Post by Julian Morak on Sept 3, 2014 13:14:23 GMT
Julian's sleep was not pleasant. He had felt his head spinning and his mind become disorientated as he slipped into the depths of a dream that night. Unfortunately he never succumbed fully to the surreal images floating about his head. They always seemed to drift like feathers in the wind and he was never able to grasp them before they fell to the ground and disappeared through layers of distorted colour and forgotten thoughts. So he slept lightly.
As a result of this he awoke that morning still exhausted and fed up, with no recollection of ever falling asleep. And as the memory of his dreams faded into the land of reality, Julian was able to realise that he was no longer in his city apartment and had woken up in a darkened tunnel, surrounded by cold, hard concrete and a dim, distant glow of artificial light.
Stumbling he managed to reach out to the walls surrounding him; slowly lifting himself onto his feet. It was then that Julian became aware of a slight breeze entering the tunnel from behind him. He shot a glance down the concrete path from which it would appear he must travelled along to get here, only to discover that he was no where near the outside world. Julian sighed, rubbing sleep from his straining eyes, that could only make out the distant light in front of him.
Giving up on looking for fresh air, Julian made the decision to follow the source of that 'fake' light ahead of him. After five minutes of walking in a straight line it became apparent that the light was further away than he had previously anticipated. The whole journey seemed endless, actually. The closer the man got to the light, the further it seemed to be. Every time he thought he was just metres away from it, the light had moved again.
After an undecided amount of time wandering through the deserted tunnel, Julian finally arrived at what he had assumed was the source of this light. It was a single tubular lamp stretching a few metres across the ceiling. Once standing under the light, Julian realised the reason for his previous chill. He had arrived in this place with just a shirt and his boxers on. The whole scenario seemed queer to Julian and he couldn't quite make sense of it all. If someone wanted to kidnap him whilst he was sleeping, why bring him here? What use could he be to anyone in this place? Unless they robbed his flat and wanted him to be far away by the time they had finished. Maybe the Aeglectian Syndicate wanted to dispose of him as an asset? No. They wouldn't kidnap him. If they wanted him out of the way he would be lying dead on a slab in the morgue. And it couldn't have been a kidnapping because he didn't seem to have acquired any injuries of any sort. He didn't even have any bruising from being dragged around or thrown into the back of a car - and of course, the obvious point was that he had slept through it all, even though it had felt as though his sleep wasn't nearly deep enough to even count as rest, let alone stop him from noticing a break in.
These thoughts did nothing to calm the nerves of the young man; however, he was very well trained in the art of ignoring instinctive fear (it does come up often in the business, especially when carrying out potentially dangerous orders) and continued in the exploration of his surroundings.
Upon doing this he noticed two sets of ladders either side of the lamp, both accompanied by warning signs with large exclamation marks printed on them. Julian stepped towards one on his left to try and read the small print, but found that it was written in a script that from a distance looked to be English, but at closer inspection appeared to be something unfamiliar and strange. The words were almost dancing around on the page, unable to be read, or even conjured up into sounds.
Julian shrugged to himself, deciding which way to go. He couldn't exactly continue walking - he could be here for hours, and may never find the exit. But on the other hand, whatever these signs were trying to warn him of may be equally dangerous. But hell. Julian had never taken orders from signs, so he grabbed the first rung of the ladder and hoisted himself up, climbing at a fast pace in order to reach his destination, which he could now see was a kind of 'lid' about a dozen rungs above his head.
As a result of this he awoke that morning still exhausted and fed up, with no recollection of ever falling asleep. And as the memory of his dreams faded into the land of reality, Julian was able to realise that he was no longer in his city apartment and had woken up in a darkened tunnel, surrounded by cold, hard concrete and a dim, distant glow of artificial light.
Stumbling he managed to reach out to the walls surrounding him; slowly lifting himself onto his feet. It was then that Julian became aware of a slight breeze entering the tunnel from behind him. He shot a glance down the concrete path from which it would appear he must travelled along to get here, only to discover that he was no where near the outside world. Julian sighed, rubbing sleep from his straining eyes, that could only make out the distant light in front of him.
Giving up on looking for fresh air, Julian made the decision to follow the source of that 'fake' light ahead of him. After five minutes of walking in a straight line it became apparent that the light was further away than he had previously anticipated. The whole journey seemed endless, actually. The closer the man got to the light, the further it seemed to be. Every time he thought he was just metres away from it, the light had moved again.
After an undecided amount of time wandering through the deserted tunnel, Julian finally arrived at what he had assumed was the source of this light. It was a single tubular lamp stretching a few metres across the ceiling. Once standing under the light, Julian realised the reason for his previous chill. He had arrived in this place with just a shirt and his boxers on. The whole scenario seemed queer to Julian and he couldn't quite make sense of it all. If someone wanted to kidnap him whilst he was sleeping, why bring him here? What use could he be to anyone in this place? Unless they robbed his flat and wanted him to be far away by the time they had finished. Maybe the Aeglectian Syndicate wanted to dispose of him as an asset? No. They wouldn't kidnap him. If they wanted him out of the way he would be lying dead on a slab in the morgue. And it couldn't have been a kidnapping because he didn't seem to have acquired any injuries of any sort. He didn't even have any bruising from being dragged around or thrown into the back of a car - and of course, the obvious point was that he had slept through it all, even though it had felt as though his sleep wasn't nearly deep enough to even count as rest, let alone stop him from noticing a break in.
These thoughts did nothing to calm the nerves of the young man; however, he was very well trained in the art of ignoring instinctive fear (it does come up often in the business, especially when carrying out potentially dangerous orders) and continued in the exploration of his surroundings.
Upon doing this he noticed two sets of ladders either side of the lamp, both accompanied by warning signs with large exclamation marks printed on them. Julian stepped towards one on his left to try and read the small print, but found that it was written in a script that from a distance looked to be English, but at closer inspection appeared to be something unfamiliar and strange. The words were almost dancing around on the page, unable to be read, or even conjured up into sounds.
Julian shrugged to himself, deciding which way to go. He couldn't exactly continue walking - he could be here for hours, and may never find the exit. But on the other hand, whatever these signs were trying to warn him of may be equally dangerous. But hell. Julian had never taken orders from signs, so he grabbed the first rung of the ladder and hoisted himself up, climbing at a fast pace in order to reach his destination, which he could now see was a kind of 'lid' about a dozen rungs above his head.