Post by tsumao on Oct 14, 2008 21:58:18 GMT -5
Tired eyes looked up at an icy blue ceiling. Eyes that knew his family had already burned a funereal pyre in his name, to try and ease his restless spirit. But no peace would come to this man, who rasped heavily as he lay against the hard cold floor... His head was void of hair and his face wrinkled from burns. His body lay wrapped in white bandages and a single lonely leg lay against the ground, toes blackened from the cold.
Why had he been kept alive so long? He thought maybe the barbarians planned to eat him... or worse they had figured out his role in the bombings. Perhaps giving out his rank and job was his worst mistake, because instead of an honorable death he spent his days locked inside of a small cell barred with large icicles. Mao wondered if they could seriously hold anyone in, but barely able to move his broken body he hadn't tried to test its stability. He was kept alive through the miracles of water tribe healing techniques, and faced strange inquisitive questions weekly from a strange man.
They treated Mao better than he thought they should have, and he couldn't help but be thankful to them. But what bothered Mao was that they kept him alive and he had not been interrogated even once...
Mao summoned up the strength to sit up, staring at his reflection as his voice became raspier with the sudden activity. He could not help but be horrified every time he looked at his reflection, he felt along the painful blisters on his face and rested his other hand along the stub of what remained of his right leg. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and a strange sensation overcame him and caused him to jerk his head back. The cold tear created a searing pain down his cheek, as if someone had carved through it with a piece of ice.
Feeling tired, Mao let his head fall back to the ground and closed his eyes. Shortly after he fell asleep, emitting a loud raspy snore as he slumbered. He had a dream of the Commodore, sinking to the bottom of the sea and being frozen forever with the ruined command ship. A look of disappointment filled his eyes as Mao tried to free him from the block, and it took only a second for him to realize he himself was on fire...
Why had he been kept alive so long? He thought maybe the barbarians planned to eat him... or worse they had figured out his role in the bombings. Perhaps giving out his rank and job was his worst mistake, because instead of an honorable death he spent his days locked inside of a small cell barred with large icicles. Mao wondered if they could seriously hold anyone in, but barely able to move his broken body he hadn't tried to test its stability. He was kept alive through the miracles of water tribe healing techniques, and faced strange inquisitive questions weekly from a strange man.
They treated Mao better than he thought they should have, and he couldn't help but be thankful to them. But what bothered Mao was that they kept him alive and he had not been interrogated even once...
Mao summoned up the strength to sit up, staring at his reflection as his voice became raspier with the sudden activity. He could not help but be horrified every time he looked at his reflection, he felt along the painful blisters on his face and rested his other hand along the stub of what remained of his right leg. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and a strange sensation overcame him and caused him to jerk his head back. The cold tear created a searing pain down his cheek, as if someone had carved through it with a piece of ice.
Feeling tired, Mao let his head fall back to the ground and closed his eyes. Shortly after he fell asleep, emitting a loud raspy snore as he slumbered. He had a dream of the Commodore, sinking to the bottom of the sea and being frozen forever with the ruined command ship. A look of disappointment filled his eyes as Mao tried to free him from the block, and it took only a second for him to realize he himself was on fire...