verb.
To fall back under pressure. To shrink back physically or emotionally.
noun.
The kickback of a gun upon firing.
•
It takes a stubborn mind to cling to their humanity when the world seeks to strip it away.
It takes a desperate soul to reach f...
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'I was always on your side, Barnes.'
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A breathless gasp echoed through the chamber. It was too bright, far too bright - too loud. The hiss of doors sliding back was familiar, but so very loud.
Her lungs ached, each rattling inhale sent a burning through her chest as she dared try and open her eyes again. It was still so bright, but intermittent, wavering, as though she were underwater looking up at the sky. Her skin prickled, burned, akin to the sensation of being in the grips of a fever, both too hot and too cold.
Something urged her forward, instinct, panic, she wasn't sure, but her heart was thudding in her ears, adrenaline rushed through her veins and all she wanted to do was run. That instinct didn't quite travel to her legs however, and she crashed to the ground with a heavy groan.
"Yajtza..." The low curse wheezed from her dry lips as she rolled onto her side, her own voice grating on her ears. There should have been people here, someone should have been there. She knew that much - the fog hanging over her mind was heavy, but she knew that someone should have been there.
"Zola." She groaned, her frantic mind recalling the layout of the room - what little of it she had glimpsed as she was dragged thrashing and kicking towards the chamber. She had been in that room before; she knew what else they kept there.
Forcing her eyes to open once more, she peered around the dark room, flinching as the bright flash of a warning light seared her retinas as it intermittently filled the space. What it was trying to warn her of, she couldn't tell. She couldn't remember what that light was for, but she remembered other things. Dragging herself over to the leg of a table, she used the edge to pull herself to her feet with a pained gasp and resolutely slammed her hand down on the palm scanner set before a dusty computer monitor. It took a moment for it to blink to life, a flash of green and a whirr indicating its response.
"Damn you Zola, wake up." She snarled breathlessly at the black screen, wincing as the light flashed again, the tensing motion making her stomach and balance lurch precariously.
"Good morning, Agent Ivanov."
"Vitals report. Now." She hissed in response to the tinny greeting that rattled from the computer, pressing her hand so forcefully to the scanner that she could feel her pulse in her fingertips.
"Heart rate 203 beats per minute, body temperature 34 degrees Celsius and rising, oxygen levels low. Diagnosis: Cryostasis shock."
"Who let me out? Who else is here?"
"This facility has been abandoned since 1992, a momentary power outage caused your cryostasis chamber to malfunction."
"Ninety two..." She breathed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as her vision wavered, forcing herself to breathe through it as she waited for the room to stop spinning before asking her next question. "Zola, what year is it?"
"The year is 2012, Agent Ivanov."
"Shit."
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