He needed to focus, he needed to listen! He shook his head and roared loudly. This seemed to work. A high pitch tone rustled in his head and with a crackling sound his hearing came back.

“Beeeeeeep...po... He.. ..eey!”

The noise was overwhelming. Several monitors were beeping in alarm. The sound of fire, crackling on the background, was accompanied by the hissing of a broken oxygen tank. Outside, the engines were still roaring their final breath. A deep base sounded as a big metal plate bend under the planet's gravity, tearing slowly with a lot of noise. It made it difficult to single out any signs of life. John inhaled a deep breath to shout at the top of his lungs:

“Is there anyone alive!”

Any sign of live would be enough to boost his morale. The geologist struggled to undo the cusps that held him in place. But he couldn't reach it. Not without moving his right hip, which was still pinned down to the floor. The situation didn't look very bright. He felt this energy depleting with every drop that spilled along his hip. The stupid space helmet prevented him from seeing anything in the cockpit. He decided to get angry, to spark his survivors instinct.

“Help! I'm stuck, dammit!”