Ataxia
1
Pandemonium and blood flooded the streets that day. Bodies toppled from buildings. Gunfire echoed across steel canyons. What else could they do? They were doomed. And they all knew it. Death was their only escape.
There was darkness and a faint glow. Debris was scattered across the cold concrete flooring. Cracks ran across the ceiling haphazardly. The foundations had begun to buckle. The building was sturdy. Sturdy enough to withstand the impact, but the forces of time and nature had begun to break the building down. The cold, dark room was once a bastion of safety. It was a place for the fortunate to wait for the darkness to pass. The darkness passed. But the devastation was too great. It couldn't be undone.
The dark room suddenly flickered to life. The faint green glow was overpowered by a flashing red light and a screeching alarm. The device was, in fact, a large vertical tube. Contained in the green liquid was a human being. The teenage boy twitched, his blonde hair swaying in the life-preserving liquid. The machine ceased its alarm and began to erratically belch out a synthesized woman's voice.
"Power r-r-reserves h-have been exhausted. I-i-i-initiating emergen-gency evacuation sequence." The machine made a high-pitched squealing noise as the glass chamber opened suddenly, spilling the contents onto the floor. Blonde and all.
The teen hit the floor hard, causing him to groan loudly in pain. He was naked and covered in the fluids that were once contained in the tube. The smell was disgusting, and it caused him to vomit and cough up the liquids. He gasped and inhaled for as much air as he could take in; occasionally coughing up more of the green fluid onto the concrete floor.
Once he had control of his breathing, the teen slowly began to stand up. He was shaking and trembling, and the simple act of standing up was painful on his weakened body. He wrapped his arms around his chest and took a glance at the puddle on the floor, then back at the tube he had fallen from. Etched on the top of the frame was a number followed by a name. His name.
#6842: Naruto U.
"N…Nar….u….to?" The words fell sloppily out of his mouth, as if speaking for the first time. His voice was ragged, so he coughed and cleared his throat in an attempt to soften his scratchy voice.
"My…my name is…Naruto." He was slightly relieved that his ability to speak had returned to normal. However, his concern returned when he realized he didn't know what the "U" stood for. Or how he'd gotten there in the first place. He knew the "U" represented his last name…and he knew there was a very important reason for him being there. He just couldn't remember. It was a strange feeling. It was a mixture of sadness and frustration. He struggled to remember, but it was lost. He searched the recesses of his mind, but he simply couldn't remember.
After a good five minutes of deep concentration, he remembered that he was still nude and dripping in green goo. He looked around the room and spotted a faded yellow arrow emblazoned on the floor. It directed his vision to a slightly-ajar door on the opposite end of the room. Cautiously, he approached the door, his bare feet making soft sounds on the concrete floor as he left a trail of liquid behind him.
He peeked through the small opening through the door and spotted nothing. Slowly, he opened the heavy metal door. It made a creaking noise as its rusted hinges struggled to push the door open. Much to his surprise, a series of lights flickered to life as he stepped into the room. He jumped slightly when one crackled and burned out.
He observed the large room and noted that it strikingly resembled a high school locker room. Complete with showers. His heart skipped a beat at the mere sight of the stalls. He felt dirty, like years worth of dirt and grime had clung to him like a parasite. Stupid goo.
As he approached the showers, he couldn't help but notice the disorderly state of the building. He hadn't really taken in how dilapidated the facility was. This made him worry even more. Would the showers even work? How long had this building been here exactly? And how long had he been here?
He reached for the nearest faucet and turned it slowly, hoping for water to emerge from the faucet. Nothing. He tried the next stall. No luck again. He sighed and tried the third faucet, hoping desperately for some water. The blonde about squealed when water burst forth from the faucet. It was cold, but he didn't care. He scrubbed himself and was delighted to see the sticky substance falling from his body and into the drain. He drank from the showerhead and gargled it in his mouth. His tongue and throat had been dry up until that point and the water was nothing short of sweet relief.
Eventually, the blonde reluctantly turned off the water and emerged from the stall. He observed himself and relished in what a little water could do for his self-esteem. He felt more confident and had a newfound strength inside him. The blonde scoured the locker room and was pleased to discover a towel. He dried himself and recovered an outfit from one of the open lockers. The orange jumpsuit fit snugly around him, and he looked himself over, satisfied with the way he looked.
Refreshed and rejuvenated, the blonde felt more confident and pressed forward into the next room. Wrappers, bottles, and other containers lay scattered across the floor amidst rubble of varying degree. He knelt over and inspected the various containers. He was hit with disappointment when he realized they had once held food and water. The mere thought of food made his stomach turn over.
Slowly pressing forward, he made his way down a long, winding corridor to an old rusty elevator. Seeing no other path in the facility, he reluctantly stepped onto the creaking elevator and pressed a green button. The elevator jolted to life and slowly crept up the elevator shaft.
After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator stopped at another long corridor. The blonde breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped off the elevator and into the dark tunnel. Light fixtures dangled haphazardly from the ceiling and the floors and walls were in a similar state of disrepair.
The teen pressed through the corridor, carefully avoiding anything that might cause him discomfort or injury. The end of the corridor held nothing but a large door. Curious, he attempted to push it open. It moved, but not very far. This time, he pressed his entire body against the door and pushed with all his might. It budged a little further, but not enough for the door to fully open. A bright light rushed in through the small opening, lighting up the length of the corridor.
Again, the blonde pressed against the door. This time, the weight of the door buckled against him, causing it to swivel open and send him sprawling to the ground. He squinted against the bright light and felt a familiar texture against his hands. Dirt.
He adjusted his eyes slowly to the light. The sun warmed his cool skin, sending goose bumps up his arms and back. The blonde squinted and observed the landscape before him. He fell back and was at a complete loss for words.
Before him were crumbling buildings, collapsed highways, and overgrowth that penetrated the last remnants of man. Before him lied a wasteland.
A/N: Well there you have it, chapter one. I apologize for not making it very exciting or interesting. I hope it satisfactorily set up the story for you guys. I'm a terrible writer. XD Anyway, I really hope you all enjoyed. Reviews are very much appreciated. :)