30 days of HIIT (3/30)
Warrior Abs (3/30)
Counter Strike lvl1
Continuation Quest:
- 5 Minute Elbow Plank in One Go! - to wake up from unconsciousness (
2:02 - FAIL!)
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Story
Darkness. A suffocating, absolute dark. It's not the dark of a moonless night; it's the dark before creation, the void before the spark. Worse still, I feel nothing. No stone beneath my back, no chill wind on my face. Just…nothing. Panic starts to bubble, cold and acidic, threatening to drown me.
Then, voices. Those voices are my voice. How is that possible?
"What are we going to do with this old dog?" The words drip with a callousness I pray isn't truly mine.
A sharper tone cuts through. "Shut up! Know your limits! Show respect. Until yesterday you were eating his bread." There's a fierce protectiveness there, a loyalty I desperately hope I've earned.
"Sorry. I was wrong. But what was he doing on the walls alone? What if he doesn't wake up? He's been unconscious for days." Fear laced this voice, and a disturbing practicality.
The protector again. "He's breathing. He will wake up. I will be with him no matter what happens."
Another, harsher voice. "And what if he broke his spine? You're not going to stay with that cripple for the rest of your life, are you? Or if he hit his head and doesn't remember anything?"
"Shut up, asshole. I'll stick with him no matter what. The money is with me, the boys will get a daily wage, as long as there are dinars. And you are better off looking for a job, escorting a caravan or something, than talking for nothing."
"Yes, ma'am."
Tent. I smell the sharp, clean scent of herbs – chamomile and willow bark, the healer's art. I am in a tent. They are in a tent.
I strain, willing my eyes to open, my limbs to move. Nothing. I am a prisoner in my own flesh. I try to scream, to twitch, to offer the smallest sign of life, but the darkness holds me fast. Frustration, cold and bitter, settles in my stomach. I must wake. But how?
