She opened her eyes and tried in vain to remember her dream, or even if there had been a dream. There was slight panic as she tried to remember where she was. There was mild panic as she failed in that task. There was full blown panic as she realized she was in a confined space very much the size and shape of a coffin. She beat at the dimly lit convex surface above her until her head cleared enough to recognize that she was panicking. With a deep inward breath and a momentous effort of will, she stopped moving and actually looked.
The space was indeed coffin shaped, but it wasn’t devoid of things. Several indicator lights flashed in rhythmic patterns. There were electrodes on her arms with wires that disappeared into clusters to either side. Most importantly of all, there was a red level labeled “Pull.” She pulled it.
She let out her held breath as the top of the convex lid slid away revealing utter darkness, but it was a wide open utter darkness. So it was a thousand times better than dimly lit claustrophobia. She sat up and was presented with a new sensation as the panic receded, she felt like shit. So much so that the motion of sitting up made her head spin and her stomach lurch. She leaned over the edge of the coffin thing and hurled. She choked and coughed until the slimy end of her stomach contents separated from her mouth to fall to the floor. She didn’t move until the room stopped spinning.
She winced as she pulled off the electrodes. Each making a quiet ‘POP’ that seemed to echo in the eerie stillness around her. She shivered as she clutched the sides of the coffin thing. Her joints creaked as she positioned herself to take a slow and somewhat painful step out. She tried to swallow, but the dry sandpaper of her throat refused to function. It was like all her tactile functions were coming online and none of them were reporting anything remotely pleasant. An unclad foot made contact with the cold tile floor and she managed to steady herself on shaky legs. She looked around still fighting a bout of nausea.
Nothing was truly visible. The dim glow from the coffin thing was the only source of light. If she squinted hard enough, she could barely make out the outline of a desk. Carefully and with shaky steps, she made her way slowly to the dark rectangle. Her hands found what indeed felt like a desk, complete with computer, notebooks, and judging by the size and sound of the thing she bumped into, an office chair. Relief surged through her cold aching muscles as she slumped down into the chair, her tail instinctively moving to the side as she sat. She wrapped her fingers around the appendage and ran her hand across the smooth surface to the tapered point. She didn’t remember having a tail. She didn’t remember anything come to think of it.
“Who am I?” She tried to say, mostly just to hear her own voice, but the sound that came out was a hoarse crackle that hurt her throat. She ran her fingers over her tail again before reaching up and grabbing her horns. Tel’ani. That was the word that came to mind. A race with purple skin, a long black tail, and black horns. The odd part was the utter lack of context. She had the information, but no memories to go with it. She clearly was Tel’ani, but she couldn’t remember being Tel’ani. It was a disturbing feeling that survival needs were more than willing to push away.
She lifted herself out of the chair and fumbled blindly for the wall. Looking primarily for a light switch. What she found was confusing. As if part of the wall had collapsed inward. She returned to the desk and by feel alone started searching that. The computer didn’t turn on when the button was pushed and nothing in any of the drawers felt like a flashlight. She started pulling out the drawers and bringing them to the dim light of the coffin-like thing. The top drawers were meticulously organised. Mostly pens, empty notebooks, and pads of sticky notes. The bottom drawer contained an off brand cola. How she knew it was “off brand” she wasn’t sure. Again there was no context. It tasted off, but how was she supposed to know if it was bad, her sense of taste was off, or if it was just because it was off brand? It burned going down and didn’t settle right in her stomach, but it helped with the dryness in her throat. She wasn't getting far with the search for a flashlight and so decided an attempt at cobbling something together would be the next task.
The coffin had several access panels. All of which required a screwdriver. The computer on the other hand was another matter. Pressing the wires of the red indicator LED for the power button to the sides of a coin battery produced a light that was next to nothing. In the pitch black of the room, it was practically a beacon. Best yet, it was portable. She briefly wondered how she knew there was a coin battery attached to the computer’s motherboard, but again survival was a higher priority. Making her way to the collapsed wall, she found that her guess had been right. The wall had indeed collapsed inward and the presence of dirt suggested she was underground.
