Fiorina. ‘Fury’ 161.
2183. December 05.
William Allen, the albino convict is drifting in and out of the utter chaos roiling around in his head, shifting his body around on occasion to prevent the cramps that have already settled in his bones from getting any worse. ‘What a fucking mess… All of it’ This thought he has had many times over since his capture. Hands zip tied tightly behind his back, ankles zip tied even tighter together, the YY chromo lying on his side, his tall lanky frame stretched out in the centre of the infirmary, toward the back of the room where all the beds used to be, there frames lined up along the walls back in his day. Wishing they still were at this point, the cold hard tiles of the floor have been more than uncomfortable over the several hours here, unable to rest at all. The first of which were spent even more uncomfortable and resulted in a burn to his arm, one he can still feel, the radiator that ‘bastard’ marine strapped him too had activated hours later.
‘That twat.’ Believing he did it on purpose, wanting a little payback, the type of guy he is, this would usually be his first order of business, however, since his close encounter with. ‘Whatever the fuck it was?’ Up there in the ducts and having witnessed Billy's much more intimate, closer encounter with the thing, he now has a more pressing issue at hand. ‘How to get the fuck off this rock!’ Something he should have simply been able to do upon request, now however he is being detained, in USCMC custody of all things, currently waiting for whatever decisions are to be made about what to do with him other than. ‘This!’ Drifting again down into the confusion and stress, toes dipping once more into events and how they got him here.
All he was trying to do and has tried to do since his arrival on Fury is what he was hired and tasked to by the corporation, to map this. ‘Godforsaken shit hole!’ Not a day into that one job and the convict, former rival Billy and ‘his little bitch’ Drace showed up to put a spanner in the works. William made quick work of Drace, one stab to the chest, which killed him. ‘In self defence… And he fucking deserved it.’ William will admit to the former hands down and has done so already to one of them out there, the law is in his favour. ’Pointlessly.’ It would appear. Trying to do the same with Billy that he had done to his ‘whore’ lead to a hole in his own neck. ‘With my own blade…’ After that, an almost one way ticket and trip back to hell. ‘Solitary.’ And finally, the one thought he doesn’t want to think about surfaces above the others, the true source of his anxiety washing over them, the close encounter with. ‘That fucking thing up there.’
All of it has resulted in him once again being a prisoner on Fury 161, the technicalities involved do nothing for the irony he feels and he hated it. Rolling onto his back, moving slowly, his throat hurting with the motion, the crude bandage of heavy fabric wrapped around his neck shifts, folds digging into the tender wound beneath until his head falls back completely. Looking up, red eyes staring at the ceiling then the low hanging, rusty encased halogen tube that lights the entire room the best it can, one of the few dotted around the compound that still actually works he is sure of it. The long bulb blinds him a little, leaving a residual glare, a long flared after image over his field of view where the light just was, he has been doing this over and over so that when he eventually does look around the room, the multiple and easily accessible access hatches leading back up into the ventilation network and away from here are slightly obscured. ‘Nope...’ Shaking his head again before the thoughts can form and his eyes drift back over to where he knew each one was, not wanting to go back up there again since sprinting into the black and being found by the marines, or he found them, either one being unfortunate at the time.
The YY begins to wriggle, shifting about, testing his bonds more than he has done before, his body has grown restless in its confined state. He has been in many types of restraints over the years and he knew the worst kind for anyone to be in long term were. ‘Zip ties... Sharp fuckers.' Cutting into his skin. But there's a catch. 'So easy to break.' Even the tougher ones that the military use have the same weakness, a shatter point to be exploited at the right angle, with the right strength applied to them. So far he has not tried, the marines have not been in to check on him personally at any point, the door has opened a few times with one of them hovering behind the plastic curtain out of view but that has been it. Bringing him to the firm conclusion that one of them is most likely sat out there with his motion tracker active. ‘Might as well test that theory.’ He thinks.
Lifting his knees up and using his feet to push, slowly he slides around the room awkwardly on his back and keeps it up until his wound becomes unbearable, possibly split and seeping beneath the bodged bandage, the moment he gives up he hears the door as it is burst through, almost the same as before, this time it sounds with less force and with a few more seconds added to the arrival as the younger of the two marines whips aside the plastic sheet, pulse rifle up, aimed down directly at him as he enters the room slowly and. 'Alone.'
“What are you doing?” Noticing he is still bound but not where they left him, the marine lowers his weapon. “You know I have you tagged.” Tapping the motion tracker hanging beside him. “Whenever you move it tells me.”
“I was uncomfortable.” William says twisting onto his side with a shrug barely looking at him now. “Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable tied up like this. The Rookies expression hints at confusion and a pinch of nervousness even if he is trying so hard not to show it, his age gives it away more than anything, just hanging there for the convict to see and possibly exploit, clearly he is wondering why there was so much movement coming from inside the room from his tied up suspect.
“Stretching my legs.” Lifting one of his long legs up into the air then the other. “Can’t really do my arms.”
“Good for you.” The Rookie says looking around the room. “Now that is out of your system, stop moving.” The Rookie says before looking around once more, briefer this time.
