ENTRY 157__844 - HUMAN SUBJECT CHARLES SNIPPY - PERSONAL ID 04477645.
The ground draws closer at a disconcerting rate as I crash from heaven with Pilot, and for a split second I perceive a silver glint below me, wondering what it could be. But time is elapsing far too quickly for my mind to process a single thought, other than the sustaining terror of dying within the next few seconds.
I close my eyes, awaiting my deadly collision with the ground - then my reality shatters into a thousand pictures exploding in my mind.
It all ends as I finally come to, regaining my senses.
I am alive...?
As I awake draped over a pile of debris, a surge of agonizing pain shoots through my chest, welcoming me back to reality.
I suck in a breath, but something clogs my throat and I burst into a painful coughing fit that leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. I gasp for air after somewhat recovering, and despite my burning throat I repress the urge to cough again.
Finally I dare to open my eyes and the unsettling sight makes my heart skip a beat.
Blood. There is so much blood, forming tiny, crimson rivers that trickle down the debris below me, and I watch them in their peaceful flow.
The visual seems to have a narcotizing effect on me, and a moment later I feel my mind sway, threatening to send me into another fast-pacing dream – but I won't allow that to happen. I simply can't.
Fire crackles all around me, and I suddenly hear menacing footsteps approaching. Did my coughing lead him to me? If Pilot survived the fall, he's probably out to kill me at first sight.
I can't allow him to find me. I have to get up, get away from this place. The clock in my head is ticking, telling me my time is running out.
With frantic efforts I try to lift myself from the ground, but the slightest movement causes the atrocious pain in my chest to intensify.
The footsteps are becoming louder, and in my growing panic I freak out, pushing myself from the wall, setting free another surge of excruciating pain. As I gaze through below me, I perceive a keen, flat bar of steel leading from between the debris up to my chest. A sword; Pilot's sword. How ironic that I fell straight into it; because my chest is just where he most wanted it to be.
With blurred vision I gaze at the crimson liquid between my fingers and realize that my inconsiderate attempt to get up is taking its toll on me now, causing the blood to gush from my wound at an even faster pace than before.
Eventually the nausea kicks in and my arms start feeling numb. Moments later I collapse back onto the ridge of concrete that holds the sword in place. Frustrated about my failure I grit my teeth, my body convulsing in pain.
Again I find myself watching the beautiful little crimson rivers flow down between the cracks of the rubble below me, as I begin to reflect on my situation. I'm pretty much stuck here; I can't even get up. But even if I could... my body is ruined, and judging by my symptoms I'm certain that there is no hope for me to survive this day.
As memories of my crew flood my mind, I begin to feel so terribly alone.
I don't want to go...
My clock is ticking towards the end, my pulse growing slower by the minute; and I wonder for how much longer I can go. Then I ask myself if it really still matters if Pilot finds me now. Probably not.
“Help!” I try to yell, but I all I can choke out is a broken caw.
It's almost funny how predictable it was as my futile attempt forces me into another coughing fit, leaving me convulsed on the broken wall, laboriously gasping for air.
I don't even know what got me into this stupid idea; but it seems that it wasn't all that futile after all.
“Snippy?” I hear a familiar voice call out, but I am unable to associate it.
The decreasing amount of blood in my veins makes my head spin and my limbs feel heavy. Through the rushing noise in my ears I hear the footsteps becoming even louder. By now I find it hard to maintain focus; my vision keeps blurring out, and for a moment I am unable to tell if I was perpetually awake.
The sudden weight of a hand on my shoulder wakes me back to reality and I try to scream in fright, but my throat won't let me. I convulse in fear, my heartbeat palpitating fiercely. Sheer panic has taken control over me, and my mind is screaming, telling me to run; but my body simply won't obey.
Pilot's voice – but it sounds strangely different than how I remember it, and I just can't figure out why.
“Shh... Don't be afraid,” he tells me in an oddly soothing tone, softly rubbing my shoulder.
I manage to somewhat calm down, trying to swallow my agitation.
“Relax... I got you.”
I stir as I feel a hand on my back, then Pilot begins to carefully joggle and pull on the blade; but it won't move. It hurts, and I want to tell him to stop, tell him it is no use; but then I woefully remember I am not able to.
I assume that Pilot won't give up just yet, and my anticipation proves itself true. Soon after his first one failed, he initiates a second attempt. This time he holds onto the blade and moves his other hand under me.
I don't know how he did it, but right below me the sword snaps in half and I tumble down from the wall. As I hit the ground, an unbearable agony surges through my chest, leaving me twisting and groaning in pain. It feels like something is choking me from the inside, taking my breath; and I fear that it will put me out for good this time.
I don't know what came over him in that moment, but suddenly Pilot kneels down beside me, descends his hand on my waist and slightly turns me to the side to ease my pain coming from the wound in my chest. With his other hand he softly elevates my head as I finally manage to stop coughing and regain my breath. Despite all the fire around us I shiver in his arms, feeling terribly cold.
I can't help but wonder why he's being so nice to me now – it is like a side of him I've never seen before.
Between my shallow, trembling breaths I move my lips and try to form words – seeking to grasp the meaning behind his sudden kindness towards me. But despite my perseverance, I am unable to speak.
“Shh... don't talk. It's okay, I understand...” he tells me calmly. “Does it hurt?”
I wonder if I should nod, but decide against it. Silently I look up at him and notice a glint of my mirror image reflecting in his aviator goggles.
Looking more closely I can see Pilot's green eyes, and I don't feel too surprised as I perceive an expression of worry in them; but it leaves me wondering if I really knew him before today.
If things would've turned out differently for me today, we could have been a great team, just like Captain always wanted; but I'm stricken by a sudden burst of sadness as I consider that we've spent most of our time fighting each other. That thought feels nearly crushing.
With the flow of my blood, my time is running out, and there's nothing Pilot could do to help me other than being there for me right now. Breathing laboriously I silently gulp back a sob, trying to swallow the pain.
“It's okay, my friend. Captain will be here soon. I won't let you go,” he comforts me. “I promise, I won't let you down; so please don't let me down now either.”
Hearing Pilot call me his friend astonishes me. Up to this moment I didn't believe I would ever get to hear this coming from him. I look at him longingly, trying to maintain focus; but I feel my consciousness slowly drifting away.
My increasing prostration tells me my time is up now, and I try my best to accept it; but can't help but feel bad about Pilot. I feel sorry for leaving him alone now, breaking the promise.
In my mind I tell him farewell as I feel my senses going numb, my vision a blurry mess of sizzling colors; and as my clock finishes its ultimate turn, my heart finally stops.