survival, how to

survival, how to

Status: Finished

Genre: Science Fiction

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Science Fiction

Houses:

Summary

Just something fun I've put together. I hope you enjoy it. And I would enjoy feedback. I like to make jokes, and I enjoy end of the world scenarios. As well as fiction. This seems fun.
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Summary

Just something fun I've put together. I hope you enjoy it. And I would enjoy feedback. I like to make jokes, and I enjoy end of the world scenarios. As well as fiction. This seems fun.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Wake up

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 04, 2017

Reads: 53

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 04, 2017

A A A

A A A

Waking up in a dress, plugged into machines and baggies like some type of hung over robotic housewife, is disorienting. After a few compulsory groans and a minute or so of utter confusion I realized this is in fact a room, a few groans later I had landed on the more accurate “hospital room”. Further groaning and the finger rape of my “nurse summoning button” brought on the realization that it wasn’t a very good one either. The lack of beeps and fluid in my I.V. reinforced this grand epiphany, who the hell was running this place? Was I alone? Did I really need to be pushing this button so frantically? Oh well, no use lying around attempting to summon reluctant nurses. I guessed the first step was to find out if I had in fact, been paralyzed in whatever dumb accident put me here in the first place. I needed a plan, step one: pull out all these damn cords feeding me to these machines, my silent observers awaiting their turn to alert absent nurses to my failing health. Step two: get out of this room, kind of self explanatory, and find a steak and maybe some potatoes. Step three: only to occur once I have gorged myself on some burnt dead bovine flesh, find out what the hell happened and why I’m paying my taxes if none of these nurses can even respond to a damn button pushed a million and a half times providing not only slight agitation but a very healthy finger cramp. In the beginning, the first step was quite easy. This is going great I thought! Pull off the finger enclosure, peel off these sticky chest patches, and get this damn iv out of my arm. But then, like most things, it got very difficult. The catheter, a tube they insert into your “business” to drain urine whilst unconscious or otherwise. An absolutely fantastic tool for unconscious urination and the ilk, but downright terrifying when you’ve just woken up made a solid plan and suddenly realize you’re a bit stuck. I was left with three choices, A: Grab the catheter firmly, and yank the fucker out shouting obscenities and being generally badass. B: Pull the catheter out very gently and with a slow fluid motion so as to reduce pain. C: Patiently wait for the nurses to decide the button has in fact been pushed enough and any further depressions of said button would probably leave the pusher quite annoyed at the very least. After a very tedious minute of decision making, I chose A. Twenty minutes after my genius plan was put into action, I had finished squalling like a newborn and confirmed I was in fact, alone. Nobody, even a busy nurse could ignore that kind of racket. So after a quick inspection and confirmation that my penis did in fact exist in the plane of my groin, it was time to set step two into action. Step two, steak acquisition. Potatoes optional. If you’ve ever been to a ghost town in the off season, then your well aware of the silence that comes with a lack of life an chubby tourists with six kids each. You may also know that in these situations frequenting “ghost” ghost towns, your heart may or may not be as audible as said chubby tourists. Only while they ramble on about their deluxe RV and struggle to breath through another corn dog, your heart sounds like a war drum. A war drum for the smallest handicap able “one leg long” army marching to the blood fueling your life. Needless to say its an eerie sound, couple that with a self inflicted sore organ and an empty hospital confirming your lonely feeling and you’ll understand how I felt once step one completed. Not to mention the anger that came with the realization that not only had my button been in fact, useless. There probably wasn’t going to be any steak around here, someone’s going to get an earful once I find them and place this blame. But on I went, very determined to find something with which to muffle my stomachs shouts. Just because everyone else was on holiday doesn’t mean I cant find a damn vending machine and then figure out how to get some change. The answer was there all along, the cafeteria. Following the many arrows and cheesy “doctor” food cartoons I finally arrived. Much to my surprise, no sarcasm I was actually still denying that I was alone, it was empty. Except of course for the poor bastard who had been the step two for some other, probably very hungry, fellow. After adding some vomit to the large pile of discarded bones and organs I began to examine the dead fellow who was still mostly “there”. working quickly, and judging from the clean cuts and fork in the chest, my mind realized that no animal did this. The missing chunks were too clearly outlined, and cutlery was all but unheard of among rats. The shock was so great after finding this cannibal smorgasbord, that I almost didn’t have enough left to register the blow to the head. Though I did eventually find a bit more shock while waiting for the world to continue its transformation to black as I slipped once again, into unconsciousness.


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