It had been three days since the encounter with the large sphere. Damian reached into his daily pack and pulled out a granola bar. Whoever it was that dropped of his food hadn't taken his souvenir. The firing mechanism was lying at his feet, pointed away from him. He picked it up, turning it over, inspecting it again. It looked like it might fit in the door, inside the largest hole. He'd waited to try, not knowing the consequences. But it was time to try and bust out at least, and he wasn't going to find any way out from the direction he'd come. He'd tried finding his way back to the room he'd woken up in. The way back to that whole sector was closed off.
He stood up and turned around. There was the door, rising up behind him. He grabbed the mechanism, flipped it around, and pushed it into the hole. Nothing happened.
"Well, that went well," he muttered. He tried taking it back out, and it was locked in place. He looked around, and then shrugged.
"Okay."
Damian ran down the hall, looking for another sphere. He knew what to expect now, at least. A medium sized one. He turned left and right, careful to keep a pattern so he wouldn't get lost. He turned the corner, and tripped over something traveling towards him. He rolled and got back to his feet just as the sphere fired at him. This sphere was smaller than the last one, about the size of a dog. He ducked, showered in sparks as it missed and hit the wall he was standing against. He started to run, hoping to escape around a bend but fell back down again. He rolled to the side as another burst flew at him. One shot skipped off his face mask, leaving a dent. He noticed something as he rolled. The sphere would not spray shots off randomly. It had to have clear, concise aim before it fired. He shoved himself up, then went on the offensive.
Damian ran left, then cut right just before the sphere fired. The sphere, in turn, readjusted. But Damian was already back to the other side. He reached it before it could fire and kicked it. It rolled along the ground and stuck a wall. The center shifted around towards him again, just in time for him to slam the butt of his gun down on it. The light inside slowly faded to black. Damian ripped out the firing mechanism and started walking back.
Hunter typed at breakneck pace, every so often reaching over to grab his coffee as he worked. The world may be ending, but coffee was still his number one priority. He sat back, sweating a little, then readjusted his glasses. Searching around, he found the folders he wanted. He splayed out their contents on the table next to him, poring over all of the variables. "Yes… definitely needed… and maybe a few… AHA!" he screamed, raising the paper into the air like a trophy. "A forest!" he exclaimed, jumping around. Then he sat back down, laughing softly to himself as he typed. They all thought he was mad, but he could save the world. He just knew it. He still remembered from all those years ago. He could still see the primal eyes, the wild looks. He could still hear the screams. He laughed softly to himself as he typed, alone. He could change it.
I'm stopping here for right now, but I'll be blogging the rest tomorrow most likely. You guys have to have a pic of Hunter, and I really don't feel like drawing one, so here's a picture of what you can imagine him like. Or not. Personally, I prefer to imagine all characters my own way. It's up to you.
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