Quiet...
Content...
If there were words that could describe what he was feeling, it was these. Similar to waking up under warm blankets on a cold winter's day or observing the stars on a clear night in the countryside. Beautiful and peaceful. Relaxing.
This was the best part of sleep. The rested, peaceful state of mind just before and after waking up... waking up?
A panicked, alarmed sensation rippled through him as his instincts suddenly screamed at him. He couldn't remember falling asleep, and there was a heavy, toxic smell in the air. Similar to burning plastics or paints. His skin and eyes burned as if he were being pepper-sprayed. Squeezing his eyes tighter did nothing.
'What's going on?! Fire?! Did I spill my drink on my PC or surge protector? FUCK!'
His body, curled up comfortably like a caterpillar in a cocoon, thrashed around violently before he panicked to his feet, looking around wildly for the source of the burning smell. Instead, he froze in fear.
'Where is this... Where am I?' Orion panicked, his heart racing.
This was not his room. There was no PC with a window shining down behind it. No familiar white walls and popcorn ceiling with his clothes thrown messily across the floor- his typical bad habit before falling asleep after drinking.
Still frozen in place, halfway between standing upright and sitting, his body was coiled and ready to spring into violent action. Orion turned his head slowly to observe his environment.
Sheet metal with bolts protruding and warped panels lined the walls. The ceiling was no different- a messy patchwork of small panels done like roofing on the interior instead of exterior, and a small wooden fan with all of its wiring exposed hung in the center of the room.
Amenities?
His plain gray bed sat in the right corner of the room. A dresser at the foot of the bed and two bookshelves side by side with bins on the left side. Three worn-out carpets. One where he stood now beside his bed, one by the bookshelf, and one in front of the dresser. It seemed spaced so that he could hop from one carpet to the next without his feet ever touching the cold, metallic floor.
And of course, nearly everything was covered with cobwebs and dust.
Exhaling slowly, Orion's gaze continued to dart around. 'Entrance, check. Barricaded? Windows... a tarp?'
There was a metallic door but it was barricaded at the end of the room with a rotten wooden plank. The left corner of the room next to him was caved in. Two gray, dingy tarps protected the room from outside elements while toxic air seeped in through the middle and edges. Accompanying it was an eerie, unsettling neon-green light.
'Am I in an abandoned building? I would've thought factory with all this metal but this furniture indicates...'
Orion's gaze flicked down to spot-check himself. Once again though, he was left in a state of shock.
'These aren't my fuckin' clothes- What the fuck?! This isn't my body!'
His skin, though still its usual light tone, had dirt smeared into it and his new hands had heavy calluses. His clothes looked straight out of a steampunk show- lots of belts, metal pins, leather straps.
Glancing back at the bed, he realized his height didn't feel right either but there was no mirror to check himself out. Orion studied his hands, arms, and clothing- was he still himself? He still felt like himself but there was no tangible recognition of his body, sensations, or emotions.
The only sound echoing through the room was scared breathing. The sound of his heart beating. White noise from stress and tunnel vision.
'Fuck... it hurts!'
Orion wheezed as the environment finally got to him. He knelt for a moment, spit dribbling from his mouth and snot from his nose. 'This feels like pepper spray training all over again, but worse! It won't stop. It won't go away!'
Minutes, maybe longer, passed with Orion stuck on one knee, attempting to control his breathing and break through the mental barrier accompanying this never-ending physical torture.
Strangely enough, his body and mind acclimated a lot quicker than expected.
'Thank god, it's fading! I'm lucky no one came in. I would've been royally fucked.' Orion's breathing calmed, blinking more regularly and naturally. 'It's still there, but at least it's bearable.'
'Please tell me this is just a messed-up nightmare... WAKE! UP!'
Though his hands shook and the cold fear cut through his heart, Orion quietly stepped over to the dresser.
'I slept in my boots?'
A random, quick thought.
'At least the floors don't creak or groan.'
Back in Orion's real home the slightest movement would've alerted everyone. Or... was this his real home? Everything felt weird and he kept having strange moments of recognition.
'There won't be anything in there except spare clothes and my diary- wait, how do I know that? I feel so certain...'
Why would a dresser only having clothes be strange not to think? Well, Orion kept tools in one of his drawers back on Earth. Measuring tape, different screwdriver types, calculator, gun- maybe he was just weird.
No, this was weird!
He opened it, and behold! Spare clothes and a small, plain brown diary. Nothing weird... but still unsettling.
'Alright, diary... I shouldn't have known that was there, but...' Orion's gaze snapped to the bookshelf. 'Why do I feel...'
The feeling of familiarity rippled through him again, easing his decision to quietly step over despite his nerves being on edge.
There were drawers at the bottom of these bookshelves. He rifled through them, eyeing everything with both curiosity and confusion.
Wrenches but only oddly shaped ones. An oversized, weird-looking gun, mechanical parts, strange washers...
A mirror!
He raised it and...
Was it a younger version of himself? Most likely a teenager. Shoulder-length, dark-brown and curly hair, a long crooked nose from fights or impacts, and rings around his eyes from poor life decisions.
Green eyes- did they flash purple? Nah, they were green. It was probably light fracturing weirdly.
Had he regressed? But to what point? He stared at his reflection, bewildered, before eyeing his body skeptically.
'Ain't no fuckin' way I'm young again! This is awesome!'
Orion's eyes briefly lit up before a wave of exhaustion washed over him and his entire body sagged.
'It's awesome to know, but... I feel like I just got out of the dentist's office. Dentist grinding at my teeth, making my gums bleed- and I'm not allowed to move! I can't leave! Need my teeth fixed... Everything burns!'
Another brief, random spurt of angry thoughts that linked his painful experiences together.
