alessiodoomboy
Radio Bob Approved
- Joined
- Mar 24, 2022
- Messages
- 370
- Thread Author
- #1
“Es-tu ma maman?”
The girl asked, tugging at a stranger's jacket. There must’ve been hundreds here, each pushing against each other in competition for space. The tunnels of the London Underground buzzed lowly with the anxiety of the masses, punctuated with the blasts from the battle above.
“Es-tu-?”
The lights flickered, and turned off. The idle chatter of the crowd went silent as each soul held its breath. The wriggling mass had gone still, giving the girl space to squeeze past someone's legs. She couldn't see anyone, now. So she raised her voice louder.
“Es-tu ma maman? Es-tu ma maman?”
A loud crackle echoed across the walls accompanied by a green flash. The girl raised her head and turned to look at the source of the noise, but all she could see was the crowd. They started to scream. A unified, high pitched ringing sound that lasted longer that lasted longer than any human being could hold their breath. More flashes of green light shone through the tunnel as gunshots started to ring out. The girl collapsed onto the floor, knocked over by the weight of those fleeing. She shielded her head with her hands as dozens of boots came down onto her. They kicked her head forwards, cuts opening on her cheek as her face was repeatedly slammed into the rocks between the rails.
She raised her head as the crowd started to thin, the constant gunshots illuminating the room in flashes. There was a splatter of blood over her back which wasn’t hers, and somehow her hands had been covered in it. She noticed a nook in the wall nearby - just large enough to fit her, and she started dragging herself forwards. She waded over the bodies on all fours, her ears aching from all the noise. There was a squelch as she accidentally dipped her hand into what remained of someone’s skull, and someone kicked her in the stomach and tripped over her as she crawled.
Someone else was in her hiding spot, and the girl felt her heart sink. It was another girl around her age with tears welling in her eyes. The two held eyes, but all the thief could offer the girl was a remorseful look. A pair of pulse bullets flew through the air and a shot of pain exploded in the girl's side as they passed through her body, and she fell to the floor. Dead.
CERN? What’s at CERN?
The hallways were quiet. Fleur imagined that this place had once been quite lively in a time before the war. Now it was littered with bodies and blood, and so damaged she had a hard time imagining it repaired. She hadn’t noticed how lonely it felt back then, with the full force of the resistance behind her back. Now she was here with a small team, and they’d spent the past evening clearing a small section of the building well enough to walk around alone. They were here for the betterment of the new world. To recover the wealth of scientific knowledge that must be stored here, maybe one day to turn it into a great, Genevan academy. For now, they were here to make sure the monsters in the dark were all gone.
Fleur stopped as she stepped past a spot of dried blood on the floor. She touched the spot on her head where Noel had come just shy of ending her life where a small scar had formed, and let out a quiet sigh to herself. At the least, she’d sent that Elite running off with her. The reverie was broken by an exchange between Eleanor and Ludwig over the radio as the Doves were gathering for the night. Fleur was exhausted, but she volunteered to take first watch.
There was a dead synth in the hallway of the rooms they’d taken as their quarters for the night which Fleur sat opposite to. Dozens, maybe hundreds of bullets had been needed to take it down, leaving it riddled with holes that rendered it beyond recognition. Whatever had finally taken it out had left it slumped against the wall, its head tilted to the side. They had tried to move it away, but it was just too heavy. Fleur wondered what they’d do if it woke up. She spent the first half an hour of her watch staring at it, her rifle resting in her lap, allowing herself the delusion to think that it could be of help.
But it was dead. It didn’t stir in its sleep, its insides didn’t make the soft whir of machinery that gave a living synth away. The odd and discoloured blood dripping out its injuries was mostly gone now. Fleur steadily allowed herself to relax in its presence. The fight was over, the enemy was dead.
The next few hours went by without a sound, and with another half hour of her watch Fleur felt her eyelids getting heavy. She tilted her head down and let her rifle rest by her side, and knew that if she rested her eyes just for a moment, everything would be fine. She took in a deep breath and felt herself drift to sleep.
