Post by eric on Mar 16, 2009 21:29:33 GMT -5
Cain laid out on the couch in a living-room, just resting for a bit. The scientists had been able to bring him back to life, a miracle to most people. In reality, it was a living hell. His body had been useless for a full day and a half, too weak to support any real movements. It had been three days; seventy four hours, forty-three minutes, and approximately thirteen seconds since he had been brought back. His body looked the same as before, albeit still a bit bruised in a few places, but that would fade within the night. But something was different, inside of him- the parents as he liked to call them, said they didn't do anything special to him. But still Cain could feel it, like an infection spreading through his body as he thought about the coming back.
The room was for the most part completely, utterly, disgustingly, white. The only color was the the grey machines, green scrubs, and the caked on, dried blood. The scientists and surgeons stood around an operating table, in the center was the limp body of the eraser known as Cain. His body had been patched together and bullets dragged out, fifteen of them all together and now there was only the large tube running down his throat, smaller tubes stuck into his arms, and ribs- even four wires were plugged into his skull.
A collective sigh came from the group when a beeping sounded from one of the machines, first it was slow, then it began to pick up the pace and then it was speeding on into a healthy rhythm that you could dance to, as was Cain's "normal" heart rate. A few moments later, the man's eyes snapped open and he sprung forward as if being pulled by some greater force. He franticly tore at the tube running through his throat, yanking it out and dragging up some fresh blood with it. Then he started feeling the wires in his head, gripping them tightly he ripped them out to reveal the needle-like part that was inside. Panting as a trickle of blood and saliva dripped from his open mouth, his eyes looked around the room with the eyes of a wild, frightened animal. A man in a pristine white lab coat stepped forward and rested his hand on Cain's back causing him to slightly flinch, but the man only smiled and said,
"Welcome back Cain."
The next two days were spent getting him back into living. Although since he was given the OK to return to the home quarters of the vigils who lived here. It was unusually quiet since his return, he was suspended for the rest of the week for starting that fight at the mall, although Cain had a sneaking notion that if he had killed at least one of the avians, Boss wouldn't have care about the fight. Speaking of which, the fight had been mostly a blur in the eraser's mind, just glimpses of carnage and bloodshed ran through his head while he slept.
But now Cain was left yet again alone to his thoughts, even though he'd rather not be. So he contented himself to laying out on the couch watching cartoons, as he ate a bowl of Capt'n Crunch..
The room was for the most part completely, utterly, disgustingly, white. The only color was the the grey machines, green scrubs, and the caked on, dried blood. The scientists and surgeons stood around an operating table, in the center was the limp body of the eraser known as Cain. His body had been patched together and bullets dragged out, fifteen of them all together and now there was only the large tube running down his throat, smaller tubes stuck into his arms, and ribs- even four wires were plugged into his skull.
A collective sigh came from the group when a beeping sounded from one of the machines, first it was slow, then it began to pick up the pace and then it was speeding on into a healthy rhythm that you could dance to, as was Cain's "normal" heart rate. A few moments later, the man's eyes snapped open and he sprung forward as if being pulled by some greater force. He franticly tore at the tube running through his throat, yanking it out and dragging up some fresh blood with it. Then he started feeling the wires in his head, gripping them tightly he ripped them out to reveal the needle-like part that was inside. Panting as a trickle of blood and saliva dripped from his open mouth, his eyes looked around the room with the eyes of a wild, frightened animal. A man in a pristine white lab coat stepped forward and rested his hand on Cain's back causing him to slightly flinch, but the man only smiled and said,
"Welcome back Cain."
The next two days were spent getting him back into living. Although since he was given the OK to return to the home quarters of the vigils who lived here. It was unusually quiet since his return, he was suspended for the rest of the week for starting that fight at the mall, although Cain had a sneaking notion that if he had killed at least one of the avians, Boss wouldn't have care about the fight. Speaking of which, the fight had been mostly a blur in the eraser's mind, just glimpses of carnage and bloodshed ran through his head while he slept.
But now Cain was left yet again alone to his thoughts, even though he'd rather not be. So he contented himself to laying out on the couch watching cartoons, as he ate a bowl of Capt'n Crunch..