From out of the frying pan and into the fucking fire. That’s what my life felt like these past six hours. I don’t know how else to express it, but what I just watched made me feel like shit.
It’s been years since I had my last panic attack. And if remembered correctly it never felt like this. Come on Cypher…breathe…just breathe.
The sudden intense pain I felt in my chest, was like a mole scrapping its teeth into my chest, burrowing deeper and deeper with each passing second. I heaved out, hoping the pain would repose, but the god damn mole just wouldn’t stop!
I opened my eye to a blackness, which was also corresponding to my cybernetic eye. I hated how both eyes worked in unison whenever a panic attack ensued.
I’d become so reliant on my cybernetics that even in a moment where I needed some reprieve, in the form of light, it didn’t come.
I understood that to ensure my nerve system wouldn’t damage itself from the polarising effects of my SMB, but shit…this wasn’t the time!
The blackness of my world began to fade and light slowly swirled into my eyes. As fast as the mist of microbes appeared in my eyesight, the faster they faded into obscurity as my vision returned.
Then I heard a grumbling noise above me. “Don’t you die in my fucking seat!” The cabbie grumbled, “I don’t get time to fill out sleazy ass paperwork because fools like you TORCHING yourself on Haze!”
Haze? This old bastard thinks I'm an addict, I thought bitterly. Must be my outfit...Asshole. “I’ve never Hazed in my life,” I growled, feeling flecks of saliva bubbling at the bottom of my throat.
“That’s what you all say!” He spat.
“Whatever...” I whispered.
I pushed myself up from the ground, feeling as if ten boulders were dragging me back down. As painful as it was, I finally got up after two minutes of struggling. Not like the cabbie’s driving was perfect anyway, which would’ve allowed me to rise sooner.
The soft callused feeling of the back seat, massaged my back, hamstrings and calves as I closed my eyes, feeling the cold wind passing through the steel frame of the cab, providing me with some form of peace.
Peace I was about to disrupt...again.
My Semantic Memory Board had shut down, giving me enough time to fight my panic attack. As my SMB clutched my brain, to remind me of its presence. I felt the tingling sensation stiffen for a second. A white dot pulsed into existence for my cybernetic eye, then spread across into a white line. Then my vision returned with my HUD, which my contact lens finally synced with.
The reflected light of a nearby skyscraper beamed through my window, drawing my attention. I turned left, trying to avoid it, only for me to squint from glass’ shimmer. I’ve never seen that building I thought, realising a monstrosity in the sky.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The Pyramid Skyscraper was triangular in design, and ten times in width compared to the rest. In terms of length, it was three times that and stuck out worst than a sore thumb, making everything around it seem paltry, like dust even.
I couldn’t say it was I was enamoured by the pyramid, but it did leave an impression on me, enough for me to momentarily forget about my troubles.
“Are you worried about The Crypt?” The cabbie asked. “You’re about to die in my back seat!”
“I’m not about to die.” I growled, “I’m just ill.”
“Boy…I’ve fought in the Second Continent War…you think I don’t know a panic attack when I see one? You need therapy and you need it immediately.”
I didn’t respond. Nor did I care to. The old man was right though. I needed therapy, but not now…NOT RIGHT NOW!
I pulled up the video, watched it again and took in everything I could whilst I squeezed the leather from the back seat squeeze each passing second.
Shin-Lee jumped back, only to receive two shots in the chest from what seemed to be Hooded men. A third man walked through the door, walking past the men and stepping over Shin-Lee. He made a right below the archway, which I then switched camera footage to the hallway. Then, he walked down the hallway, passing Shin-Lee and my bedroom, and made a right, heading into Hannah-Lee’s bedroom.
I swiped left, and watched as Hannah slept soundlessly in her room. I’d made sure that her bedroom was soundproof. The bastard walked into her room after searching, then scooped her up once he found her. Hannah held a tight grip on the puppy dog doll I bought her a few years. Charmin, her favourite doll. The bastard patted her on the back as if he were me.
I’ll kill you…you son of a bitch!
The bastard’s face was still unseen at this point, but that was until he walked back down the hallway. The light coming from the kitchen area beamed through the archway. He turned the corner, heading back into the hallway and I saw his face in full.
Black bottom jaw piece anyway. His white piercing eyes, with a short bob cut hairstyle, was the same as it was the last time I saw him back at his hideout. The only difference was. The bastard was smiling as if he’d won.
It was Akatani.
I switched back to the kitchen in the kitchen, watching as one of the men that shot her scooped her up then dropped her on his shoulder. They both headed to the door, then Akatani followed.
The piece of shit patted Hannah on the head, passing the kitchen counter, then opened his palm and placed it across the marble kitchen top.
I zoomed in, checking to see what it was. It was a data chip, rectangular which was coloured red and blue. After allowing the data chip to slide from his fingertips. Akatani stopped, held his face to the camera and gave a snivelling grin, then mouthed the words. “Don’t Worry, He said aloud. “…I’ll take good care of both them…for you.” Then, He walked through the door, as if the apartment was his.
The range of emotions I felt, drained me of what little energy I had, which was none after my scurry in The Waste. My wife and daughter were taken by this piece of shit!
This was more frightening than when I lay dying at the bottom of a ravine with hundreds of bullets swirling around me with half my body blown away
“I should’ve never left,” I whispered, feeling thousands of thoughts roil within my mind. “I should’ve never left!”
The cabbie eyed from his rearview mirror, looking at me with a questioning gaze. I knew he was ensuring I wasn’t going mad, and he was right to do so. I just spat words out, that meant nothing to him…after a panic attack.
It was futile though, trying to fight the panic attack as it continuously pounded at my chest. I breathed heavily, closing my eyes, trying my best to alleviate the stress of my situation, but it was like holding water in the palm of my hand, slipping through your fingers and the side of your hand.
“Warston’s Apartment Complex, Surlington Avenue.” I said aloud. The cabbie looked into the mirror once more and nodded, “aye aye…”