Rita Mordio (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
overlimit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2012-05-14 11:23 pm
overlimit) wrote in damned_institute2012-05-14 11:23 pm
Entry tags:
Night 63: Morgue
Rita awakened with a gasp.
That sharp breath was promptly answered with an even sharper pain in her chest. As her awareness increased, she realized she felt similar aches and pains all over her body, along with a general chill. Wherever she was, it was freezing cold and pitch dark.
And to top it all off, she was naked. Someone was going to be in for a world of hurt for that.
A single blanket had been draped over her entire body, including her face. When she tried to pull herself up, she hit her head on a low metal ceiling and was forced to lay back down. Feeling around, there were similar metal walls all around her body. Like she was in a box, or...
What the hell happened? The last thing she remembered was fighting that brat in the arena. Was that... over? Rita groaned, a sound that echoed back to her in her metal tomb. Did she really lose to that obnoxious little runt? She was never going to live this down...
But that was supposed to be a duel to the death, and yet Rita was alive. But this... was this a coffin? And the 'blanket'... a burial cloth? Panic began to flood into her mind as a horrifying possibility occurred to her: she'd been buried alive after being erroneously declared dead.
Squirming around in her narrow prison, Rita began to kick and shove at the walls. The sound they made was a hollow one. Hollow. There was air on the other side! This was one situation where Rita was glad to be proven wrong. She just had to calm down and think rationally.
A few, more calculated kicks, and she found that she could make the floor slide and jerk beneath her. By repeating the motion, Rita soon felt air move over her feet. Whatever she was inside of, she'd opened it, if just by a crack. The movement was strange, though. Less like a box and more like a drawer. Rita pressed her less-injured arm against the ceiling and used that as leverage to push the drawer outward. Unfortunately, she only got so far as to expose her knees before another piercing pain shot through her chest, forcing her to stop.
Her injuries were severe. Rita had to take it slow if she didn’t want to aggravate them, as frustrating as that was.
That sharp breath was promptly answered with an even sharper pain in her chest. As her awareness increased, she realized she felt similar aches and pains all over her body, along with a general chill. Wherever she was, it was freezing cold and pitch dark.
And to top it all off, she was naked. Someone was going to be in for a world of hurt for that.
A single blanket had been draped over her entire body, including her face. When she tried to pull herself up, she hit her head on a low metal ceiling and was forced to lay back down. Feeling around, there were similar metal walls all around her body. Like she was in a box, or...
What the hell happened? The last thing she remembered was fighting that brat in the arena. Was that... over? Rita groaned, a sound that echoed back to her in her metal tomb. Did she really lose to that obnoxious little runt? She was never going to live this down...
But that was supposed to be a duel to the death, and yet Rita was alive. But this... was this a coffin? And the 'blanket'... a burial cloth? Panic began to flood into her mind as a horrifying possibility occurred to her: she'd been buried alive after being erroneously declared dead.
Squirming around in her narrow prison, Rita began to kick and shove at the walls. The sound they made was a hollow one. Hollow. There was air on the other side! This was one situation where Rita was glad to be proven wrong. She just had to calm down and think rationally.
A few, more calculated kicks, and she found that she could make the floor slide and jerk beneath her. By repeating the motion, Rita soon felt air move over her feet. Whatever she was inside of, she'd opened it, if just by a crack. The movement was strange, though. Less like a box and more like a drawer. Rita pressed her less-injured arm against the ceiling and used that as leverage to push the drawer outward. Unfortunately, she only got so far as to expose her knees before another piercing pain shot through her chest, forcing her to stop.
Her injuries were severe. Rita had to take it slow if she didn’t want to aggravate them, as frustrating as that was.