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IC Chat / Re: Living in the Half Life World.
« on: November 29, 2011, 05:06:21 PM »Chapter Two - Transferral
Thomas slowly regained his sight, his eyes stinging as they opened. His senses told him he was sitting, a slight comfort that he wasn't dead. His memory was sketchy of the situation that had sent him spiralling into this mess. He wanted to remember, but it was as though something in his mind was blocking access to those memories. He struggled to open his eyes until he was jolted by a movement of the terrain around him. He forced his eyes to open, but they were opened to a blurry mess of a grey and silver surrounding with the slightest of red under him and up through the box he was in. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead where pain struck him in the process. He smoothly ran his index finger over the source of the pain, where he noticed an uneven surface. As he did so, flashbacks of his fall cornered his mind. His sight was slowly returning as he noticed blue over the majority of his body. He was jolted again as the terrain shook, followed by a horn. Good, he now knew he wasn't deafened. As his sight slowly returned, he looked over to the other side of the rectangular object he was caged in, to see a slightly blurry man wearing the same coloured attire as himself. An older voice spoke:
"Are you alright, son? Looks like you've had a nasty fall."
Thomas attempted to speak, but his insides prevented him with the torture of pain. In response, Thomas nodded back to the man and turned to look at the brown square leaning on his leg. As his vision almost cleared, he pulled up the suitcase noticing it felt slightly heavy. He placed it on his lap and opened it, inside were clothes, some food, and his name with numbers below it, '84829'. He closed it, looking around the now known metal box and noticed it was a train. He turned his head to look outside where he saw an endless mist. He guessed that he couldn't of gone far from wherever it was that he'd been taken from. As he leaned further and looked lower, he noticed they were moving across a bridge until darkness covered the train. Thomas turned back to the rest of the carriage in total darkness, whilst attempting to remember what happened.
He continued to concentrate, replaying the images portraying in his head as his train moved into a large city. His concentration decayed as he noticed a single skyscraper that reached into the clouds. The mist had cleared enough for him to notice the tower that seemed to centre in the middle of the city. As Thomas looked at the environment around the train as it moved through the city, it was empty. There were nothing but wrecks of cars and buildings with zero life. Two flying objects went straight over his train carriage which took his vision away from the ghost town. The moment he laid his eyes on them, more flashbacks occurred of him opening wooden curtains to the exact same thing. But the rest was still a blur to him, as he tried to remember who else he could have been with and what could have happened to him. The train began to decelerate as it approached a station, Thomas clutched his suitcase like a life support and leaned out to get a better view. Soon his vision was covered by overheads of metal and other nearby stationary trains. His train soon slowed to a stop at a station he'd never seen before. Other people in his carriage began to stand, clutching their suitcases as if they were their own offspring. Thomas stood, and walked over to the currently closed doors. His legs ached as if he'd pulled every muscle possible, he ignored the pain and held a rail to keep him steady. The doors swung open where two masked figures stood, and ushered the members of the carriage to step off.
Thomas attempted to keep his glare away from the empty mask but could not help it, he had never seen such clothing. He was pushed from behind as he jolted forward, struggling to keep his balance. He turned to see where the force had come from, and it was another man who had a large frown on his face. It was as if hatred had filled his mind toward Thomas in this strange time, from which Thomas turned again and walked into a line of people. They were guided forward toward barriers where more masked men stood, Thomas had so many questions to ask. He tapped the right shoulder of a woman in front of him and spoke:
"Where are we?"
Silence. Nothing came from the young woman's mouth as she ignored Thomas like a ghost. He attempted to get her attention again where a masked man walked over as a beep sound emitted:
"Have we got a problem here, citizen?"
Thomas shook his head, and had his mind stuck on 'Citizen'. What had he meant like that? What does that make this place?
Thomas found it difficult to keep quiet in a world that was no longer familiar to him, it's as if the entire world had ceased to exist and he was on some distant planet. Throwing this preposterous idea from his mind, he drew his attention to the barriers in front of him where several masked men awaited him. An announcement of a soothing woman's voice appeared from speakers around the area:
"Please have your Civil Identification Cards ready for show. Failure to own an identity card will result in off-world relocation."
Thomas thought back to the train, the card he'd seen in his suitcase. He hurried to open his suitcase as all of his belongings dropped out in his rushed attempt. He clawed his things back into his suitcase before another masked man would come over, he wasn't planning on doing something wrong from the looks of those batons in their hands. He took his card and placed it in his top right pocket, keeping it safe like a passport at check-in. As his turn approached, sweat developed on his forehead which he shook off. He approached the stand where he was asked for his name, and his Civil Identification Digits. Thomas quickly moved his hand into his pocket to pull out his card, he then read the five digit number he expected to be right. A satisfying green light appeared through the glass as the darkened figure stated:
"Thomas Murray, your apartment is in District Four, Block A, Number 37. Move through."
