GuNNhead

The man slowly walks in the opposite direction, not really knowing what to do with himself. Unbeknownst to him, synapses are reforming, and thoughts occur without knowledge… They think that commonly, there’d some sort of recognizable thing to do, but this place doesn’t quite lend itself to their regenerating neural pathways, neither does my situation. They believe for a moment that it’s all about perspective, perhaps they are simply bewildered. His thoughts turn to hunger as its memory wrenches about his gut. “Hmm, okay, sure I just almost got eaten by a giant bug, who cares: I’m used to these kinds of things; this is nothing that new. My omega surge suit isn’t working, but I know what I have to do without it: find food, and find shelter. Easy.”

He walks into the jungle, in search of small fruits, or some signs of civilization. Though he especially and unknowingly searches for his mind. He comes upon a tall tree, with a cornucopia of large, yellow fruits at the very top. The tree is far too broad around to climb, and he does not yet fully realize who he is, who I am.
“Okay,” he says aloud, “Let’s see if I can make a crude bow and arrow set…”
He searches for the proper materials. A pliable, yet strong tree branch, simple to find, there’s a perfect one right at his feet in the brush. There are another few twigs that will make perfect arrows. Looking around, there’s nothing to use as the string.
“Well,” he says, looking up, holding and shaking his materials gently, “I guess there’s food… now to look for shelter…” He stretches, and feels a familiar twinge at the base of his neck. His suit’s repairing itself, slowly, alongside his perception. I may have enough power in a few hours. “…and pick up some kindling on the way.”

He walks with his string-less bow and arrows through the jungle, it is nightfall by the time he finds a large cave opening. He goes into it, knowing that while it’s not the best shelter imaginable, it is still far too small for that mantis, and that he’d hear anything else coming, as they’re so large, “so,” he decides, “it should be good enough for the night.” With his kindling, he starts a fire near the mouth of the cave. Still wondering what he could use for his bow-string, he looks around the cave curiously, and walks a bit deeper, casually exploring it. His suit constructs full spectral viewing lenses on instinct, unrealizing. As he gets deeper, he gets to softer ground, colored off-white. Walking even deeper, the ground gets softer, and thicker, it is no longer a covering on the ground, it is the ground. He picks up a piece of it and finds out that it’s string! He pulls, but it seems endless, so he roughly cuts a long bit off, and ties it to his piece of wood. He now has a bow and arrow set, and is very proud of himself.
The ground starts to gently vibrate. “Must be a small earthquake…”

This entry was posted on September 30, 2009 at 7:10 am and is filed under Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.