The makeshift night light helped her locate an elevator, a staircase blocked by the previously discovered collapse, a breakroom of some sort, and a bathroom. The last of which she was eager to use even though the water in the toilet was gone. The breakroom fridge continued a putrid odor and two bottles of fizzy water. She clearly didn’t have a taste for the stuff, but wasn’t going to complain. The breakroom also contained a vending machine, openable by chair to the plexiglass over. Plexiglass might not shatter, but it can be knocked loose of its mounting.
Judging from the state of the stairwell, it looked like the first floor had partially collapsed downward. Something catastrophic had happened—an earthquake, perhaps. Whatever the cause, it had left her trapped in what seemed to be an underground level. She forced herself to stay calm and push away the growing dread. It was too soon to panic; first, she needed to confirm whether there was a way out.
Her spirits lifted when she discovered a half-buried locker in the collapsed rubble. After some effort, she managed to pry it open, revealing a small cache of tools and an oversized button-up shirt. She gave a satisfied nod as she pulled out a crowbar. None of the battery-powered devices worked, but the crowbar was exactly what she needed to force open the elevator doors.
She slipped the shirt over her bare shoulders, grateful for even the minimal protection against the chill. It wasn’t much, but it was better than wandering around naked. As she approached the elevator, her makeshift LED light flickered weakly, unable to illuminate much beyond the immediate area. Peering into the dark shaft, she confirmed the elevator car wasn’t at her level. Instead, it was stuck below, leaving the shaft open above her.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The cold bit into her skin, and she briefly wondered where she might find more clothing, particularly pants, before shifting focus back to her immediate task. With the crowbar in hand, she returned to the coffin-like pod she had awoken in. After some experimentation, she managed to pry off several access panels. That’s when she hit the jackpot: the pod was powered by several standard energy cells.
She hesitated for a moment before pulling out one of the cells, unsure if removing it would cause the pod’s light to die entirely. Thankfully, it didn’t. The cell continued to emit a faint glow, and she examined it closely. It was about the size of a 20 ounce soda bottle, with a flat side for handling and another side covered in output nodes. From what she could recall, each node delivered about twenty-four volts, and the whole unit could discharge up to 240 volts. She didn’t know how she knew what to do, but there was enough information in her head to work out how to line up five nodes to power a standard 120-volt appliance.
A grin crossed her face as she improvised a solution. Using the crowbar and some careful maneuvering, she dismantled a ceiling fixture and rigged it to the power cell. After a few nerve-wracking minutes of trying not to electrocute herself, she succeeded. The result was a portable ceiling light, though it wasn’t entirely practical—she had to hold the power cell steady while moving.
The light from her new lamp illuminated something she had previously missed. A nameplate stuck to her coffin-thing. “Corp. S. Yari.” She said, reading the bold letters. It was probably her name, but beyond the displaced feeling that Yari was a common first name, she felt nothing.
Returning to the elevator shaft, she assessed the situation again. The elevator car was below her, so she had access to the upper doors. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there should have been a ladder. Again, there was no context. Still, the network of pipes and beams might offer a way up if she could manage the climb without slipping.
She realized she couldn’t carry both the light and the crowbar while climbing. The crowbar was essential for prying open the doors above, so she needed a solution for lighting the way. Another quick sweep of the area turned up nothing useful—just plates, paper towels, and discarded cups. Then, inspiration struck: the vending machine in the breakroom.
At first, she considered cutting off the power cord from the machine, but then her eyes flicked upward, catching sight of the ceiling. A grin formed as she spotted the tangle of ethernet cables running between the computer equipment and the faux ceiling panels. With some effort and a bit of ingenuity, she could fashion a makeshift rope out of the cables, giving herself a fighting chance to climb the shaft with both hands free.
***
Darkness greeted her as she pushed the elevator door open. Standing on the beams was taking its toll on her already cold and sore feet. Carefully leaning back over the ledge, she pulled up the makeshift light. Halfway up, it flickered off, plunging her into an oppressive darkness that seemed to close in from all sides. She fought down the panic rising in her chest and focused on the task. Once the light was safely over the ledge, she pulled out her small LED. Handling the exposed power cell in the dark was dangerous—one wrong move and she might electrocute herself. Relief flooded her as the corridor lit up again, pushing back the shadows.