A sigh of relief flowed over Thomas as he clutched his suitcase when he pushed the barrier open. He turned a corner sharply keeping the apartment name in his head, when a voice of an older man emitted from the speakers nearby. He turned his head to a nearby monitor which towered over the room to see an old man, probably in his late sixties, in a brown suit addressing the 'city'. Four words were spoken which gave Thomas an idea of where he could be.
"Welcome to City Twenty-One."
"Are you alright, son? Looks like you've had a nasty fall."
Thomas attempted to speak, but his insides prevented him with the torture of pain. In response, Thomas nodded back to the man and turned to look at the brown square leaning on his leg. As his vision almost cleared, he pulled up the suitcase noticing it felt slightly heavy. He placed it on his lap and opened it, inside were clothes, some food, and his name with numbers below it, '84829'. He closed it, looking around the now known metal box and noticed it was a train. He turned his head to look outside where he saw an endless mist. He guessed that he couldn't of gone far from wherever it was that he'd been taken from. As he leaned further and looked lower, he noticed they were moving across a bridge until darkness covered the train. Thomas turned back to the rest of the carriage in total darkness, whilst attempting to remember what happened.
He continued to concentrate, replaying the images portraying in his head as his train moved into a large city. His concentration decayed as he noticed a single skyscraper that reached into the clouds. The mist had cleared enough for him to notice the tower that seemed to centre in the middle of the city. As Thomas looked at the environment around the train as it moved through the city, it was empty. There were nothing but wrecks of cars and buildings with zero life. Two flying objects went straight over his train carriage which took his vision away from the ghost town. The moment he laid his eyes on them, more flashbacks occurred of him opening wooden curtains to the exact same thing. But the rest was still a blur to him, as he tried to remember who else he could have been with and what could have happened to him. The train began to decelerate as it approached a station, Thomas clutched his suitcase like a life support and leaned out to get a better view. Soon his vision was covered by overheads of metal and other nearby stationary trains. His train soon slowed to a stop at a station he'd never seen before. Other people in his carriage began to stand, clutching their suitcases as if they were their own offspring. Thomas stood, and walked over to the currently closed doors. His legs ached as if he'd pulled every muscle possible, he ignored the pain and held a rail to keep him steady. The doors swung open where two masked figures stood, and ushered the members of the carriage to step off.
Thomas attempted to keep his glare away from the empty mask but could not help it, he had never seen such clothing. He was pushed from behind as he jolted forward, struggling to keep his balance. He turned to see where the force had come from, and it was another man who had a large frown on his face. It was as if hatred had filled his mind toward Thomas in this strange time, from which Thomas turned again and walked into a line of people. They were guided forward toward barriers where more masked men stood, Thomas had so many questions to ask. He tapped the right shoulder of a woman in front of him and spoke:
"Where are we?"
Silence. Nothing came from the young woman's mouth as she ignored Thomas like a ghost. He attempted to get her attention again where a masked man walked over as a beep sound emitted:
"Have we got a problem here, citizen?"
Thomas shook his head, and had his mind stuck on 'Citizen'. What had he meant like that? What does that make this place?
Thomas found it difficult to keep quiet in a world that was no longer familiar to him, it's as if the entire world had ceased to exist and he was on some distant planet. Throwing this preposterous idea from his mind, he drew his attention to the barriers in front of him where several masked men awaited him. An announcement of a soothing woman's voice appeared from speakers around the area:
"Please have your Civil Identification Cards ready for show. Failure to own an identity card will result in off-world relocation."
Thomas thought back to the train, the card he'd seen in his suitcase. He hurried to open his suitcase as all of his belongings dropped out in his rushed attempt. He clawed his things back into his suitcase before another masked man would come over, he wasn't planning on doing something wrong from the looks of those batons in their hands. He took his card and placed it in his top right pocket, keeping it safe like a passport at check-in. As his turn approached, sweat developed on his forehead which he shook off. He approached the stand where he was asked for his name, and his Civil Identification Digits. Thomas quickly moved his hand into his pocket to pull out his card, he then read the five digit number he expected to be right. A satisfying green light appeared through the glass as the darkened figure stated:
"Thomas Murray, your apartment is in District Four, Block A, Number 37. Move through."
A sigh of relief flowed over Thomas as he clutched his suitcase when he pushed the barrier open. He turned a corner sharply keeping the apartment name in his head, when a voice of an older man emitted from the speakers nearby. He turned his head to a nearby monitor which towered over the room to see an old man, probably in his late sixties, in a brown suit addressing the 'city'. Four words were spoken which gave Thomas an idea of where he could be.
"Welcome to City Twenty-One."