On the station roof a pair of eyes open slowly. The owner of the eyes peers around with no obvious recognition of where he is. How strange, he thinks. Just a few seconds ago I was out in the forest looking for something to eat, and now I'm.. where?
It's all very odd. I can't move my arms. They're stuck out in front of me, holding my bow. It's a good hunting bow, that one. Hang on, I can't move anything at all. Just my eyes. Something's not quite right here. He looks around as far as his eyes will let him. This isn't the forest.
There are.. strange things everywhere, and many shiny metal rails down below him, half of which descend suddenly into darkness. He blinks to try and get the fine black dust out of his eyes. What circle of hell has he landed in? Huddled figures pass by underneath, paying him no heed. He tries to call out, but they don't hear. A gust of wind swirls the dust around his feet, and the Archer drifts off back to sleep.
Posted by mpk at May 28, 2004 8:18 PM | TrackBack