Mark
How on earth did I end up in this situation?
This was a thought that would not go away. No matter how much he tried to think about how to escape from this predicament, that same question continued to resound around his skull. Realizing that resisting such a demand for reflection was futile, he indulged it.
The anxious guy had turned into a golem out of a fantasy novel and made rafts. He had gotten onto one of those rafts. He had climbed a ladder that wove itself out of rope from the rusting cruise liner. He had spent what ordinarily would have been a few real-time seconds admiring the clouds and the view, and upon turning around to ask where his acquaintances wanted to go, he found himself alone on the slanted deck of half a ship.
Not to pick that apart.
I did not analyse anyone. I had picked out some obvious pieces of information, but, I had almost flat out ignored them. That was unlike me! Perhaps it had to do with the girl with the scars.. She caught me looking her over and knew I'd seen them. That wasn't something she wanted people to know that was for sure, and I'd gone ahead and just.. pried without her consent.. I guess I feel guilty. Thats why I didn't really pay attention to the others. Perhaps if I had, I'd know where we were supposed to be going, and when I got separated from them I would have found my own way to them instead of waiting for them on deck.
..Should I feel guilty? If she didn't want people to know about them, perhaps she should have done a better job of hiding them. Alright, I shouldn't feel guilty. It was just the nervous look she gave me that made me feel like I'd done something wrong.. Either way, I shouldn't bring it up unless she does first. Pretend you didn't see them and that you don't see them. That would be a decent remedy.
...
How does that help me get out of here!?!
Right, so that explains why I didn't pay attention to anyone else particularly, and why I outright ignored the bad vibes even going here in the first place was giving off. Well I'll pay more attention next time. Doing something dangerous and out of character can't make me blind to obvious shadiness... I should probably avoid those girls from now on. And that guy. He's such a maroon..
Ha. Its a joke because his name is a colour.
Anyway. The main reason I'm here and the biggest question I have at the moment. I thought I'd slowed down time to admire the scenery. It turns out, I hadn't, and I'd just been staring into space slightly out of view of the others and they'd walked off without me, leaving me on the deck to wait for them to come back. That is the first time this has ever happened before in my life: usually it's the other way round, thats why I keep my watch on me! So what was I doing? I.. I don't know. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I'm drawing a blank.
...
Was there anything else that was weird that I did toda-
A realisation smacked him across the mouth. Earlier he had dropped his phone faster than lightning could cross a floor. He looked rather deeply at his left hand, as he remembered what it had done and finally pondered how it could have been possible. The bottom line: it couldn't. It required something akin to the supernatural for something like that to happen. He put his right hand to his mouth as he studied the other. His expression was as stoic as ever, but his eyes were wide.
...My power develops. I.. I could move as fast as I could think. It.. it drained me of energy, but I could move as fast as I could.. And it didn't drain my physical stamina.. so maybe the reason that I..
I had my left hand on my chin. Perhaps my power wouldn't let me 'slow down time' because it didn't want me to overexert my hand? Sure, that makes some form of sense I suppose.. but I don't know, I don't even know what's powering such an ability. Good lord, I have so many questions. Perhaps I coul-
Mark's train of thought was cut off. The floor underneath him, as angled as it was, was beginning to stir. Wanting to cement his own ability to control his power, he focused on using it to keep his balance. He did not realise the significance of the movement until it was too late.
The floor began to completely give way, with Mark on top of it. With time slowed down to a reasonable speed, the metal plates that were secure a second ago began to bend in on themselves by the power of some unknown force. The steel carcass creaked as it died a second time. He jumped off of the crumpling floor just in time to avoid having his foot sucked in and crushed. He was fearful to stop time completely, lest he lose his control and his life. He landed on the other side of the crevasse from the rafts, but he did not realise this yet, as the ship began to tip. Now, it was already at about 30 degrees, now where he was it was leveling out. He didn't know why, and he didn't know how, but the deck had bent itself almost completely out of shape. It stopped bending and the disturbance seemed to stop. He knew it wouldn't stay like this for long, so he took the risk, and stopped his world from spinning.
...it is going to fall sideways. If it has bent itself lengthways like that, then those are the only directions that it can go. If it was going any other direction, it would have by now. It will either crush the rafts, or it will fall away from them. Either way, this is bad. I have to run to the opposite end that it is going to fall on. I have to. And neither of those options is going to help me in any way. So what is the plan. What is the plan...
...
Well, at least I know that I've got control when I want it..
He snapped back real-time and stepped back to the other side of the deck: the crevasse was getting larger and the reverberations of the hull informed him of an incoming lurch. It fell forwards and to the right. The rafts were going to be crushed. Mark's instincts took over: as his footing slid to about 50 degrees, he didn't run back, but jumped forwards. He flew over the tear in the floor and landed just before the railing, which he fell against. Hard. It buckled under his momentum, and with all his willpower he leaned backwards enough so he could grab onto the side of the ship. With one arm keeping him from a watery grave, he gave himself a glance of where the rafts should be. And there they were; sailing away without him. He counted everyone that had come along, and he saw that a few of them were bleeding.
Well, it would seem this wasn't their intent at the very least.
...But they have left me here to get drenched or die.
With a rare flash of emotion, his face contorted with pain at the sudden betrayal. He felt hurt. He felt angry. He didn't want to end up dead having accomplished nothing. That one arm tried to pull him back up to the deck with enough speed to keep him from the water. It screamed in protest to the unreasonable demand, and now for the second time he ignored it. Just as it felt as though it would snap from the strain, it disappeared. It lifted him up with enough force to put him back on his feet, and as soon as he landed, he leaped across the deck. His legs cried out with the same threat of self destruction before they too bent to his will. Mark found himself on the other end of the rapidly falling ship, and he reached and grabbed for the railings which thankfully remained firm. He pulled himself to the other side of them as the metal below him reached an angle of 70 degrees. Beyond hope, a life-ring caught his eye off to his left, and standing up on the side of the ship, he ran to it and pulled it free from it's position in preparation for what may happen next. Placing it under his arm, and with a hand firmly on the railing, Mark watch as the side of the ship hit the water. The force of the impact hit him against his support. The railing broke free. Backwards he fell.
What had before been submerged was now exposed as a sharp and twisted mess of rust, and he was sliding right for it. He knew it would take more than a standard jump to clear such large mass, and the colour was beginning to fade from his vision. He doubted it was good for him to be using his new-found ability this much when it had only just developed. Regardless, he knew there was no other way he was going to survive. He had to escape the impending mutilation and death right before him. Mark breathed deeply. He and the waves almost stopped moving. His entire body declared that this act was impossible; that to even attempt it was foolishness; that he was seeking death and that there must be another way to save himself. The pain reached a threshold that he didn't know could even exist.
But his body relented. His legs swept beneath him and launched him over and into the water, where he landed in the life-ring.
He looked back at the wreck. A gigantic smile covered his face as he pumped a fist in exhilaration. Then he slumped back in the ring and let the tides carry him. He did not have enough mental energy to do anything else.