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Wade Von Doom
It's a word, no a name. DOOM
- Joined
- Dec 8, 2018
- Location
- Where Shawshank Redemption is
Everything was a bit of a fog. Like waking up early in the morning after a long sleep. He had somewhat of a faint feeling and sense of things going out, but it was coming back to him slowly. The front of his body felt cold, while his back was hot, and his legs strangely wiggled side by side, colder than his chest. Wind blew past his ears and hair, and he could faintly hear the sounds of waves. Opening his eyes, everything was hazy, and the wind stung them, making it harder to see. He started noticing how his skin felt hardened, like moving an inch would crack it open. Trying again to open his eyes, he tried focusing on what was in front of him while keeping them slightly closed so the wind didn't hurt too badly. He was surrounded by sand, and half his body was in water, with the waves splashing up to his knees. While he couldn't see it, his eyes were bloodshot red, and his skin had dried up salt water all over.
Nothing seemed to hurt badly. He could move, but each muscle ached when he tried. No signs of something broken or dislodged. He managed to flip himself over so he was facing the sky, which had turned back to a bright blue with a few clouds. Off in the distance was the remains of the storm. His life-jacket was still locked onto his chest, and a couple feet away, some debris started washing up to shore. What exactly happened? Michael tried to recount events in his mind. He remembered at least he was stationed on a ship. The U.S.S........ 'State of Jeru.... Jer....' it started with Jer. He wanted to say Jersey, but he felt that was wrong. He was stationed as one of the engineers working down below in the engine room, keeping track of the batteries and machinery. Lieutenant was his rank. His commanding officer was..... Also blank. Did he remember his name?
Michael... Michael Williams.... Michael Bagley Willaims. Light brown hair, green eyes, slightly tanned skinned, only getting tanner the longer he stayed out on the beach, 6'2, 23 years of age. At least that information was there. Though his head pounded if he tried lifting his head upwards. Like blood rushing down if you've hung upside down too long. Did he remember how he ended up here? He knew the ship was trying to find its way around an oncoming storm, as it came out of nowhere, but it was believed the ship could make its way through it if careful. They were, they did all the necessary precautions. It was just a rogue wave, Michael believed. Hit them from the side, ship capsized, and if they didn't work fast, everyone was sure to drown. He helped out with trying to get everyone out of the lower levels, but the flooding was starting to get bad. He was one of the last few out before they closed all the hatches to keep the water from flooding the whole ship.
After that, they tried getting boats out.... Or did they?...... Maybe, it was hard to remember. He might actually be concussed, that's why his head hurt like crazy. He made a jump off the ship, he stayed connected to some other shipmates by tying their life jackets together. But since he couldn't see them, they obviously weren't around. They might've come undone. The details became harder to remember. The waves were big, and he was thrown around like a rag doll. It's amazing he was even breathing right now. Most of his memory was there, the details were simply foggy. Standing up though... That was a bit harder. He felt sick and dizzy. Crawling like a turtle sounded like the best idea at the moment, if only to keep his head against the sand. It wasn't comfortable, but moving it around made things worse.
Though, even moving upwards as he tried crawling lead to a small amount of vomit coming out. It was just acid too. His stomach was empty, and his throat burned intensely. He stopped moving, and just curled up into a ball. He'd wait it out. Or sleep over it.
Nothing seemed to hurt badly. He could move, but each muscle ached when he tried. No signs of something broken or dislodged. He managed to flip himself over so he was facing the sky, which had turned back to a bright blue with a few clouds. Off in the distance was the remains of the storm. His life-jacket was still locked onto his chest, and a couple feet away, some debris started washing up to shore. What exactly happened? Michael tried to recount events in his mind. He remembered at least he was stationed on a ship. The U.S.S........ 'State of Jeru.... Jer....' it started with Jer. He wanted to say Jersey, but he felt that was wrong. He was stationed as one of the engineers working down below in the engine room, keeping track of the batteries and machinery. Lieutenant was his rank. His commanding officer was..... Also blank. Did he remember his name?
Michael... Michael Williams.... Michael Bagley Willaims. Light brown hair, green eyes, slightly tanned skinned, only getting tanner the longer he stayed out on the beach, 6'2, 23 years of age. At least that information was there. Though his head pounded if he tried lifting his head upwards. Like blood rushing down if you've hung upside down too long. Did he remember how he ended up here? He knew the ship was trying to find its way around an oncoming storm, as it came out of nowhere, but it was believed the ship could make its way through it if careful. They were, they did all the necessary precautions. It was just a rogue wave, Michael believed. Hit them from the side, ship capsized, and if they didn't work fast, everyone was sure to drown. He helped out with trying to get everyone out of the lower levels, but the flooding was starting to get bad. He was one of the last few out before they closed all the hatches to keep the water from flooding the whole ship.
After that, they tried getting boats out.... Or did they?...... Maybe, it was hard to remember. He might actually be concussed, that's why his head hurt like crazy. He made a jump off the ship, he stayed connected to some other shipmates by tying their life jackets together. But since he couldn't see them, they obviously weren't around. They might've come undone. The details became harder to remember. The waves were big, and he was thrown around like a rag doll. It's amazing he was even breathing right now. Most of his memory was there, the details were simply foggy. Standing up though... That was a bit harder. He felt sick and dizzy. Crawling like a turtle sounded like the best idea at the moment, if only to keep his head against the sand. It wasn't comfortable, but moving it around made things worse.
Though, even moving upwards as he tried crawling lead to a small amount of vomit coming out. It was just acid too. His stomach was empty, and his throat burned intensely. He stopped moving, and just curled up into a ball. He'd wait it out. Or sleep over it.