http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300012365
History as it were.
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The dreams had returned, it had been about a week since he'd once again found himself drowning, choking on the black tar-like substance that surrounded his entire body. He had found himself in alley-ways and dark corners of the old city chasing whispers and voices that remained body-less. Blurred images and scattered fragments of eventsm dreams and memories seemed like the scattered ashes of a body strewn across his mind. More times then they could count his cries would wake her and even the others on the ship as he tried to fight the goo. They'd even found him wandering the ship in a comatose like state, whispering inaudible things and speaking nonsense.
It was this evening that things changed, he sat within the tea house he always went, and sipped lightly at the green tea. The restaurant was empty and the weather outside was drizzly and grey. He rubbed his eyes and sighed aloud as he leaned back into the chair, his coat draped across the back of it. His mind felt cleaved in two, he couldn't place what had been happening to him, these strange thoughts that seemed to stockpile in his head, but scatter when he tried to collect them. He breathed in deeply to the aroma of the tea in front of him and opened his eyes, he surveyed the room around him and his eyes caught a strange crack in the wall.
He stared at it for a while before he noticed it seemed to almost pulse, considering how often he came to this place, he was surprised by it's pressence, getting to his feet he moved towards the wall and stared into it. It looked familiar, this strange dark pulsing hole in the wall, and he raised a hand to it. Peeling away at it slowly, the wall paper ripped a little and some of the plaster from the wall fell to the ground - and then more - the crack began to grow and the wall started to crumble, the cracks extended outwards from their origin, like twisting roots that crawled across all the walls and the cieling, he could only watch transfixed on the growing lines that began to widen. The veins in the cieling seemed to swell and within a moment burst - spots across the room exploded as the goo poured out of ceiling and the walls - immediately the floor was covered and tried to move towards the door - something gripped his leg.
He stared down to the shallow goo that was slowly rising, it was ankle deep and covering the floor of the room, but to his own horror an arm covered in the black substance emerged and gripped his leg, he shook violently and began to kick at it as he looked around the room and took in some more detail - the roof was completely black, and was oozing down the walls, every surface that had changed to the syrupy tar now writhed and moved on its own as shaking and shivering bodies and limbs moved within the confines of the liquid. More and more arms emerged and sought to hold him down, each and every one of them slowing his movement, his panicked and desperately searched the room, his eyes fell upon the window and he did his best to move towards it. Now knee-deep in the tar his fingers slipped over the cracks and edges of the window trying desperately to budge it or open it, he yelled at it and banged on the window uselessly as the tar ozzed down over the wall covering it, he slammed his fists into the muck over and over and froze as he sensed something behind him.
Turning towards the center of the room, he froze - a torso seemed to sit more elevated then the rest, it's body hunched forward on it's knees, slowly the back arched and a head emerged from the viscous liquid surrounding him and filling the room. He watched as the goo seemed to peel from it's face and the black details of it bearly came into sight. Vague outlines of lips and a nose, no hair was present but the liquid hadn't left the top of it's head. The goo dripped off it's face and outlined a brow- underneath it, the dark liquid stained skin spread and yielded two milky white eyes without pupils, it's mouth opened to an unhuman size and it screeched loudly, so loudly he covered his ears with his hands and grit his teeth. More arms and bodies emerged from the room as the figures reached out and grabbed him, the thick tar staining his white shirt as a wall of bodies seemed to grow out of the muck now up to his waist, more and more of the blank faced screeching things reached out to him and soon he felt him self forced under. Kicking and screaming against a dead mass of thick liquid and bodies pressed against him, on top of him, weighing him down beneath the surface. He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but eventually he screamed and when his mouth opened the oil flooded in, filling his lungs.
He screamed out loud, his hands clasped to the side of his head, and in the same moments he'd found himself buried he found himself on his knees in the dirt, a dark wasteland around him, the ruins of a city that once was, the broken and decayed world around him causing sharp pains to run through his mind - he'd been jacked in, he'd been in the matrix. His breathing was heavy and he collapsed into the dirt, his fingers clawing at the ground beneath him, he ripped up part of his sleave as he gasped with his head against the ground and his eyes fixated on the plugs in his arm. He shivered on the ground as he rolled onto his back, coughing and spluttering, his body trying to force the goo from his lungs that wasn't there. His head seemed to pound as he was sure it filled with a humming that almost caused his eyes to go back into his head, he forced his head upwards and grunted as he looked above him to see a hovercraft descending slowly. Every moment he lay there was agony and all he could do was watch as the ship landed and the ramp came down, the light from inside the craft seemed to singe his retinas as he closed his eyes and tried desperately to make them focus. Two people descended the ramp of the hovercraft, he could only make out their outlines as he tried to move.
He felt himself being grabbed and dragged up the ramp and felt his fingers bouncing along the metal ramp as he tried desperately to stop his movement, to regain control, the people dragging him passed words he could bearly undestand as he passed out.
"Think he's still going to be any use to us?"
"We'll see what Marble thinks."
....