“For the love of god, can I have some water…” William pleads and leaves it in the air as the marine walks around the room. ‘Checking whatever it is he is checking?’ During a moment when the marines back is turned the YY flexes against zip ties around his wrists, in that instant and without drawing any attention to himself in any way at all he knew he could easily get out of them. ‘Then what? Still can’t fly… Still in custody…’ The Rookie stops, without saying anything he reaches into a pouch at his side and pulls out a thick disc, a twist and telescopic slide and the puck is now a cup. Slinging his rifle the marine retrieves his sleek canteen and fills it without spilling a drop, putting it on the floor so he can reattach the cap to his canteen and put it away. Walking over to the YY.
“Don’t try anything.” The Rookie pausing with the notion.
The marine then moves over to his side, leaning down he grabs the convict and drags him towards the wall.
“Argh.. My neck, shit man…” William tries not to yelp as his pain flares with each jolt until he is sat up against a wall. “You think I can do anything with this.” Referring to the wound, lifting his head up, hating how he received it and the marine just looks at it. The YY knew in this state he couldn’t take a marine, even a rookie, as much as he hates to admit it.
“Here…” The marine moves back over to the cup, picks it up and brings it over to him, kneeling beside William he places it to his lips and pours it into his mouth.
“Ah… Ow… Er..” Between each swallow, every gulp stretching the wound at his throat, the Rookie expects some sort of gap where there is none judging by his slow tipping of the cup, the YY sips until the last drops are slurped annoyingly free from the rim.
“Ah… Ow….” And. “Cheers.” The drink hurt but he needed it. “Lucky I didn’t spring a leak…” William chokes a little on the pain and the joke falls flat, the marine not going for it at all.
“Anything else?” The Rookie asks collapsing the cup with an audible. “Snap.”
“Yeah.” The convict follows.
“What?” The marine says then shuffles on the spot before grabbing his weapon, back in his hands he asks again. “What?” This time it sounds more like a command.
“I tried to tell you before…”
“And that was?”
“Look, I know what this is gonna sound like…” William pauses, trying to figure out how best to word exactly what he was about to say.
“Crazy… And I have seen some shit kid let me tell you.” Not even thinking of how he is referring to the marine as he continues, oblivious to his change in stance upon hearing the remark and not liking it.
“Right, remember I was telling you that this was all just a couple cons with an old score to settle.”
“Yeah.” And the Rookie nods thinking back.
“Well there was the one you found…”
“You mean the one you killed?” The marine says.
“Yeah.” Answering quickly, forgetting the factual self defence plea that makes it look a little better, if not acceptable in most places regarding the parties involved.
“Well the other guy, Billy.” William spits his name out, as he looks ahead. “He did this.” Again the YY lifts his head, the wound flares as he displays his neck, the pain prevents him from looking up completely. “When he was about to finish me off…” Skipping the ‘solitary’ portion of the event, diving straight to the ‘Fucked up conclusion. “Something attacked him… Just jumped right onto his face… From out of nowhere, I think it was strangling him...” Finally he had spoken it aloud to someone, William turns back to the marine waiting for his. ‘What attacked him.’ So that he could explain in more detail.
“You expect me to believe that... Like at all.” The Rookies says, pausing to look around as if another party would shed light on what the hell he just said, instead his words shoot William down in a flaming heap, he looks at the marine, so obviously not convinced at all by any of what he had just heard, it’s all over his face, William somehow had totally botched the revelation of the creature in the ducts and the marine turns to leave. Trying to think quick, to somehow recover and failing as he loses his only window to share the nightmare that he definitely saw, all he can think of is to share more. “Something fucking attacked him, and its up there…. A CREATURE.” William raises his voice leaning forward as the marine disappears out of view behind the plastic sheet. “AND ITS FUCKED!” Shouting again, shaking his head again not wanting the thoughts to settle. Sat up right, he now has a better view, a view he did not want, the open vents now sit in his periphery, avoiding them he shifts trying to get comfortable and wondering if he should just break free and wing it, something that has worked for him in the past.
Then something hits him, something that could better his situation in one regard but will certainly screw him over as a whole. ‘My pack.’ The Seegson survival pack granted to him on arrival, forgetting that he had left it in a cell back in the correctional unit 4 prior to entering the ventilation system. Realising only now that if he could get to it, he can use the supplies within to survive for a while, maybe long enough to find a way off Fury. This will involve one of two things, each one difficult in their own way, either by going through the two heavily armed marines posted outside the room, or by slipping back up into the ducts with that. ‘Thing…’ Or more. ‘Things.’ Up there too, William locks up with indecision. ‘Shit.’ Staying down here as uncomfortable as it is at least has marines on standby, a little security in case of more. 'Creepy crawlies.'
(The YY failed his rolls to convince the marine about the facehugger he saw attack Billy, unlucky for him. Now though, what do you guys think, should he try to escape? Would he at this point with what he has seen? Or would he stay put. Again hope you're enjoying the series, more to follow and thank you for reading.)