The memory glass in the windows showed a story on alien window, rain seeming to hit the glass while lightning arced over an unfamiliar city. The glass misted for a moment, then changed to a view of a pebbly beach, smooth purple stones leading out to a quiet sea. No image stayed for more than a few moments – the stimulation couldn’t hurt, and it kept the room from being static and dead and quiet. Curt checked the time on his phone again, and looked down at the hospital bed. Nine hours again, nine hours of being somewhere they couldn’t reach. She wasn’t dead, she wasn’t hurt, but she wouldn’t wake up. Continue reading “76 – Accomplished and Tasked”
A child screamed.
Ryan swore as he tripped over the threshold to the pastel-painted nursery. A silenced shot passed by his head, missing him by inches. Some part of him made a note of it, more evidence to clear away, more collateral damage to control – the rest of him was focussed on the crying child.
The little girl, with a gun held uncomfortably close to her head.
Not like this-
Stef screamed as her dungeon finished falling apart – when the last piece disappeared from beneath her feet, she fell into the darkness with it.
Not like this-
It felt like falling, but there was no wind ripping against her face. No change in pressure making her ears pop. Nothing except the sensation of falling, and the utter blackness crushing against her. Continue reading “36 – The Grand Adventure”
The child’s scream continued.
Ryan narrowed his eyes and kept his gun trained on his target and by extension, the soldier’s human shield: a screaming toddler. He tried to block out the child’s screams. Although completely warranted on her part, they did nothing but escalate the situation.
Hostages always made a dangerous situation even worse.
The Solstice fought to get his breath back, his grip tightening on the little girl. He took a moment to scan the child. It was completely human, so that laid one of his fears to rest, and gave credence to the theory that the Solstice had only taken this course of action out of desperation. It hadn’t been planned. It wasn’t an attack. It was simply a botched escape attempt. Continue reading “01 – Broken Doll”