Ace of Jacks — Roleplayer Guild

Mason – Streets of Rapture — Himself

Water had filled his lungs. The exploration team he had been assigned on was dead; at least that’s the only logical assumption. The team he had joined were sent to find the undisclosed location directly, while others searched topside for clues as to the natural entryway into…well, where they were going, what they were finding was never told to Mason. He was just there to help out with maintenance. A simple task. The small expedition sub carried only a handful of people, many of which were scientist or smart people who obviously got more than a college degree. Of all those people, all those important individuals, Mason couldn’t help wonder why a loser like himself survived. If he survives, that is. As he lay on his side, Mason began to cough violently, water and saliva spewing out of his mouth. He took several long and deep gasps, trying to catch as much breath as he could. After several minutes, he was able to muster up an ounce of composure and strength to push his body up with his hands. He looked behind him, staring in disbelief at the airtight door that he had struggled to open. Just a few moments ago he was on the other side of that door; he was deep in the ocean, frantically trying to get the door to open. Before Mason could attempt to even stand on his feet a sudden rush of pain shot through his right arm. His arm gave out and he fell back onto the cold steel floor. He must have injured himself in the escape. Okay, he thought to himself, gotta go, gotta find out where I am… 

With some effort, he managed to rise to his feet, holding his right arm with his left in an effort to ease the pain. He stared forward at the second airlock and took in a deep breath before unlocking it. He could hear the gears turning as the door started to open up, revealing a dark room. He took a single step and immediately felt a chill run through his body. There’s death in this place. Not just the room, but the whole structure in its entirety. Something wasn’t right about this place, wherever the hell it is. Still, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. Mason continued through the room, not paying any attention to the multitude of oversized diving suits and helmets hanging on the walls. He reached a normal door and pushed it open, revealing something he was unprepared to see. It was a street. A dirty, filthy, rundown street. It bore an uncanny resemblance to some of the streets he’d see back home. But, he’s not home; he’s miles upon miles deep in the Atlantic Ocean. “Christ…” he uttered under his breath. As his mind was processing all he was seeing, Mason’s whole body froze, his heart pounding erratically in his chest. In the distance, there came a bone chilling groan that was now all too familiar to Mason. This was the noise he had heard before something, or someone, attacked their sub. 

“Ffffuck.”
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