#loosley based off a 9-1-1 episode

[mcclangst]

Shell

[Told in Lance’s POV]

I suppose it was just an accident.

A weird turn of events.

Keith’s son playing around with mine on the floor of my house. Just kid stuff. Keith had said something to me... I can’t remember. But I know that his son stole a rubber band from his father’s wrist.

“Careful.” Keith warned, looking at the boys for a moment before turning back to me. He smiled and continued. “I really think this business is going to take off, Lance. For once I’m actually... doing something with my life— uh not to say that my boy isn’t my life-“

I chuckled. “I get it man. Good for you! I’m really glad you’re getting out there and taking what’s yours.”

My son said something like, “Pow!” And not even a second later, something hit the back of my neck. It was sharp and powerful, came with a fast WHACK sound.

And then I was on the floor.

My neck stung a bit, and Keith yelled at me, screaming my name. I tried to get up, tell him that I was fine but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even look around. My vision fixated on the distant love-seat couch in front of me and anything that crossed my vision. My son kept screaming at me, shaking me. It was the most awful sound I’d ever heard. His distress was deafening, and I didn’t want him to be scared.

I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t hold my boy, it was agony. I tried talking, moving anything I could but then I heard Keith calling 9-1-1.

“Yes- my friend he- oh god our sons were playing around and a rubber band hit him and he- he’s on the floor and he’s not moving! I don’t know if he’s breathing-“ Keith was in a panic.

I couldn’t see, but I think my wife came from the office to take the boys to another room.

I think they talked him through taking my vitals. He rolled me over and I couldn’t really feel it. I felt the pressure but I didn’t feel the heat of his hands or the scruffiness if the carpet below. He put his ear to my chest and came up with a look of dispair and said “I don’t hear anything... oh god, is he dead?”

He called my wife into the room and I heard her wail. I tried to talk to her, ‘no I’m okay. I’m right here why can’t you hear me?’

She collapsed onto my body and started crying, while Keith sat against the couch with his head in his hands. ‘Why are you crying? I’m right here!’

A few minutes later, the police came in, took away my wife and took my vitals again. Keith looked at me with tears in his eyes and shook his head when they asked him if I had any medical history.

I could vaguely feel them putting me in a body bag and then watched in horror as they zipped me up. ‘No! I’m still here! I’m still alive!’

My eyes... I think they hurt. I can’t tell. There’s definitely some sort of weird feeling, probably because I can’t even blink. It’s dark for a long time and all I have are my thoughts. My vicious thoughts.

I read somewhere that your brain activity can keep going for a while after you die. Even if you’re decapitated. This must be what’s happening to me. But why I am I still here then?

When I finally was introduced to the light again, it was a place I’d never been before. Suddenly a loud burst of music started playing and I couldn’t flinch but I wanted to. It feels so.... uncomfortable not being in control.

‘Hello?’

Of course nobody answered. Nobody can hear me.

Someone’s head cane into view. They wore a mask and goggles. Strange. I must be in a hospital. They bobbed their head to the music and took out a marker. Again I could feel pressure on my chest but no sensation of being drawn on.

It was faint coupled with the music, but I definitely heard a high pitched whir coming from my right. I was terrified. The head came back into view and raised an arm with a saw in hand. ‘STOP! DONT CUT ME OPEN! IM NOT DEAD!’ I cried.

The person only lowered the saw down on me. ‘PLEASE! IM NOT DEAD! DONT DO THIS IM-‘

Then heavy pressure.

The pitch changed and I felt so much agony I couldn’t express—

Darkness.