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She awoke, though not with a start, not all and sudden, but slowly. Like feeling returning to a numb limb, only, this was her entire body, every fiber of her being breathing in the musty air and waking. So slowly. She felt heavy, packed with more meat than belonged to one body. She stood, the click sounding heavy and loud in her own ears. What was it?
Heels.
The long, cruel heels of a pair of leather boots. Which were brown, made to resemble the thorns of a rose. She was disgusted by the simple sights of her footwear. She kicked them off, pushing them away from her and looking down at her pale feet, garbed only in worn black socks that nevertheless looked clean. She wasn't about to smell-check.
She wore baggy clothing, except for her top, which was a plain black tank top. It looked too small for her, though it fit her build fine.
She was horribly slender, though didn't look unhealthy. Perhaps even a touch muscular, that would be the only explanation for whatever weight she did have.
Now, she turned her eyes to the world around her.
This place was old, abandoned. What she had awoken on was the sort of table they might use for an autopsy. But this place was so barren. Dust gathered anywhere that it could grab hold, and the white tiled floors were now black with dirt, though not solidly. There were no lights, and various plants had broken through the floor and ceiling. She could see the outside from where she was.
It was a nice day, that was, except for the thick clouds of smoke that hung over the blue sky which might have otherwise been beautiful. She moved slowly towards the door, but a harsh voice caught her attention before she could've made it very far.
"You! What are you doing? Get the hell out of here!"
There was a flash in her eye, and she wasn't sure what she was doing before she took a defensive stance, or what she could only assume was one. The man did not back off, though. He was young, perhaps in his thirties, his eyes were hallow, empty. Like the sockets of a skeleton's, but filled with the actual eye organ. It had the same effect. He was dangerously underweight and looked as if he lifted weights to make up for his possible anorexia. Not quite a walking skeleton, but she wouldn't be surprised if he pulled of a mask to reveal a lack of real flesh. He looked surprised, he hadn't expected her to be here, and knew that he wasn't supposed to be. But why wouldn't he? He wore a pair of baggy army pants, and a heavy jacket, but she could see the very edge of the sleeve of his white wife beater under the collar of his jacket. She couldn't guess what he was doing here.
He didn't move closer, but looked back, and she saw slight panic in his eye. Something he was trying to hide, but of what?
"Don't be an idiot, come on, this whole place is coming down!" He didn't sound scared. He knew this place was coming down, so that was why he was there?
This, though, was a good reason to get out, and she nodded to him, dropping her stance and following at a slight jog. He was not nearly as eager to escape as she was. As if he had really wanted to stay and watch the building come down around him.
It was not a long walk to reach the camp, for it couldn't have even been a quarter mile. They did not talk on the way. She noticed that many of the people here wore the same attire as her. A tall man walked towards her, he was not old, only in his forties, perhaps. Obviously he enjoyed his ranking. He stepped over and yanked at the chain around her neck.
Easily, a pair of dog tags allowed themselves to slip out from the neck of her shirt. He read the number silently to himself, considering.
"Four-Five-Two-Eight-Three, your name?" He inquired, his voice far harsher than the other man's, it was course, like sandpaper. She doubted that a heart beat within the confines of his rib cage. She had no answer, and shook her head mutely.
An explosion shook her from her shock and put her into a whole nother stage of it, she turned but then there was another yank that forced her attention.
She watched as a gentleman in his mid twenties pushed through the crowd that was beginning to build, and ran towards her.
"Victoria?" He asked, his voice like that that she would expect of a normal person, not one of this sand papery crew of soldiers. "Victoria, is that you? Oh, my God!"
She felt all eyes on her and stumbled forward very suddenly, though not from the force of another, or the jerk of her dogtags, but from another explosion, and then another. She didn't even hear the rattle as the man in charge dropped her chain and began to walk away.
"Victoria? Look at me!" He snapped suddenly, and when she turned to face him he uttered apologies she couldn't quite decipher. "We thought you were dead, do you realize that you've been gone for an entire five years?!"
She looked at him, clueless. "Who is Victoria?" She asked, surprised to find that she had a feminine voice that held authority.
 X x __ compos M E N T i S · Thu Apr 10, 2008 @ 05:26am · 0 Comments |
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