literature

d a y - u n k n o w n : s t a r v a t i o n

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Literature Text

You're not really paranoid if they really all are out to get you.

Least, that's what my mother used to say.

I missed her, when it happened. But there's no time for emotion when you need to survive.

All I know at the moment is that it's night. I don't know where I am, what day it is, or what I need to do next.

Wait, what do I have left? I stare down, opening the package of what meagre belongings I possess. A small silver chain. Some scraps of food, the last food that I have (god, I'm freakin' starving right now. Can barely concentrate right now). A few clips of ammo. And finally, a folder, full of some kind of codes. I don't know. All I really know is that I have to protect them.

And that I have to get out of this place, and fast. I drop the bag on the ground and unholster my pistol, smearing a tiny bit of blood on the holster as I do so. Remove the clip, set the new one in and shit what's that noise SHIT-

I roll to the side, just as a truck smashes through the wall just by where I was a second time. A shard of metal flies out of the crash and imbeds itself into the side of my right arm – thankfully robotic, but there's no time to tend to it.

I stare back at the crash. The package is intact – all that matters for now. Move. You can do this. You're still alive, aren't you?

Whoever's after this package, they just upped the ante.

I'll have to do the same if I want to survive.

My peripheral vision picks up some flashing lights heading for the house – cops? Ambulances? It doesn't matter, there's not enough time to pay attention to them now anyway. Spotting a nearby van parked and empty,  I flip one of my few gadgets remaining – a small container of acid - out of my pocket and attach it to where the van lock should be.
The stench of the acid wafts through the air, and the door flips open. I walk inside carefully, watching for any stray drops of it left remaining – one drop would easily be enough to melt through skin.

Something shifts behind me, and I spin around. My foot catches on a stray piece of metal, and I fall to the floor, leg pulsing. Oh for god's sake… I get up slowly, and walk towards the source of the sound. Shit, my vision's getting blurry….

One glance down. Just a rat. Why the hell was I so paranoid? I guess I had a good reason… Step. Breathe. Step again. C'mon… My gaze turns to my hand, and I immediately regret it. Blue liquid seeps slowly down my arm and onto my clothes. The electronics spaz suddenly, smashing my hand into the wall before shorting out completely.

Great, now I'm a cripple.

It takes me about five seconds to make it over to the wheel of the van. Thankfully, it doesn't take both arms to drive a vehicle. I'm honestly tempted to just floor it as fast as I can, but one – that'll make me conspicuous, and two – vans don't exactly move fas-

I feel something move past my ear, and reflexively I draw my pistol and jerk to the right, before stopping. If that was a bullet, I would have heard it.

I need to calm down. Professionals like myself don't jump at shadows this easily-

Something small and sharp stabs into my neck silently. I attempt to look down, but my body freezes. The last thing I feel before unconsciousness takes me is my body hitting the floor.

-------------------

tshhhhhh- message received. please answer commlink. message from – 'tenera watark', latitude and longitude unknown. repeating command. message received. please answer commlink.

….Oh god. What the hell happened? Goddamnit… I feel like I'm going to faint. Get up…

It's like I can only move in slow motion…. Left foot, right foot…

I pick up the headset transmitting the message and position the speaker and visor over my ear and eye, respectively. The screen flickers to life – bits and pieces of it are damaged, but otherwise it's operating okay.

"Tysing? Are you okay?"

I nod, before remembering that she can't see me. "Yeah… I was hit by a tranq, I think."

"Yeah, you were." There's some static, but not enough to distort the message. "But there was one of our crews nearby. They helped you out. Your target, where you need to get those documents, it's less than half a kilometre away. Get going, I think someone's still after you. Shutting commlink."
The area goes quiet, and I take this time to check my surrounds - some kind of black van, with a few bloodstains on the wall. Not exactly homely. I get out to see the sun rising – I must have been unconscious all night.
The limp from earlier all but gone (though the pain in my stomach still lingers), I push open the door and scan the surrounds once again – some kind of grassy field. A hill looms in the distance. There. I start walking slowly.
BANG.
Again? Really? I quicken my pace, going from a walk to a jog to a full speed sprint. Another shot sounds in the distance, and I spot a bullet embed itself into the ground just by me. Far too close... Just a little bit further…. My vision begins going blurry again, but I manage to get to the hill. A flat rock – one that certainly doesn't fit with the grassy exterior of the hill – is just at head height, and I place my hand on it. A few laser scans later, and one side of the hill moves aside to reveal a small area surrounded by computers, with some sort of giant cylindrical tube in the middle. The door begins shutting, but-

Oh god.

I look down to see that two bullets have just hit my leg. Blood seeps out, and my vision continues to blur. G-got to... Walk. Breathe. Walk. Just like last time.

The computer turns on, and slowly, breathing on every touch, I punch in the codes.

As I enter the last numeral, the tube flicks open, revealing a gigantic missile. What the… Before I can think about this at length, Tenera turns on the commlink again.

"What the hell is this all about?!" I ask.

"Sorry, Tysing, we had to keep you thinking that you were under attack. That you were the hero. Otherwise, you wouldn't have done all this."

Through a glass portion of the wall, I can see someone aiming at me through a sniper rifle. I look around, but there's nowhere to hide.

"Don't worry, it'll stop the pain," she says. Then the commlink shuts off.

I watch, helpless, for a few seconds, as the missile takes off towards the city.

You're not really paranoid if they really are all out to get you. These words, truer than ever, echo through my head.

Then a bullet embeds itself in my skull and ends it.
suddenly, different characters. same world.
© 2012 - 2024 ParanoidGunslinger
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dillydell's avatar
loving this! your writing is improving hugely