Rated FR21
The flash of pain spread across my head like a bolt of lightning, hot and stinging. My mouth was so dry it was like sand paper, I swallowed, then came the uncontrollable urge to be sick. I held it in as best I could but you know what they say 'you cant hold what's not in your hand'.
"Damn you Jagermeister..."
After wiping my mouth and flushing the toilet I gave a quick scan of my surroundings, I was in a small carpetless room with cream wall's, 7ft metal frame bed complete with a thin green plastic mattress and one small barred window letting in light that was making my headache increase 7 fold. I knew exactly where I was after all this isn't been the first time I'v been in here, nope and it's probably not going to be the last ether. This time however I cant quite remember how I came to be in the cell at the back of the guardroom.
I walked over to the sink to wash my face, my head pounding with each step. The ice-cold water I splashed on to my face was a shock but I found it refreshing and it cleared some of the fuzziness in my head. I lifted my head slightly to take a look in the mirror that was placed above the sink.
"Aw for fuc..."
Circling round my left eye and reaching up to the side of my head almost touching my short dark brown hair was spectacular blue's and purples. I reached up with my hand touching the mark, the skin burned under my touch. That would be the reason I'm stuck in this box then. I knew I was going to hang for this, my smart mouth had already got me put on a six month bender, this black eye was just something else SSgt Burns was going to bounce my arse across the drill square come Monday.
I walked over to the solid looking dark green door to see if I could get hold of one of the guards and maybe shed some light on last night's events. looking out the small window gap in the door was an empty looking corridor, the lights where off but there was light streaming through the windows that lined it. I had the urge to check the time on my mobile phone before realizing they had probably took it off me along with my wallet and the laces in my trainers before they shut me in here.
"Um hello? any one there?"
Nothing. not even a shuffle. "Hey?"
Sh!t. I gave the cell door a kick in frustration, it gave a creak and juddered open. Uh ok that was not supposed to happen, looks like who ever's duty NCO this weekend is going to get bounced along the drill square along with me. That at least made me fell a bit better.
After fully opening the door I made my way to the rest room, I mean why not? Its not like I can get in any more trouble than I already am. I stuck my head round the corner expecting to get a full bollocking of some Cpl in an uber bad mood after being told he was working the weekend, but all I got was silence. Empty! OK that's not normal the guardroom needs to be manned 24/7. Was there some type of scale A parade and every one just forgot about the drunken Scotsman left in the cell? not likely.
Anyway screw this, if nobody's keeping me here then I'm not staying of my own accord. I walked over to the main desk ruffling through the shelf's looking for my phone and wallet but I only found my Nike trainers that I quickly slipped on. I expect they had locked my other stuff in the safe at the end of the room. Crap, I hate not having my phone on me , I'll just have to come back for it later.
As I was about to make my way towards the exit there was some thing that made me pause, I knew what the metallic smell was but it didn't make any sense why I could smell it here. Then I seen it. My stomach did a little flip as I seen the morning light reflect off the puddle that lay just to the right of the rifle rack. Normally blood does not affect me like that but a bottle of Jagermeister on a Saturday night means funny smells on the Sunday are never going to sit well, no matter how used to it you are.
This whole thing was creepy as fuc. With the guardroom totally empty and a large puddle of blood at the front of the room it was starting to make me feel worried. Mack, I had to find Mack I was out with him last night, if anybody knew what the hell went down last night it would be that big ginger fool. Trying not to look at it I stepped over the blood and made my way out the door.
During my walk of shame from the guardroom to the accommodation block I rounded the scoff house, the whole place reeked of death, but that's not unusual. If the there's one thing that can be said about chef's in the British Army its that there not exactly gourmet.
I made it in to Waterloo block where both my and Mack's rooms are, half way down the foyer headed to the stairs stood a male in jeans and what looked like a Manchester United top. My first thought was that this boy was clearly drunk. He was a lot taller than me, a lot bulkier than me and had sandy blond hair. I thought his name was Woody, one of the Radio Ops from B Troop, I didn't know him that well he was in a different troop and he was pretty new.
"Excuse me mate do you know if there was a parade or something today?"
Nothing. He just stood there with his back towards me swaying side to side as if his night out hadn't finished yet.
"Yes? No? phone a friend?"
Woody slowly spun round and I almost boked right in his face. Hist left eye was dangling from its socket with blood and frothy yellow pus running from it down his left cheek. His right cheek had a jagged tare in it that reached all the way to his ear. his teeth almost black with blood stuck out the right side of his face like some evil grin. his eye's looked like they had rolled to the back of his head. Is face was a horrific mess.
"Alak Alakaarrrr" he chocked out.
"holy sh!t, what happened to your face? where you in the guardroom? you need to go to the Med Center?"
That was when he grabbed me by the hair and tried to rip my throat out.
This is when my nightmare really began.
Ok this is my first foray in to the world of Fan-Fic so be kind but constructive criticism is welcome
If the response to this is positive I'll make a a Part 1.
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