Entry tags:
15th Resurrection - Come Out Fighting
[Theo heard the explosions from his home last night, one after another. It was pretty clear what was happening. But he couldn't move from this bed. His body wasn't listening to what he told it to do. He remembered passing out in the factory, but not much after that. He had nightmares while asleep, calling back to his days of working in a factory as a child with his brother. That mad scientist did something to his destroyed hand - she replaced with a new one, and he was powerless to stop her. It was hastily sewn on, and wires protruded in and out from different spots. It was useless though, starting to itch and look sickly. Theo wondered whose hand it was originally.
Kay had never come home the other night either. Dragged off suddenly by the Soviet thugs, he assumes she was executed. Even when she said she completed her job with no problems, or so she said. He was sure they found another reason to kill her. She never come back, never resurrected.
No long after sunrise, after the drone wife roused him, Theo made it as far as the outside of his home. He sits against the stone, barely holding together. He wanted to fight, his mind was ready for it, but his body wouldn't comply. He had managed to dig up three cigarettes in all of Soviet Mayfield, and lit one now, using everything in his power to keep the match steady.
He awaited his fate, grinning wickedly. He couldn't wait to spit in the eye of the next Soviet thug who touched him.]
Kay had never come home the other night either. Dragged off suddenly by the Soviet thugs, he assumes she was executed. Even when she said she completed her job with no problems, or so she said. He was sure they found another reason to kill her. She never come back, never resurrected.
No long after sunrise, after the drone wife roused him, Theo made it as far as the outside of his home. He sits against the stone, barely holding together. He wanted to fight, his mind was ready for it, but his body wouldn't comply. He had managed to dig up three cigarettes in all of Soviet Mayfield, and lit one now, using everything in his power to keep the match steady.
He awaited his fate, grinning wickedly. He couldn't wait to spit in the eye of the next Soviet thug who touched him.]