Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Shining Arc

The room was dark, with the exception of a single bright light creating a pool of visibility in the center of the room. I felt as though I was watching from afar, but I could see my body, standing beside a rough wooden table in the centre. I tried to shout, but no sound came out. I couldn’t move. Two men appeared behind me, dressed in the uniforms of Veto Corporation Security. They grabbed my shoulders, pressed me down until my cheek was resting against the coarse wood of the table. I still couldn’t move, couldn’t scream a warning to myself. It was like I was wrapped in molasses. A huge figure appeared in the edges of the light behind me, the gloom concealing his identity until he stepped forward into the circle. An enormous Gallente man, with spiked red hair; undoubtedly Ethan Verone, the man who leads my alliance. I can’t understand what’s happening, until my mind finally registers that the object dangling loosely from his left hand is a vicious axe, well worn with use, but with a glinting razor edge. He extends a hand to my head, rests it there for a moment, then says “Sorry, kid, but they’re shouting for blood, and I have to give them something. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before going off half-cocked, hmm?” I try to look away, shut my eyes, anything, but can’t, as that axe rises into the air, then hangs above his head for one glimmering second, before crashing down...

I jerk awake, my eyes flicking open, but there’s only darkness. Then, they begin to adjust, and I can make out my apartment. I pull myself into a sitting position, my body covered in a cold sweat, the sheets twisted around me. I rub my neck, feeling a dull ache. “Lights,” I mutter, then shout as the room flares to actinic white brilliance. The glare stabs into me even through my closed eyelids, and I add “Lights, Dusk.” I see the glare of the lights fade, and risk opening my eyes. It’s better now, I’m bathed in a soft orange glow. I rub my forehead, wiping away the drops of cold sweat, and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. It’s early, but I may as well take a shower, and go fly something. No way I’m sleeping again.


  1. Excellent once again Rax, gripping stuff.


  2. In RANSM, we would have waited for you to be revived, then let you join us to play football with your head.

  3. Continuing on Sard's post:

    And the end zone would have been your arse.