In the Cold Dark
Dec. 6th, 2022 06:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
risk_managementKlaxons sound.
Emergency lighting douses everything in a dim, red hue. Under foot the ground heaves and its painful judder can be felt in the roots of his teeth. Fine dust leaves prints of his boots where he runs up the tunnels. The stench of iron fills the air. An ear-piercing shriek can just faintly be heard somewhere in the complex. He rounds a corner and swears.
This one's sealed off, too. His thumb jabs out to access the terminal next to the door. Demands access with every credential he has or knows his commanding officer to have he can leverage. They're coming. Another shriek. Closer this time. The stench is in his pores he can feel their hunger in the marrow of his bones--
No salvation. Just the Security AI of the facility giving away his position as it blares a refusal to open vault doors. Why Jim doesn't demand an override or try to go for his weapon he doesn't know. He's not himself. Strangers round the corner asking if he's got the door open. One bleeds from a deep gash on her arm. Blood in the air. They've lead those things here.
To a dead end where they're trapped. No escape. No salvation. No survival.
Jim's not sure it's even him who screams when they're no longer alone. For help. For backup. He doesn't know.
He's doused in a cold sweat when he jerks upright from his cot. His pulse thuds heavy enough he can feel it in his fingertips. When did he...? Fuck, no not this. Not again. Jim tries to vault out of bed but it ends up being more of a stumble. It's been getting worse and worse every time he sleeps. He needs to get up. Get dressed. Go exercise or something.
Anything to stay awake.
Emergency lighting douses everything in a dim, red hue. Under foot the ground heaves and its painful judder can be felt in the roots of his teeth. Fine dust leaves prints of his boots where he runs up the tunnels. The stench of iron fills the air. An ear-piercing shriek can just faintly be heard somewhere in the complex. He rounds a corner and swears.
This one's sealed off, too. His thumb jabs out to access the terminal next to the door. Demands access with every credential he has or knows his commanding officer to have he can leverage. They're coming. Another shriek. Closer this time. The stench is in his pores he can feel their hunger in the marrow of his bones--
No salvation. Just the Security AI of the facility giving away his position as it blares a refusal to open vault doors. Why Jim doesn't demand an override or try to go for his weapon he doesn't know. He's not himself. Strangers round the corner asking if he's got the door open. One bleeds from a deep gash on her arm. Blood in the air. They've lead those things here.
To a dead end where they're trapped. No escape. No salvation. No survival.
Jim's not sure it's even him who screams when they're no longer alone. For help. For backup. He doesn't know.
He's doused in a cold sweat when he jerks upright from his cot. His pulse thuds heavy enough he can feel it in his fingertips. When did he...? Fuck, no not this. Not again. Jim tries to vault out of bed but it ends up being more of a stumble. It's been getting worse and worse every time he sleeps. He needs to get up. Get dressed. Go exercise or something.
Anything to stay awake.
