Flint Walker's Story

Flint gasped awake, eyes flickering open to the dimly lit room. Open, but not seeing. He breathed in and out deeply a few times on autopilot, as his vision swam into focus. The first thing he noticed was the lack of light, and the strange ghostly gas in the air. Next was the smell, stale and damp with an undercurrent of something he didn't quite want to identify. After a split second of surveying his surroundings –and holy crap was he in a coffin?! - He had a bit of an interior freak out. Where was he? What time was it? What date was it? He resolved not to get up until he knew it was safe and darted his eyes about the room frantically as he took in quiet little gasps of musty air. There were several other coffins inside the room too, and he watched as two other people emerged from them.

Who were these people? Why were they here? Why was he here?

Flint was stifled under the weight of his own questions, and decided not to wait any longer. He had to find out what the hell was going on! He sat up stiffly, spotting the two women talking to each other tentatively. Maybe they know what’s happening? He used his arms to help his stiff body out of the coffin thing and stood, if a little shaky at first.

“Hey… um…” His voice came out a little dry and choked, as if not used in a long while, and he cleared his throat. “Where are we? Who are you?” Flint moved to take a step and staggered a little, gripping onto another casket for support. His legs felt like jelly. And they hurt. A lot. The confused man tried to calm himself and remember anything recent before this, and drew a blank. There was one thing he could remember though. His accident. His paralysing accident.

I should not be walking right now.

How am I walking?

He hoped these two had some sort of answer for him, but a part of his brain knew that they wouldn’t. They were probably in the same boat as he.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Cassie’s chest heaved once, twice, as she took her first breath after a long time. The air smelt like socks after they had been sitting in water for a long time - not quite pleasant. Her eyes snapped open, taking in an enclosed surface that she was lying in, although the lid had already opened.

Her memory felt fuzzy, and she couldn’t quite remember why she was in this place in the first place. One delicate hand reached up to feel her face, and make sure that this was actually reality, to feel something that was obviously not her face! It couldn’t be. Running a finger over the object again with a sort of thrill, Cassie felt something of the same type as dough, and as she pressed slightly harder, it left an imprint.

So what was this?

She turned her head to look, her bones feeling stiff, and didn’t see anything interesting - nothing that could be the thing that she was touching. Lifting her hand slightly higher, she saw the tips of her fingers, directly between her eyes.

But why couldn’t she feel anything?

Pressing down harder, she saw the skin on and around her nose start to change shape, leaving her with more of a button nose than the aquiline one that she had originally possessed - one of her most prized possessions. Choking down a scream of terror, her hands explored her face again - still with the dents that she had accidentally created. Was this really her? It couldn’t be! She sat up suddenly, before running both hands over her features with a sort of disbelief. Her ears were still the same shape, but the same feeling of touching jelly remained. So - could it really be her that had become…

Her mind stopped this line of thought, before she removed her searching hands from her face. It was a strange room - certainly, it didn’t look very nice. Covered in some sort of grey mist, it appeared like a scene from one of those movies where the heros died in the first three minutes. Wires lined the ground like the arteries to some demented heart.

Wait. Why was she still alive? At the very least, she remembered the burning pain and then nothing. Cassie had assumed that she died, but maybe not. If she died, it seemed as though she wasn’t a good person - this could only be hell.

But whatever. Hell was hell. There were three other people out there walking around, and a boy seemed to have trouble walking. Feeling her face’s appearance change again, she tried to smile - but felt it come out slightly awkwardly. Taking in a deep breath, and managing not to gag from the horrible smell, she tried to speak - listening with a blend of fascination and horror as it came out with a nasal-tone.

This was not her voice.

Her voice was high and pure - not this voice that seemed to fit those girls who whined almost constantly. “Do you want some help?” the voice said. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. After all, Cassie wasn’t able to offer quite that much - she was still sitting in her coffin - not wanting to try not her weak legs and try to move.

Flint frowned in puzzlement at his uncooperative legs, wondering how he could stand at all. He felt like Bambi on stilts on ice, awkward, clumsy and potentially disastrous. His grip on the casket tightened and he tried coaxing his feet to move.

Come on… it’s just like riding a bike. You’ll remember. He scoffed at his own thoughts. Yeah right.

He sighed and was ready for a second try when he actually noticed what he was holding onto and his eyes boggled at the sight of the unopened casket - with someone inside.