The girl asked, tugging at a stranger's jacket. There must’ve been hundreds here, each pushing against each other in competition for space. The tunnels of the London Underground buzzed lowly with the anxiety of the masses, punctuated with the blasts from the battle above.
“Es-tu-?”
The lights flickered, and turned off. The idle chatter of the crowd went silent as each soul held its breath. The wriggling mass had gone still, giving the girl space to squeeze past someone's legs. She couldn't see anyone, now. So she raised her voice louder.
“Es-tu ma maman? Es-tu ma maman?”
A loud crackle echoed across the walls accompanied by a green flash. The girl raised her head and turned to look at the source of the noise, but all she could see was the crowd. They started to scream. A unified, high pitched ringing sound that lasted longer that lasted longer than any human being could hold their breath. More flashes of green light shone through the tunnel as gunshots started to ring out. The girl collapsed onto the floor, knocked over by the weight of those fleeing. She shielded her head with her hands as dozens of boots came down onto her. They kicked her head forwards, cuts opening on her cheek as her face was repeatedly slammed into the rocks between the rails.
She raised her head as the crowd started to thin, the constant gunshots illuminating the room in flashes. There was a splatter of blood over her back which wasn’t hers, and somehow her hands had been covered in it. She noticed a nook in the wall nearby - just large enough to fit her, and she started dragging herself forwards. She waded over the bodies on all fours, her ears aching from all the noise. There was a squelch as she accidentally dipped her hand into what remained of someone’s skull, and someone kicked her in the stomach and tripped over her as she crawled.
Someone else was in her hiding spot, and the girl felt her heart sink. It was another girl around her age with tears welling in her eyes. The two held eyes, but all the thief could offer the girl was a remorseful look. A pair of pulse bullets flew through the air and a shot of pain exploded in the girl's side as they passed through her body, and she fell to the floor. Dead.
CERN? What’s at CERN?
The hallways were quiet. Fleur imagined that this place had once been quite lively in a time before the war. Now it was littered with bodies and blood, and so damaged she had a hard time imagining it repaired. She hadn’t noticed how lonely it felt back then, with the full force of the resistance behind her back. Now she was here with a small team, and they’d spent the past evening clearing a small section of the building well enough to walk around alone. They were here for the betterment of the new world. To recover the wealth of scientific knowledge that must be stored here, maybe one day to turn it into a great, Genevan academy. For now, they were here to make sure the monsters in the dark were all gone.
Fleur stopped as she stepped past a spot of dried blood on the floor. She touched the spot on her head where Noel had come just shy of ending her life where a small scar had formed, and let out a quiet sigh to herself. At the least, she’d sent that Elite running off with her. The reverie was broken by an exchange between Eleanor and Ludwig over the radio as the Doves were gathering for the night. Fleur was exhausted, but she volunteered to take first watch.
There was a dead synth in the hallway of the rooms they’d taken as their quarters for the night which Fleur sat opposite to. Dozens, maybe hundreds of bullets had been needed to take it down, leaving it riddled with holes that rendered it beyond recognition. Whatever had finally taken it out had left it slumped against the wall, its head tilted to the side. They had tried to move it away, but it was just too heavy. Fleur wondered what they’d do if it woke up. She spent the first half an hour of her watch staring at it, her rifle resting in her lap, allowing herself the delusion to think that it could be of help.
But it was dead. It didn’t stir in its sleep, its insides didn’t make the soft whir of machinery that gave a living synth away. The odd and discoloured blood dripping out its injuries was mostly gone now. Fleur steadily allowed herself to relax in its presence. The fight was over, the enemy was dead.
The next few hours went by without a sound, and with another half hour of her watch Fleur felt her eyelids getting heavy. She tilted her head down and let her rifle rest by her side, and knew that if she rested her eyes just for a moment, everything would be fine. She took in a deep breath and felt herself drift to sleep.
