The gun felt heavy in his hands as he lifted it to his temple.

Nash stood pale, soiled, with silent tears running freely, outlining his face.
Out the window he can only stare as Earth's core spills greedily to it's surface devouring itself whole.

He unleashes his anguish, it's echo revertibrating violently in the confined space.

Nash pulls the trigger.
Once..
Twice.

His screams rip his vocal cords as mercy is not found. His ears ring with the new found blood spilling from them.

Throwing the gun, he spins full circle frantically and then his eyes lock on a means to his end.
With sheer animalistic drive he throws his body forward, opens the maintenance door for the lone space station and let's the dark abyss swallow him whole.

…
..
.



Warm air coaxes him out of his slumber and into a hazy state of consciousness.

Liquid laps at his ankles in steady slow recession.
He opens his eyes lifting his head slightly he finds dark water swirling red sand around his naked body. It was only for a glance before sharp shooting pain brought him back to reality.


This is death?

In a manner of seconds pain fills every crevice of his being until it consumes his mind.

He moans in agony. There is a rustling sound he barely detects as his world goes black yet again....


Sound was the first thing he registered as he fought through haze to consciousness.
Voices?
A dialect that is unfamiliar.
Two voices.
Fear seizes before he even has a chance to remember his own name.

The dialect continues in hushed rushed tones. Vowels and clicks dance in the air as Nash frantically tries to force control back into his limbs. Hours seem to fold into the minute it took
Nash to find his fingers and to ball them into fists. He lays begging silently for his eyelids to lift.

The dialect stops.
Footsteps approach.
Nash opens his eyes.

A man crowned in grey hair that hugs the wrinkles down his cheeks stood s foot away from Nash. His violet eyes portraying strength in the otherwise frail form they guided, stared most curiously at Nash.
Shell shocked Nash could only stare bewildered as his mind frantically tries to piece the fragmented memories together as to what led him here.

The man lets out a low calming vibration from his throat and motions to himself then palm down to the ground. His eye contact is steadily assertive as he slowly flips his palms up to Nash and clicks his tongue in a short rapid rhythm.

Nash holds still as his mind tries to find the map hidden within.

"How....." he finally manages to whisper.

The old man cock's his head slightly and responds in a soft tone, "Ow?"

Nash begins to feel tightening in his chest as flashes of the Earth flood back into his reality.
The gun… the fear...his last breath he took before flinging himself weightless into empty space.

Nash's panic pulls him up into his elbows.
His head spins from pain, his panicked breath overtaking his vision. Blind terror taking over, his mind fades back to black..


© PeightonMakany