Author, Chapter Three, Mini Series, Novel, Original, Science Fiction, Writing

Act One | Chapter Three | Episode Eleven: Rude Awakening

JOS was lost… somewhere. Though there was no real way to be sure of where. His head felt as though it’d been split in half, and some beeping sound kept getting louder and louder in the darkness. He then came to the realization he was being shaken by something, . Not just by the vibration from his waist, but a sincere rocking motion, and a voice that was impossible to discern through all the other senses he could make no sense of.

Where was NaN, the need to get back to the ship, Voiyn would murder them if they were late. Knowing NaN he could be anywhere.

No.

He should still be with JOS, but something was telling him that he wasn’t. This terrified feeling grew within him, grew like the violence of the shaking, and the beeping that rose to a siren. He opened his eyes to see a blur of lower extremities. Once his eyes focused on the spot where he remembered NaN was, except there was nothing, no trace at all. JOS could’ve sworn there had been restraints on him. Now he was only surrounded by a crowd, and free to move. The beeping persisted, causing his head to ache ever greater with each pulse.

His datacard!

JOS lurched up too quickly, he had to catch himself before he passed out. As the space around him stopped spinning, he could hear a creature asking, more yelling, “…ARE YOU OKAY!?” in a shrill tongue. He nodded, hoping to satisfy the being. He slid his right hand down to grab his datacard to turn the thing off.

Before shutting it down he remembered to look at the time. There were only ten circuits until he had to be back on Valeviyenellin. He examined the routes available on his card, he was still at the bottom of the central spiral, which he observed had returned to the open position. He sprang to his feet, again nearly collapsing, he bent his knees to catch himself, it didn’t stop his head from throbbing, but there was no time to examine any wound, let alone coddle it. JOS took off as fast as he could up the spiral in the direction of the ship. His body felt more labored than what he was used to. His sense of urgency drove him to fight the pain screaming from his frontal lobe. As he rounded the corner to the diameter arm, he noticed that his eyes were half open, and his vision was tinted red. In spite of this he continued down the arm to the Pit’s circumference. He ignored the disgusted, and offended looks of the passersby, as he rounded the final corner.

Finally on the circumferencial pathway he could see the hangar where Valeviyenellin was. JOS bolted at this marvelous sight, he had to get back, he had to tell someone. Bodily fluids were dripping everywhere, sweat, blood, snot, the parts that ran in his eyes stung, he was a complete and utter mess. Voiyn was waiting for them at the ships entrance, first with a look of anger, searching for the two, then their eyes met. He became confused,, which changed instantly into worry as he moved in JOS’s direction.

What Voiyn had seen was the boy he’d taken in, or some purple and red version of him, sprinting full speed towards him. The soft birthmarked face was broken and bloody, the sweat changing his fair skin into a shiny red. The sclera surrounding his eyes had even turned the color of his blood, and his olfactories were crushed flat. Then he realized the other one wasn’t there, this caused him to worry the most.

JOS could feel his legs getting numb but he had to tell Voiyn about the Seven Hounds Bounty woman, how she kidnapped NaN. As soon as he reached the great reptile he collapsed. Strong arms caught his weight. Despite all his wanting to say something, only fractions of syllables could escape his lips, the rest was winded gurgling breath. It took all of his concentration to even remain conscious at this point. Concern for his friend was the only thing keeping him from slipping back into that place again. Then his friend could be anywhere.

He tried to relax, now that he was safe again, and slow down his breathing. Being carried helped, as they crossed into the ships center he willed himself to say one broken sentence.

“Woman… Seven Hounds… NaN, taken,” the strain was finally too much. His goal had been reached and he slipped comfortably off into the dark of his mind. Floating weightless on a sturdy cloud.

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THE CARNAGE OF PALTOCK!

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