Ragos Terrek
a.k.a. Ghost
He woke up with a gargled gasp from a dream he didn’t remember having. His breathing was ragged and labored. It was becoming clear that it wouldn’t take long before he wouldn’t be breathing at all. He was drowning. It made no sense, he was on land, very on land it would seem. His eyes scanned his surroundings searching for answers. He found more and more questions.
He was indoors. The room was small and barely furnished. An overturned table was the centerpiece of the room, laying toppled over on a dust covered rug that at one point may have had color but due to wear and time was grey and stained on the parts that hadn’t been eaten by insects. There was an armchair that looked just as bad as the rug, worse even with the apparently fresh blood stain. So at least he knew where he was. Sort of. He couldn’t have said how he got here or what planet this was or why he gurgled when he breathed.
With great effort he picked himself up off of the floor and took a step toward what looked like the door. Something crunched under his foot. He looked down and saw he had stepped on an empty glass vial. His heart began to race and choked and coughed on his lack of air as he began to remember more.
He looked around again. Where was Choka? Where was the chit? Why the kark couldn’t he breathe? His hand went to his side and he winced, when he brought it back up it was hot and sticky with blood. He reached down again and once again began to cough when he tried to cry out in pain. There was definitely something in there. Something metal by the feel of it. Well at least he knew what was drowning him. His own blood.
He pushed out of the room and apparently out onto the street. He stumbled down the stone walkway as he tried to keep himself alive. It took several minutes or maybe several days for him to find a part of this town that wasn’t abandoned buildings. He practically fell into the first occupied building he found.
A shop. Nothing fancy. Knick-knacks, pottery, rugs, charms. It was quaint. He was dying.
He did not see the shop owner. He no longer saw anything thing, the world around him had gone dark.
“Help…please.”
He asked for help. Or he tried to. He hoped he had tried to. He fell back to sleep there in the shop.
Briana Sal-Soren
He was indoors. The room was small and barely furnished. An overturned table was the centerpiece of the room, laying toppled over on a dust covered rug that at one point may have had color but due to wear and time was grey and stained on the parts that hadn’t been eaten by insects. There was an armchair that looked just as bad as the rug, worse even with the apparently fresh blood stain. So at least he knew where he was. Sort of. He couldn’t have said how he got here or what planet this was or why he gurgled when he breathed.
With great effort he picked himself up off of the floor and took a step toward what looked like the door. Something crunched under his foot. He looked down and saw he had stepped on an empty glass vial. His heart began to race and choked and coughed on his lack of air as he began to remember more.
He looked around again. Where was Choka? Where was the chit? Why the kark couldn’t he breathe? His hand went to his side and he winced, when he brought it back up it was hot and sticky with blood. He reached down again and once again began to cough when he tried to cry out in pain. There was definitely something in there. Something metal by the feel of it. Well at least he knew what was drowning him. His own blood.
He pushed out of the room and apparently out onto the street. He stumbled down the stone walkway as he tried to keep himself alive. It took several minutes or maybe several days for him to find a part of this town that wasn’t abandoned buildings. He practically fell into the first occupied building he found.
A shop. Nothing fancy. Knick-knacks, pottery, rugs, charms. It was quaint. He was dying.
He did not see the shop owner. He no longer saw anything thing, the world around him had gone dark.
“Help…please.”
He asked for help. Or he tried to. He hoped he had tried to. He fell back to sleep there in the shop.
Briana Sal-Soren