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59013 nods. He mutters, ”So it seems to continue.”
”Monsters? We aren’t monsters. We woke up in a prison with a shape changing beast about to try and cut us up. I’ve no idea how any of us got here, just that we woke up on the wrong side of a wall and now we’re bein’ called monsters.”
59013 steps toward the men and says in his somewhat meek voice, "Are ye' friends? We've just woken from one nightmare into another, I'd hope that you aren't heralds of further mis'ry."
59013 says in his somewhat soft voice, "Could we wait for a moment. I'd like to...invite my...friend to come help us. Without 'im I'm a sittin' duck." Unless people object, 59013 will bring forth his phantom, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth as the being pulls itself out of his chest.
Glad you're back, looking forward to getting going again!
59013 cries out, "Bloody hell!" He steps back and a chunk of rubble rises off the ground. However, he is unable to maintain focus and the rubble falls once more.
As people have been saying, take your time and take care of yourself. We'll be here.
59013 begins to concentrate as a suit of intangible force comes into being around him.
59013 follows Thomas and once Peyton finishes speakin, "I can't say I know what the thing that came out of me was. Somethin' came over me, a haze of some kinda' anger. I apologise if I scared ya'. There's certainly somethin' goin' on that's a bit...beyond what we could be familiar with. I can't quite remember my name, so I can't introduce myself quite well. The only thing that comes to me is 59013, so I guess ya' can call me that. I think we'd best get out of here, though a bit of preparation could be good. We shouldn't linger though. The sooner I get back to...I can't rightly remember where I need to be, but I'd rather be anywhere than here."
59013 clears his throat, "My apologies ma'am, I'll be out of yer' hair." He heads out of the room and sits against the wall. What was it that I was told? I cannot remember what it was or who it was. But I must remember, I was told I could not forget. What was it?"
As the woman disappears into the chute, 59013 relaxes slightly. His phantom returns to him, melding into him once more. He seems to break out of whatever strange trance of rage he had been in. He says softly, even timidly in an Irish brogue, "Where...where are we? And what on God's green Earth was that thing?" He goes to the sacks of items, grabbing the items that he felt compelled to pick up. As he notices the chute, anger bubbles up in his mind once more, but he is able to fight it down, replacing fury with determination. He says in a slightly more confident voice, "We'd best get out of here. I don't want to linger too long."
Indeed, a very merry Christmas to all those that celebrate it!
59013 walks out of his cell and directs his phantom to charge at the woman, trying to grab her.
59013 nods at his phantom, who lets out a howl and runs at the bars, briefly becoming incorporeal before solidifying back into ectoplasm. It moves towards the woman, trying to grab her.
As the arms emerge from his chest and the phantasmal figure hauls itself forth, 59013 smiles, thankful he will be less powerless with his spectral ally. The phantom lands on the ground, although it restrains its rage-filled howl at 59013's urging.
As the beast kills him, 59013 sees a brief glimpse of his home in Ireland, dissipating into the brutal reality as he wakes up. He wipes the blood from his nose, rubbing it on the cotton pajamas. He sees the man being tortured on the table and his eyes widen. He mutters determinedly, "From one hell to another. We will escape this nightmare!" His breathing gets heavier and his fists clench as the red glow begins to emanate off of him once more.
59013 begins muttering, prayers to God, the Tuatha Dé Dannan, anything that will listen. His phantom, a picture of rage, seems to pale in comparison to the maliciousness of the beast in yellow. Both back away from the phantom, trying to delay the inevitable a bit longer.
M-59013's shoulders sag at the inevitability of the situation. He focuses for a moment before an incandescent sheen envelops him, offering a bit more protection from the beast. His phantom draws back to 59013, arms readied to attack the creature if it came near him or his master.
The phantom launches itself at the creature, bellowing with anger. 59013 breathes heavily before gesturing at a rock on the ground which flies at the beast in tattered rags. He stares at his hand, eyes wide with surprise at what he's just done. Cad é ifreann aisteach é seo? A Thiarna, cad a rinne mé chun an chinniúint seo a fháil? Cén fáth nach féidir leat a insint dom cad is gá dom a mheabhrú? CÉARD? Irish:
What strange hell is this? Lord, what've I done to deserve this fate? Why can't you tell me what I must remember? WHY?
A small dark haired man looks about in a dazed state, mumbling to himself. As the creature appears he gets louder, "I can't remember. They told me I could not forget it, but I can't remember what it is." His breathing becomes and his hands curl into fists. A strange reddish glow emanates off of him as spectral arms emerge from his chest. A phantasmal figure emerges, looking like a muscular version of 59013, it's face contorted with rage. The phantom readies to attack the beast should it draw near. |