Post by Leore on Apr 12, 2014 19:43:00 GMT
Alistair, in his usual get up - a clean, navy blue suit and neatly polished laceup shoes, with a 2450 edition frock coat; his favourite - strode toward the door of his comely condo home, in the sub-urban district of Lowell City. He had just moved here recently, due to his father's untimely death not but four years ago. Though, his new home had paled in comparison to what he was forced to live in prior to this luxurious elevation; a gift from his superiors in Central Command, for his diligence at the NSS Aurora these past few years.
He pulled a golden slate ID card from his wallet, and slid it into the door's built-in security system. The red light above it suddenly turned green, and he nodded to that, tapping it as the door slid open, and closed behind him. He slid the ID card back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket. As he tossed his keys on the counter, and hung him his coat, a low whirring sound could be heard in the confines of his home, and suddenly, the lights all turned on, and a familiar, synthetic voice echoed through the walls. "Welcome home, Alistair," the synthetic voice droned, "Did you enjoy your work cycle?" the synthetic voice had continued, in a calm, neutral tone. Alistair pursed his lips his together, rubbing his eyes. He then slogged over to the sofa, taking an exhaustive seat. Alistair paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, before speaking out. "It was a fine cycle, Percy," Alistair looked around him, nodding, "A fine cycle indeed. Though not much happened, in truth."
The sound of glass shattering could be heard from an audible distance. Alistair quickly awoke, rubbing his eyes in confusion. He pulled his right sleeve up, and looked at time on his silver, digital watch. It was 2:04 AM, exactly. I must have passed out... Alistair thought to himself, rising from the sofa, running a groggy hand through his hair, as he pulled off his suit jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the sofa. Percy was no longer online, and a faint flickering could be seen coming from his console on the wall. Someone was tampering with it! thought Alistair.
Alistair walked towards the hallway, looking for a weapon to defend himself with. Yet the man was never truly one for violence, and so he never thought to purchase a firearm, or anything like that. I suppose Captain Ember was right... Alistair remembered what mister Ember had told him. Even if didn't find violence too appealing, he had to defend himself for when such a time came. It's part of the job.
Alistair could hear footsteps coming from where he assumed the glass had been shattered. Alistair swallowed what pride had had, and urged himself forward, taking small steps at a time, and keeping to he walls. As he peered over the edge of the wall, he could see the barrel of a firearm, and with that, Alistair took a step back and put his hands above his head. "What is it you want?" Alistair inquired, "Is it money? Do you want money-..." Alistair was cut off, as the man edged himself over the corner, aiming the pistol at the man, before firing almost immediately. An audible gun shot was heard, as the bullet pierced through Alistair's lower abdomen.
Alistair froze in his position, his ears ringing. He suddenly felt pale, and sickly, as if something was jamming itself into his side. He slowly looked down, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, as he adjusted his hands upon the wound, blood pouring out of it slowly. It didn't go all the way through. He then started making whimsical groans and low grunts, before stumbling forward. The man shot again, this time, the bullet hitting his upper chest, as Alistair immediately fell to his knees, clearly in shock and not given enough time to react. The shooter walked toward Alistair, sending an ardent kick towards his chest, sending him on his back. As Alistair lay there, bleeding to death, the man shot again, and then dropped the gun, fleeing the scene. Alistair couldn't get a good look at him.
Forty-five minutes had passed before Alistair could barely feel his body. Yet he was alive, he was still breathing. He began to choke on his own blood, gasping for air. A shining light beamed into his eyes, as it grew brighter and brighter, and before he knew it, paramedics were hauling him onto a roller bed, onto an ambulance. He then passed out, and never woke up again. He was pronounced dead on arrival.
He pulled a golden slate ID card from his wallet, and slid it into the door's built-in security system. The red light above it suddenly turned green, and he nodded to that, tapping it as the door slid open, and closed behind him. He slid the ID card back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket. As he tossed his keys on the counter, and hung him his coat, a low whirring sound could be heard in the confines of his home, and suddenly, the lights all turned on, and a familiar, synthetic voice echoed through the walls. "Welcome home, Alistair," the synthetic voice droned, "Did you enjoy your work cycle?" the synthetic voice had continued, in a calm, neutral tone. Alistair pursed his lips his together, rubbing his eyes. He then slogged over to the sofa, taking an exhaustive seat. Alistair paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, before speaking out. "It was a fine cycle, Percy," Alistair looked around him, nodding, "A fine cycle indeed. Though not much happened, in truth."
The sound of glass shattering could be heard from an audible distance. Alistair quickly awoke, rubbing his eyes in confusion. He pulled his right sleeve up, and looked at time on his silver, digital watch. It was 2:04 AM, exactly. I must have passed out... Alistair thought to himself, rising from the sofa, running a groggy hand through his hair, as he pulled off his suit jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the sofa. Percy was no longer online, and a faint flickering could be seen coming from his console on the wall. Someone was tampering with it! thought Alistair.
Alistair walked towards the hallway, looking for a weapon to defend himself with. Yet the man was never truly one for violence, and so he never thought to purchase a firearm, or anything like that. I suppose Captain Ember was right... Alistair remembered what mister Ember had told him. Even if didn't find violence too appealing, he had to defend himself for when such a time came. It's part of the job.
Alistair could hear footsteps coming from where he assumed the glass had been shattered. Alistair swallowed what pride had had, and urged himself forward, taking small steps at a time, and keeping to he walls. As he peered over the edge of the wall, he could see the barrel of a firearm, and with that, Alistair took a step back and put his hands above his head. "What is it you want?" Alistair inquired, "Is it money? Do you want money-..." Alistair was cut off, as the man edged himself over the corner, aiming the pistol at the man, before firing almost immediately. An audible gun shot was heard, as the bullet pierced through Alistair's lower abdomen.
Alistair froze in his position, his ears ringing. He suddenly felt pale, and sickly, as if something was jamming itself into his side. He slowly looked down, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, as he adjusted his hands upon the wound, blood pouring out of it slowly. It didn't go all the way through. He then started making whimsical groans and low grunts, before stumbling forward. The man shot again, this time, the bullet hitting his upper chest, as Alistair immediately fell to his knees, clearly in shock and not given enough time to react. The shooter walked toward Alistair, sending an ardent kick towards his chest, sending him on his back. As Alistair lay there, bleeding to death, the man shot again, and then dropped the gun, fleeing the scene. Alistair couldn't get a good look at him.
Forty-five minutes had passed before Alistair could barely feel his body. Yet he was alive, he was still breathing. He began to choke on his own blood, gasping for air. A shining light beamed into his eyes, as it grew brighter and brighter, and before he knew it, paramedics were hauling him onto a roller bed, onto an ambulance. He then passed out, and never woke up again. He was pronounced dead on arrival.