Revision as of 19:05, 6 January 2010

Lowbie story

The year is 2510AD. The planet has become uninhabitable, a desolate wasteland of sorts, a great radioactive plain dominating the world.

There are survivors, there will always be survivors. Dotted around the world are massive super structures housing the remnants of humanity, each one unique, each one a “hive” for our kind.

The Base of the Hive, rich with the stench of waste, rising from the drains dotted down the “street”, a street consumed with darkness and haunted by silence except the squeaks of rats and other creatures.

Crumpled within one of the dark alleys lies a corpse, a corpse of a teenager, previously known as “Makk”. Time passes slowly in the endless darkness, the blood coagulates into a brown crust as the hours go by, until a blinding light pierces the “night” followed by a gentle whine.

A Women’s voice cut thru the whine “Scanning…”

The light passed down the alley until falling upon the corpse.

“Target found…”

The “thing” moved closer to its “target” until it was hovering above the corpse.

“Administrating revive please wait…”

A thin needle pierced the skin of the corpse injecting a stream of fluorescent green liquids.

Makk’s body began to tremble violently until he arched his back and taking a shuddering breath, he slumped back down opening his eyes to a blinding light burning his retinas. He raised his hands to block the light, failing as one hand barely blocked the light and the other hit him in the face.

The light began to dim and Makk’s eyes adjusted to see the smooth hovering form of a revive unit, specifically type .2.

The type .2 Makk always thought looked like a ball attached to two plates at either side. These “plates” were actually rotors that kept the machine in the air. And the “ball” was where it stored the revives, sterilization unit, the needle and of course the speakers.

“Revive complete…” “Thank you for using X-Corp…” “This revive was ordered and paid for by Lord Tyran.”

The type .2 slowly raised and lazily glided out of the alley, leaving Makk in darkness once again.

“Grah… I hate those bot’s” Makk picked up his left arm that hung lazily at his side and dropped it. There was a dull thud as it hit the side of the dumpster but there was no pain.

“well that’s bad…”

he continued to punch his arm a few times feeling nothing still. “Bugger”

he fumbled around the pouches in his jacket for his flash light and sticking it between his teeth as he searched for his radio and headset. He attaches his radio to his belt and plugs the head set into his ear, hearing the voices of the others around the hive.

He doesn’t bother speak but grabs his glasses that lie beside him done them, and remove the torch from his mouth.

He slowly pushes himself up and drunkenly walks out of the alley, hitting into a few walls in the process.

Reaching the “street” he looks both ways seeing a light emanating from the few type .2’s currently active in the area.

He begins to walk down the “street” glancing at the shack’s and passing a few odd lights here and there.

“anyone else awake yet?” he shouted weakly. “no? ok then” he whispered to himself.

“Good” he thought ”no-one to try kill the cripple” He glared at his arm willing it to work again, but continued on his journey after a minute of fuming.

THWAK He looked around wondering what the hell the sound was. When he suddenly caught a glimpse of an arrow sticking through his left arm.

”CMON!!! Damn it!” Knowing he’d be unable to win this fight with one arm and the attacker hidden, he bolted down one of the alleys, he stops, takes a deep breath and jumps into the open sewer.