Cloak & Laser: Episode I

Author's Note

This first chapter is the grittiest, so fair warning.

Sans Animo

The man opened his eyes.  Only his right eye would open.  It was blinded by bright whiteness.  His vision was blurry, and he struggled to roll over from his face down position.  The heat was excruciating, and it felt as though his entire back from head to toe was sunburned.  It was painful to move, and it took a few attempts to get onto his side.  He was in some kind of sand.  He rubbed his eyes, but it hurt to rub away the encrusted sand keeping his left eye closed.  The skin was raw, his lips were parched, and also crusted together.  Everything about him felt miserable and ached.

  It took him several attempts to squint his eyes just right to be able to see, and even then, everything wiggled and writhed in the rising waves of heat.  Every part of the white sand he touched where his body hadn't been lying, burnt his dry and sensitive skin.  He couldn't understand where he was, let alone how he had gotten there.  In fact, he couldn't remember anything prior to that moment.  To top it off, he was completely naked.  What the actual fuck?  He carefully rubbed his sunburned neck.  It was cricked from laying on his stomach for so long.  He managed to sit up and tried to brush away the incredibly fine sand, but found that it irritated his skin and he quickly gave up on it.

  Despite how thirsty he was, his first priority was to find shelter.  The pure white sand reflected the sun's rays, intensifying the heat.  He could already feel the symptoms of heat exhaustion.  He still struggled to see any landmarks of any kind, and he couldn't shake the thought that someone left him out here to die.  He looked up to see that the sun was at midday and his short, jet black hair tickled his eyelashes.  His sweat soon crept into his eye and it burned, forcing him to rub at it.  That was when he heard a strange noise.  It sounded distorted, but close enough to warrant investigation.  It coerced him to finally attempt to stand up.  The man felt a bit swimmy-headed and weak, but he was able to keep his feet underneath him.  He wobbled a bit as he looked around and could now see that he was surrounded by several dunes that looked more like hills.

  An ocean of mirage lay before him, reaching to the base of each hill in the distance.  It had a chrome-like shimmering effect.  He felt as though he couldn't squint hard enough.  The sound occurred again, only this time it was closer.  It sounded like guttural gurgling and it sent a chill up and down his spine.  He frantically searched for the source, but every way he looked, there was just the ocean of mirage.  His breathing became ragged and quickened.  He felt very vulnerable and defenseless.  The gurgling sound intensified, and in between those sounds, he could hear a dragging sound.  He could tell it was coming from in front of him now, but he still couldn't make it out.  It was a dark blob against the glistening sea of mirage.

  Before long there was a pause in the dragging sound and then he heard a spitting sound.  He held his breath as there was a moment of silence.  Next, a large blob of yellowish-green goop landed a couple of feet away, and some of it splashed onto his foot.  It immediately began to burn his foot like a weak acid.  "Mmmmm!"  He fell back onto his butt and hands and scrambled back away, not caring about the incredibly hot sand.  He was quickly motivated to get up and run, but his pace was painfully slow.  It was about as fast as a power walk.  It wasn't long before he was forced to open his lips, which cracked and bled, adding to his misery.  He couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve this.  His sweat crept into the new wounds, and the salt burned them further.  It was something new to focus on, other than the heat on his feet, the sunburn all over his backside, his cricked neck and upper back.  He would never wish this upon his worst enemy, whomever that may be.

  It wasn't long before he lost his balance due to diminished mental capacity, and he tripped over his own feet just as he reached the base of one of the hills.  This one had a particularly flat top to it and it was only about eight feet high.  The hot sand burned all of his skin, but he felt it on his penis the most.  He got to his hands and knees as fast as he could and looked back to see if it had gotten any closer.  Everything was still a blur, and his heavy breathing made it hard to focus.  His head drooped and he scrunched his eyes in frustration.  He looked up the hill and wondered if he had the strength to make it.  Every muscle ached, and this meant touching more of the hot sand.  It was all just too much.  A wave of existential dread washed over him, and the thought of collapsing and just giving up weighed heavily upon his conscience.

  Is this how it ends?  The gurgling got louder and it sent a chill throughout his entire body.  He let out a slight whimper and then a loud growl.  The tearing sensation flared in his tear ducts, but there were no tears.  The dry air burned his opened tear ducts.  He scrunched his eyes, not only from the pain, but he thrust his arms up and dug into the sand.  He could feel the fine, gritty sand embed into his nails.  It felt like pins and needles stabbing the sensitive flesh underneath.  He had to ignore the pain, putting every bit of effort into climbing the shallow hill.  It was just steep enough that it caused him to slip and lose his footing.

  He paused for a moment to catch his breath and wait for his muscles to stop aching.  The spitting sound occurred again, and he didn't hesitate climbing again.  This time he had more motivation, and he managed to begin ascending.  Splat!  The blob missed him by a few feet, but it landed on the hill next to him, and he scrambled harder to get out of range and on top of the hill.  He hoped, whatever this thing was, that it wouldn't be able to follow him up the hill.  Everything burned; the sun on his sunburned back, the heat and irritation of the sand, his muscles.  Is this what life is?  He couldn't imagine very many people surviving this world if that's the case.

  The man reached the crest of the hill with one hand and as it dug into the sand, he felt a smooth, cool surface.  It allowed his hand to grab it, and with that, he was able to pull himself over the crest.  Just in time to hear another splat, which couldn't have missed his feet by much.  He frantically got to his hands and knees and peered down the hill.  What he saw defied description.  The grotesque creature didn't seem to be attempting to climb the hill and he breathed a sigh of relief.  It looked somewhat like a wolf, only the head was nearly torn off and looked dead.  The gurgling came from the open esophagus, and he could see bubbles foaming to the top.  The legs of the wolf didn't seem to work, and its large intestine was coming out of its end like a hideous tentacle.  It flailed it toward him, but it was well short.  He wrinkled his nose, then his eyes widened as he saw it spit another yellowish-green blob.

 He had seen enough and turned to get further away.  His muscles burned with every inch of effort and he soon collapsed, which knocked the wind out of him.  He sobbed.  Still no tears would come, but they were dry tears of relief and sorrow.  He pounded his fist and heard a loud hollow thud which resonated.  His vision had not improved, but just a few feet in front of him, there was a strange squarish feature creating a small rise in the sand.  He exhaled, then took a deep breath as he tried to crawl toward it.  The pain was overwhelming and the heat penetrated every pore on his weather-beaten skin.  He managed to get a hand onto the small rise, then everything went black.

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