On one side of the hallway, she saw the blocked-off stairwell. The other direction led into a series of offices filled with empty cubicles, a breakroom, a bathroom, and a barred checkpoint. Sliding the gate open, she froze in place. “Um, hello?” she called hesitantly. Something moved just beyond the edge of her light. There was no response, only the sound of shuffling footsteps growing closer.
The figure came into view, and something about it felt profoundly wrong. It looked hornless, or at least it had been once. Now its skin was ashen and dry, stretched tight over its frame. Its hair was mostly gone, and its tattered clothes hung off its emaciated body like rags. Worst of all were the cuts and wounds covering its body—they weren’t bleeding. They had long since dried. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she stood there, frozen in place, her mind struggling to process the sight.
The creature stopped a few feet away, studying her with lifeless eyes. Then, without warning, its face split open from forehead to chin, emitting an ear-piercing scream before charging at her. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she let out an involuntary scream of her own. Acting on instinct, she slammed the gate shut just as the creature reached it. She fell back onto the floor, breathing heavily as the creature crashed into the bars, gnashing its teeth and clawing at the metal in a frenzy.
It was like something out of a nightmare. The creature’s head was grotesquely split, revealing rows of jagged teeth where there shouldn’t have been any. It was dead, or at least it should have been, yet here it was, thrashing violently. Her hands tightened around the crowbar as she tried to figure out what to do. She took a few swings at it, but hesitated to get too close. The creature didn’t seem intelligent, but it was dangerous.
Watching it thrash gave her a stupid, desperate idea. She clicked the latch open and bolted down the hallway. Against her better judgment, she glanced over her shoulder just in time to see the creature still stuck in the gate. She slowed to a stop, contemplating whether to go back and push the door open further, when the creature abruptly figured out how to squeeze through. Her heart sank as it resumed its charge, faster than before.
Without thinking, she launched herself into the elevator shaft, swinging to the other side of the door. The creature pursued her into the open shaft with reckless abandon, but quickly scrambled to grab hold of a horizontal bar. It wasn’t falling. She scrambled back into the hallway, grabbed the crowbar, and tried to think. How could she get it to fall? Before she could act, the creature’s head swiveled toward her, and it lunged at the doorway, catching hold with one hand.
She let out another involuntary scream and swung the crowbar at its bony fingers. The creature didn’t react to pain, but the force of her blows cracked its bones. It managed to grab the ledge with its other hand and lift its head, she swung in a blind panic, landing hit after hit until it finally lost its grip and fell. The sound of it hitting the elevator car below reverberated through the shaft.
Collapsing onto the floor, she sat there panting, her hands trembling. Those few minutes had been terrifying. What the hell was that? Moving the light to illuminate the shaft, she saw the creature below, still alive and scrambling weakly, though its hands appeared broken. She glanced at the open gate and wondered if there were more of those things lurking nearby.
Past the gate, the stairwell was clear of debris, though it was muddy and littered with chunks of rubble. She climbed the two flights carefully, her bare feet slipping occasionally on the damp steps. Daylight filtered through small holes in the collapsed building above, offering a faint promise of escape. She poked at one of the holes, loosening the debris until it widened enough for her to crawl through.
Pulling herself out into the open, she inhaled deeply, savoring her first breath of fresh air since waking up in the pod. She lay there for a while, panting and staring at the sky. Eventually, she stood and took in the view around her. The city lay in ruins, a hauntingly beautiful landscape of skeletal skyscrapers and overgrown streets. Towering buildings stood hollowed out, their glass shattered, with vines and trees growing through the cracks. Multi-level roadways hung precariously, chunks of concrete missing, their exposed rebar dangling like severed tendons.
Cars were scattered like discarded toys, rusted and overgrown with vegetation. The remnants of a clear poly dome that once covered the city were shattered, pieces of it embedded in buildings or lying broken on the ground. What few intact panels remained above had gathered dirt and sprouted patches of greenery, casting a strange, green-tinted light over parts of the city.
The sight was both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling, as though the world itself was trying to decide whether to welcome her or warn her. Her moment of reflection was shattered by a distant gunshot echoing across the ruins, a stark reminder that she was not alone in this desolate world.