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The Beginning -Working title-


Liquid_awesomes

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I

Nothing

 

Nothing at all

 

No pain, no discomfort. He felt neither hot, nor cold. There was no odour in the air and he could feel no surface on which he stood. He was clean and shaven, with a close crop of dark hair on his head. A simple robe hung from his body, rough linen and starch white. It was tied with a rope at the waist, yet he could not feel it.

 

But…

 

He held his hands out in front of him, each finger was clean, nails short and manicured. Around his neck hung an aquillia, the small brass image on a fine gold chain.

 

But…

 

He reached up to touch his face, smooth, not pitted. He blinked.

 

Blinked

 

Blinked again

 

Suddenly, it struck him. He had lost his right hand over fifty years ago, replaced with a bionic made of brass and iron. He had not had hair for longer than he could remember, shaved as part of long past training. His left eye, lost in combat in the last decade, replaced with an optic unit. His body was covered in scars, too many to count. He should not be able to blink.

 

Fear gripped him, overwhelming and total. His mind tried to shy away, to hide under a mental stone behind mental doors in the farthest reaches of his mind. His body crouched, involuntarily curling into the foetal position.

 

NO

 

He was the master of fear, it would not control him. He reined in his mind, blasting open the doors and kicking over the rocks until the fear left him. With more effort than it had ever taken, he forced himself upwards.

 

Standing, he focused on his surroundings. What had been nothing was slowly becoming corporeal. The white light was fading, nothing becoming something. Who was he? Why was he here? Where is here? Even as the thoughts lefts his mind, his surroundings began to spin. He tumbled, over and over, falling an eternity in seconds. The fear returned, primal and base. It was far stronger than he had ever felt it, smashing aside his mental resilience like matchsticks in a storm. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He tried to flail, but his limbs where leaden and slow. In his mind, thoughts began to run like quicksilver, melting into one stream of constant panic,

running likeariverthroughthelandscapeofhismind, hecouldnotgraspanythingforamoment,secondspassedinyearsandyethecarriedonfalling,fallingtowardssomthin

ghedidnotknow…

 

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So im notorious for not finishing things I start, so ive written a few chapters before I start posting this time. This is the first, and if you think its good enough, ill carry on posting the rest. Any thoughts? Also, I need a decent name for this story if anyone is feeling inspired.

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