Just how many of these are there?

Flint’s thoughts were interrupted by the slightly nasal voice from somewhere in the shadowy room. He flinched, eyes darting about the area. Who was that? The wary man spotted her after a moment, sitting up from her own box. (This place must be a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare…) The woman was looking at him, and he felt embarrassed almost immediately after processing what she had said.

Do I really look so pathetic? He thought, scowling.

However, she didn’t seem to mean any offense; she actually seemed a little hesitant if anything.

“Sure…if you’re willing.” His pride almost made him refuse, but something told Flint he would need to take any help he could get in this place, pride be damned.

Careen carefully looked over her shoulder, another person had addressed her and the woman she was talking to. She's not going to answer me right now...maybe she doesn't want to give her name at a time like this. I don't blame her... She peered again at the young woman, Maybe she wants to be left alone.

After seeing the three people so far, Careen was able to safely conclude that nobody emerging from the pods...or coffins, were aiming to cause her any harm or grief. The one gentleman appeared to be having a difficult time walking, his legs probably needed some time to get working again. The third person she noticed had already kindly offered to help him, though she appeared to still be sitting in her former confines. To offer help so quickly....

A little altruism always helps. Careen smiled at the gentle notion then began to examine the room some more, it would be good to get a better look at this area. She could introduce herself later, there were certainly some more pressing issues. The notes said to move to the upper levels. So, where were they? Somewhere low.
The mist in the room was starting to disperse, so she was able to catch a somewhat better view. The ambient noise in the room had all but vanished...it was deathly quiet save for the breathing and the rustling of movement from the other experiments.
Careen felt her heart skip a beat. It was really quiet.

Her lip began to quiver and her hands began to shake just slightly. How long had it been since she last heard music? Or any kind of rhythm or melody...there was no natural syncopation of moving machinery, they didn't even hum or whir. Nothing.

Nervously, she began humming quietly to herself. Just focus. Examine the room. You're OK.

Jessica's eyes shot open as a heavy feeling was lifted from her chest. She felt as though a fog was slowly leaving her mind, leaving her free and clear. She stared up at the glass-like coffin around her in shock, not quite recovered. She slowly raised her hands straight into the air, testing to see if she could move. She found she could -not very fast- but she was motorized. She gasped slightly at the appearance of her skin. Tiny cracks splintered across her wrists and arm, giving the appearance she was breaking.

" Hua! Hnng... What?" She asked aloud, confused. She grunted slightly as she strained to pull herself from her laying position, quickly forgetting the condition of her skin. Her surroundings were more important. Her eyes widened visibly as she noticed there were other people in the room with her. She stayed silent as she rubbed her arm slightly, attempting to smooth the cracks in her skin. She skimmed the face's of the room's attendies. One was standing in a crooked position in the middle of the room, and a few others were standing, or sitting in the "coffins" they awoke from. Jessica pulled her legs up to her chest, peeking over her knees warily at the other people.

Flint was so irritated he could barely stand it. Irritated at the situation he was in, the strangers around him, and that disturbing aura he had felt in this room from the moment he had woken up. Something was not right here at all. It was as though he was being watched, like even the walls themselves were eyeing him. He was tense and paranoid and angry and he just wanted to go home.

And here I am, stood like a lemon doing absolutely nothing. Useless.

He felt himself getting more and more worked up until he thought he was just going to explode. The noises in the room became quiet and far away.

He didn’t realise he had been actually moving until he almost collided with someone. He was ecstatic for a moment, having finally been able to walk, even if it was induced by his anger. Then the person spoke, presumably to the whole group, and Flint was in a foul mood all over again.

Storage… Is that what this is?

Flint was suspicious immediately. This guy seemed like he knew a lot about this place; almost too much. He seemed perfectly comfortable with his surroundings, as if this was just a daily occurrence for him. And his eyes… they glowed. They actually glowed. How long had he been here?

How long had they been here, asleep in ‘storage’? None of it made sense and he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration at how little he could remember.

The man seemed to know what he was doing though, and if Flint wanted a way out then this was probably it. It was an easy decision to make to follow him… At least for now. It wouldn’t hurt to ask a couple of questions though.

“How can we trust you?” Flint glared sceptically at the man. “You could be one of those ‘nasties’ or whatever they are, just leading us into a trap.” He folded his arms, huffing out a breath of annoyance. “What reason could you possibly have to help us?”