'Alright, alright. Focus up.' Orion shook his head. 'Panic and fear, then confusion, random thoughts, then anger- straighten out and get your head in the fucking game Orion!'
Finally, as his mind calmed, everything was silent. His heartbeat and breathing had settled for him to listen to his environment but his nerves were still on edge. A slight creak would make him twitch and freeze, but there was nothing else except for the gentle flap of the tarps.
With his eyes still fixated on the door, Orion carefully moved back toward the caved-in, tarped corner of the room. His fingers pried it back just enough so that when his eyes unglued themselves from the door, he could look out.
His expression became awed and frightened.
A gray fog, stained with green hues from alley windows, painted the street. Steam bellowed out of open pipes and whistled in thin streams from others. Some pipes dribbled liquids with colors of toxic varieties, and others- large enough for a grown man to walk in or atop- snaked and crisscrossed meters above the cobbled alley floor.
Leaning forward to peer down, Orion identified that he was in some kind of two-story building, with him at the top. But gazing up? His eyes widened in awe as these steampunk, Victorian-style buildings danced endlessly into the night sky, with bridges and housing connecting them together like cobwebs.
'Ah... Fuck?'
'I have no idea where I am anymore. I don't think this is...'
Orion's thoughts trailed off as he eyed the strange, neon-green liquid flickering and illuminating one of the bridges.
'Yeah, nope. I don't know'
Adrenaline pumped through him as he backed away from the curtain-like tarps, his body shaking once more. The room stretched and contracted, and Orion, recognizing what this was, forced himself to take deep and slow, albeit shaky, breaths.
'Calm down. Prioritize. No one can get in. The room is barricaded and you're on the second floor. You have time to plan, and there are weapons in the drawer.'
Gesturing with both arms to create an invisible path directly toward the bookshelf, eyes fixated on the drawer with the gun, he began to walk over.
Crack!
The sharp ping of glass fracturing and his balance being taken from him sent him tumbling forward with flailing arms. He regained his footing without falling completely and looked back to see a little broken vial.
'Son of a bitch- my heart! I can't tunnel-vision myself to stay calm. Look around...'
Orion clutched his chest, listening carefully for any rush of footsteps. None came and he exhaled with relief. He scanned the floor but it seemed only that singular vial littered the ground.
'The fuck. Really? And I stepped on it?'
Annoyed, he tentatively grabbed the strange gun and bullets and walked back to the bed. Changing his mind in a split second, he decided to just grab everything, including the diary and clothes, and laid it out to take inventory.
Orion frowned, staring at it all. 'Alright... Wrench can be a weapon, a screwdriver... This gun? It's a gun, but... why?'
The gun had an oversized barrel, fancy golden patterns, and a relatively small, angled grip, which forced you to curl your wrist a little too much to aim down the sight.
'I need to at least be able to know how to use this.'
It took only a moment to figure out it was just an oversized single-shot pistol.
'Why make a gun like this?'
He popped the release mechanism on the rear and a large round fell out like a sawed-off shotgun.
'So total, including the spares from the drawer, I have three rounds. Three life-saving rounds with this goofy-looking gun.'
Nodding to himself, he slid a round back in and placed it down. His gaze snapped to the door, listening intensely for a moment again, before back to the diary.
'Let's see what I've been writing-'
-----------------
Orion's parents were miners who alternated between the fissures along Chemtech Seams-crevasses where raw materials for Chemtech were extracted. Several months ago, they didn't return.
For better or worse, this world's Orion had been living in Emberflit Alley. It was an isolated spot in Entresol, near the second fissure that separated the lower Sump level from Entresol. That's why he often woke up to screams, fights, or shady meetups occurring just outside what used to be his corner window. It was also why faint echoes of screams flowed into his room like whispers in a haunted house.
The building had originally been abandoned and forgotten, likely due to its location in one of Entresol's darkest corners. Orion's family had claimed it as their home. It was far from the bustling life, and in such poor condition that no landlord would bother renting it out- but Orion was sure his parents made a deal with someone to keep the lights running.
He just couldn't figure out who.
Worse still, for some godforsaken reason, his parents had wanted another child which was why they moved here instead of staying in the Sump. Rent was too expensive anywhere else in Entresol.
But now they were gone.
Dead or missing? He didn't know. It was a common fate in the Undercity.
Other memories stirred in Orion's mind.
He was twelve when they moved to Entresol, and fifteen when they disappeared. He didn't have much from the slums except for what he stole as trinkets and the little diary he'd received as a birthday gift from his parents.
The gun, however...
According to his memories, he'd been doing small jobs outside of mining and nabbed it in the Black Lanes a year ago. Ignoring a parent's warning was what kids did best, and his dice had rolled well when he stole it during a moment of distraction at a merchant's stall.
Experienced folk went topside or to the Promenade level for work. The average joe stayed in Entresol. The Sump, particularly the Black Lanes, held the potential for more lucrative jobs but at far greater risk.
In short, Orion acted stupid and wanted to be tough. And luck happened to favor him. But why did he do it?
Because of the move. Sump kids didn't see him as one of their own anymore. He lived in Entresol now. Meanwhile, Entresol kids dismissed him as a Sump rat.
Ironic, considering the rivalry with topside, that there was still so much division among the poor. Yet as a result he was a loner. Acquaintances? Sure. Nothing more.
Thankfully, Orion had started to wise up- especially after his parents vanished- and stuck to the mines.
That was, until recently, when his desire to rise up, become something more, and find his parents... led him to terrible decisions.
---------------------
"Agh!"
Orion opened his eyes, sprawled out across his laid out items after collapsing forward onto his bed. His head screamed in pain after the onslaught of information. Glancing at the strange washers, which he now knew was money, Orion cursed aloud.
"Fuck! I'm broke! Alone and broke!"