If you glanced at the stream video post I made, you might have noticed that I mentioned a new project. This one can be filed under “brain why are you like this?” in some ways, though in others I definitely did it to myself.
The past couple weeks, I’ve been thumbing through old work–like, really, really old work, some of it dating back to high school. High school was a really, really long time ago at this point. All of it is objectively terrible and sometimes it’s nice to realize how much progression there’s been over the years, but conceptually some of them are really interesting. Lately I’ve been reflecting on how some ideas from those days that I started and discarded as beyond belief seem a lot less so now. That’s a little bit of a digression, but it does in part lead into what comes next.
I started writing something this past Tuesday, just to flex some muscles and see what happened. This is a lightly tweaked/edited of that first page and a half or so. I don’t fully have my arms around what this is going t o be, but after polling some roleplay buddies, I think I have an interesting direction to go in. We’ll see what happens. It could be something or it could be nothing. Either way, enjoy this little untitled slice of something inspired by old work that could become something very interesting (and probably pretty dark if I’m being honest).
I remember the rain and a strange sound before it happened, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what it was. It was just a sound and a strange light I caught from the corner of my eye.
Then entire world around me shuddered when that plane hit the ground.
I remember what came next mostly in fragments. Flashes. Broken pieces.
A lot of broken pieces.
The sound of my keys hitting the ground next to my foot. I don’t even remember if I’d locked the door or not. I just remember turning and seeing the fading and then growing glow and the smoke.
I didn’t think. I just ran.
Ran toward that glow and smoke like some instinct in me was screaming that I should.
The field where the plane had gone down was two blocks from the old house. I sprinted the entire way like the hounds of hell were after me.
The closer I got, the stronger the smell got—fuel, smoke, the smell of burning things set my common sense howling not to get closer, that this was dangerous, that this was deadly, that no one could have survived anything that smelled like this.
But something in me wouldn’t let me stop moving toward danger instead of away from it.
The plane’s wing had taken out part of the fence around the field, curling it like the lid of a can. I could still make out the lettering along the metal, pitted and ragged at one end where the wing had been wrenched from the plane’s fuselage.
Eden. It was an Eden Technology Group plane. A test plane.
It wouldn’t occur to me until later that it didn’t make sense that a test pilot would’ve been flying in the rain.
I remember the heat of the fire as I threw myself toward what was left of the plane, as if I was going to be able to do anything for whatever pilot had been flying the thing. It was barely recognizable for what it was and for weeks after—months, even—no one could quite believe that anyone had survived it.
I couldn’t even believe sometimes that anyone had survived it, and I was there.
The cockpit had separated from the main fuselage and it was laying on its side, the canopy torn away, or perhaps jettisoned at the last second before impact—it was hard to tell at a glance and I don’t remember the details. I just remember the taste of smoke and the sting in my eyes and at the back of my throat as I got close enough to see that was still someone in there, still strapped into the pilot’s seat.
Just one.
I remember the red helmet with the blue streak and the scrapes across it from I don’t even know what. I remember the shattered visor and a bloody face.
I remember one breath, two—and thinking that those breaths had stopped by the time I got to the cockpit, my hands scrabbling against a tattered flightsuit and buckles that burned my fingers as I tried to free the pilot. The fire was spreading, was getting close. I remember him taking one big gulp of air as I yanked the restraints free, but not any breaths in between.
I don’t even know if he was conscious as I hauled him out of the cockpit with strength I shouldn’t have had. Maybe he helped me. I don’t know.
We were three steps away when the fuel tanks exploded and sent us flying.
For a few minutes, everything went black.