Thread Rating:
  • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Fried Fingers
#1
I was hunting for something unknown, exactly what was uncertain.
Something was hunting me, exactly who was uncertain.
Found myself with a likeminded group of people.
They too were certain that something was awry.
Why had all of us come to this same destination?
The only conclusion was something important was taking place.
Being hunted I wished to stay on the move.
A brunette woman became my companion as we left the group.
Walking down opposite"s sides of a well manicured empty street an airship left a contrail.
We followed the contrail, until an attack helicopter circled in front of us.
It hovered and was poised to strike when from nowhere it was struck down.
The helicopter circled wildly out of control. It was headed for a large empty chain linked fence lot.
Something told me this was what I was looking for.
Heading for the lot my companion attempted to dissuade me.
Ignoring the protest, I proceeded to and climbed over the chain linked fence just as the copter crashed.
The blades of the copters propelled the body of the copter forwards lurching closer to me with every rotation.
The copter blades snapped and flew off as the copter"s body swung around in a spiraling motion.
Then the tail and the rear rotor blades made a final swing in my direction, breaking as they grounded against the earth. It stopped short of my location.
A final explosion ripped through the copter spewing out its contents.
Looking out from my crouched posture, I saw it. A blue football sized box with a wide brown central trim. Three large buttons adorned the angular top of the box.
This was it. I was uncertain as to the function of the box but knew it was behind all that transpired.
My only thought was to secure the box. Reaching with both hands to take possession of it an incredible searing heat surged through me. The box had literally fried both my hands down to the first knuckles.
As I saw just the stubs of my fingers, I knew I could not let go. The Box had melted my fingers to it.
Again the only thought was to not let the Box out of my possession and that at least my finger still had stubs to manipulate a keyboard.
The next instance I saw both hands fried black, there were however signs of skin under the burnt char. Rubbing one hand against the other the charred skin peeled back to reveal a semblance of what were my hands. The fingers to the first knuckles remained intact.
This was a good sign I thought. With the force of will, I began rubbing each finger of my left hand forward and slowly they grew back to almost normal size with the exception of the middle finger which remained a stub.
Then I proceeded to do the same to my right hand. All the fingers responded but several grew larger than anticipated. The fingers appeared slightly alien. Never the less I was appreciative to have two almost functional hands.
I then found myself in the presence of my former employer. More rehabilitation would follow to return my hands to normal. I was assured that my work had not yet finished.
Reply


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)