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World War VI
Creative
 Created on 11-13-07
 Views(49)
 Story Rating G
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World War VI Darkness… What is happening? Where am I? Frightening thoughts raced though Jeana’s mind as she looked around into a black, barren void. She felt around with her hands; nothing but cold, steel walls. She had no recollection of what was going on. Am I going to die here? She tried to remember. She needed to understand. Jeana felt a drowsiness fall over her. The oxygen was slowly diminishing. She knew that she soon would not be able to breathe. She needed to stay alert and find a way out in a hurry. Trying not to panic, she closed her eyes. Knowing that there was no way out, she began to say a prayer, calling out to God or anyone that might be listening. It had been what felt like an hour. Still, no one came. Her breath was becoming short and rapid. She began to fade in and out of consciousness. Her eyelids drew too heavy. Jeana drifted into a deep sleep. Dementia set in and she had visions of the past. Swirls of smoke and ash rose from a war-torn city. Desolate, barren lands scorched by radioactive fires gave a feeling of self-mutilated hopelessness. News clips flashed in broken sense. “We should have seen this coming…” “Multiple nuclear blasts all across the planet…” “At this point, to remain in your homes is futile. Get as far underground as you can…” “Quite literally, all Hell has broken loose!” Suddenly, Jeana felt a rush of cold air pour into her lungs. Oxygen! She was breathing! She slowly opened her eyes. She was lying in a cold, uncomfortable bed. She saw a blur of radiant light pass overhead. “Where are you taking me?” Her short trip ended in an unfamiliar room. Still dazed from the lack of oxygen, she forced a desperate cry. “Where am I?” Jeana tensed up from a barb of pain in her neck. She looked up at a tall man injecting something into her. Judging from the get-up he was in, this man was a doctor of some sort. She started to fight him off, but lost what little strength she had. Jeana faded out again. * * * Disoriented from whatever poison it was inside her bloodstream, Jeana opened her eyes again. Her head was pounding. The thought of resting her head in a natural sleep crossed her mind, but the idea of sleeping in a cold, damp room made her shiver. A very dry cough hacked its way out. Her throat was parched. She looked dizzily around the room for something, anything to drink. She noticed a glass of water on a countertop a few steps away. She heard a clank and felt the pull against her attempt to quench her thirst. She looked around at the straps that bound her. Jeana’s heart sank when she realized getting out of bed would be impossible. She hoarsely coughed as she looked up at the water. She was so thirsty. The glass then began to slide off of the counter. It flew, seemingly unaided, towards Jeana with an amazing force. CRASH!!! The glass of water splattered the wall beside her head. She felt a small spray of the water hit her face. The water felt much more sensitive on the top of her head. She lifted up her hand barely reaching her head. Her hair was shaved and sutures wrapped around her head. Her eyes were wide open with shock. She jolted her head quickly when she heard voices. They were the first she had heard in a long time. “Who’s there?” Jeana said aloud. She coughed again and cleared her throat. There was no answer from anyone. Studying the room a little more revealed an eerie hospital setting. There were a few surgical tools out on a tray, some lights and other medical instruments here and there. There was also a mirror set into the prison like brick wall. She heard the voices talking discreetly again. Someone was watching her. “HEY!!!” She was agitated as she screamed hoping someone would answer her. Silence… Jeana knew someone was behind that mirror looking back at her. She gazed at the mirror desperately wanting to know who was behind all this mess. Jeana grew angry. The mirror began to shake violently, and then burst into pieces. Jeana gasped in shock. A loud, painful cry came from the other room. A tall man came running into the room with her. He had blood streaming down his face. She watched as he quickly searched through one of the drawers across the room. He frantically opened a package of gauze and used a pinch of the four-by-fours to grasp a rather large shard of glass and pull it out from his forehead. Jeana recognized the man as the doctor who gave her the injection. She watched him wince in pain as he pulled more glass from his face. She smirked slightly at the feeling of subtle justice.
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