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Fan Fiction

Posted By: GLADIATRRR3000<gladiatrrr3000@hotmail.com>
Date: 22 October 2005, 11:21 pm

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      He had long forgotten how many days he had been locked up. He estimated he had been there months; the ray of sunlight that came through the 3-inch wide window had changed its position in the room. He was still asleep, drugged to prevent any emotional or violent outbreak, dreaming his usual night terror. The drugs kept him relatively safe from himself, yet sometimes when a rookie doctor or intern gave him the wrong dosage of sedative he woke up with multiple scratches and blood stains all around his padded cell. He had spoken no more than 10 times since he had gotten here, and he had long forgotten the sound of his own voice. Why talk? he constantly asked himself. Every word I speak is thought to be a lie. He used to scream the truth whenever the flap at the bottom of the door opened, but realized many of the other insane patients scream the same thing while eating their own feces and proclaiming the Apocalypse is at hand.

      The beam of light had slowly worked its way across the room, and it crawled up his nose and over his eyelid. He was still for several seconds, then his eyebrow twitched. The beam of light continued over his head and onto the wall behind him.

      It was silent in the room.

      Suddenly, he woke up. Breathing hard, he jumped to his feet, scanning the room with quick glances. Without realizing it, his right hand caressed the huge scar on his care chest, while his left hand moved back and felt for the wall. It found its target, and the man leaned up against the padding, slowly falling to the ground. His breathing and pulse slowed, and his sweating stopped. He wiped his forehead with his arm, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "You're safe here… they're all dead." He muttered under his breath, hardly realizing he had said anything.

      A noise he had not heard in weeks floated into the room. Voices.

      "…have not found any reason to consider him safe!" The voices grew louder. "If you could hear the stories he told us the day we rescued him, you'd see that his mental stability is…"

      "As I have told you and your colleagues several dozen times, an entire military base and several thousand personnel were destroyed. As of this moment, this man is the only witness AND evidence we have. Insane or not, he saw SOMETHING goddamnit, and I'm sure you have ways of coaxing that out."

      The voices were familiar, yet he could not remember the names. The first voice was small and whiney; the man expected him to be middle-aged, unmarried, and small in height. The second voice was harsh and deep, filled with authority. He pictured an old man, old but in his prime, tall and strong with a rigid stature. He did not know how he knew this, yet was somehow comforted at remembering an old skill.

      The loud metallic noise of the lock opening filled the room, quickly dampened by the padding on the walls, ceiling, and floor. The first voice filled the room again. "I STRONGLY advise not opening that door now. Let me get some medical staff down here first. We can sedate him and…"

      "No." The second voice said, silencing the first voice. He could almost feel the hatred from the first man towards the second. "No sedating while I'm here. I want him awake, sharp. I want the man I know in that cell, not the man you made."

      "Fine." The first man said. "But if he attacks you, I'm not opening the door again."

      "You wouldn't need to."

      The door pushed open, flooding the room with a bright, white light that hurt the man's eyes. The man felt his adrenaline spike.

      "GOD! SAVE ME!" She yelled, brown, decayed arms grabbing her from behind.
      He dropped his gun grabbing onto her hands, trying to pull her back inside the torn metal door. But they're strong… so strong…

      His head hurt, his eyes were watery. He blinked a couple times, getting the water out of his eyes, then realized he was on his back in the middle of the room. He lifted his head up, looking at the opened door. A black figure stood above him.

      "You come at me again, I may forget I need you alive, Roberts."

      The man felt a sudden realization flood his mind, filled with the same satisfaction you get from figuring out a particularly hard math equation. "Roberts?" He asked the man. "My name is Roberts? My name is Roberts…" He started muttering under his breath, a single tear escaping his eye.

      "Yes, your name is Roberts. Now, since you're acting like a 4 year old who found out two and two makes for, I'm under the impression that you have either forgotten many things, or are blocking things out of your mind." He said, moving out of the light. The door shut behind him, the loud metallic lock closed. "Unfortunately for you, both of those assumptions would be bad for you. If you do NOT remember, if you do have BLOCKED things out of your mind, we have ways of getting information out of heads, and many of them would not be desirable to living people." He turned on his heel, walking to the other wall.

      "I have read your file. I know you took medication before the incident. I also know that you received top marks on almost every exam and were top of your class in every field exercise that we created." He reached the wall, spun on his heel, and slowly walked towards the other wall.

      "Now, I find myself in a dilemma. On one hand, an entire military base, filled with top of the line equipment, research, several thousand marines and scientists, and an entire planet, not to mention, was destroyed. On the other hand, we have a single survivor, who happens to be both extremely capable and extremely insane. Either he's lucky, or he caused the damn thing. Now, I want to get retribution for the base and personnel, and at the same time I want to punish the correct person." He reached the wall, spun on his heel, and walked towards the other wall.

      "Now, I suppose the question I'm asking and the question you're expecting me to ask are one and the same." As he passed Roberts on the floor, he stopped, turned towards him, and kneeled down so they were face to face. "Who. In the hell. Was responsible."

      Roberts felt his adrenaline spike.

      The ground was moving… no, it wasn't the ground. It was alive. Alive, yet at the same time, dead. So terrifying was the combination. So terrifying…

      He was pinned against the wall, a strong, muscular hand held him in place by the throat. A pistol was jabbed into his stomach. "Now, that's strike two. You are not making yourself look innocent. In fact, I'd go as far to say you look damn guilty. Now, I am going to let you go. If you so much as twitch towards me, I will put a bullet in your head so quickly your brain will still be trying to figure out what happened while it's covering the wall." Roberts felt the hand relax very slightly, then slide off his throat. The man backed off, putting the hand that was on Robert's throat onto the butt of his gun. When he reached the middle of the room, he stopped, yet kept the gun pointed directly at Robert's head.

      Roberts was still in the position that he had woken in, head leaning back against the wall, left arm tucked behind him, right arm crossed over his chest. Slowly, making sure the man wouldn't consider it a hostile gesture, he moved his arms and head so he'd be in a more comfortable position. He cleared his throat, and began a conversation for the first time that seemed in years. "D-do you want the long story? Or the short one?" He asked, voice weak from neglect.

      The man paused for a moment, then spoke. "Let's start with the short one and elaborate."

      Roberts thought for a second. "Please tell me your name. You're the first person I've seen in months."

      The man laughed. "You really are insane, aren't you?" He continued to smile for several seconds, then stopped. "You've been here for 2 weeks."

      Roberts felt a drooping feeling in his stomach, horrible realization. He paused for a moment. "And… and how long am I going to be here?"

      "Your entire life." The man said. Roberts fell to the floor, refusing to breathe. "Unless you help us out here. Now, we know that several Covenant dropships were on the planet, but they could have only contained 80 people altogether. That's no problem for Ceti Base. We also know that that Ceti's self-destructed. Now, only someone who knew the code could have done that, and you do not. That leaves many questions. Now." The man moved forward. "My name is Mason. General Mason. We have made our introductions. You know my name. I need to know what happened on that backwater planet."

      Roberts slowly got to his feet, legs shaking. "Well, what in the hell caused the destruction of Ceti?" Mason asked.

      Roberts laughed humorlessly. "Just that."