06-18-2016, 09:18 PM
"Ding.. Dong" rang the jet plane seatbelt sign. The pilot had set the sign on to remind the passengers that there was sudden turbulence. But Marcus was busy observing out a window at the trees. The man's irritating thoughts kept repeating on his mind. It could drive a man crazy if he listened to the "little voices inside your head" too long.
That's when Marcus, a terminator that could pass as a man realized he should've followed directions when they described a plastic guide stuck within the velvet pockets of the jet. Marcus replied "Nobody reads that crap" hours earlier.
A loud "KATHUNK" occurred as the plane had hit a flock of birds. A clump came out of the engine cowlings. But nobody laughed when the pilot proceeded the radio, solemn and assuring the passengers to hang onto their hats.
The jetliner reeled back and sent Marcus tumbling toward the cockpit. Oxygen masks fell in the seat areas but many folks were too busy screaming to care. He could grab onto metal parts attaching the chair to the floor and grasped it. But the interesting part came when a wretch came flying toward the man's face. Who would pack a wretch in a place as this? Nobody would ever know..
Before anybody knew it, the jet broke into two sections, and the back of the plane that was there moments ago disappeared. The nose stayed noticeable all around for a second and then started to tip like someone throwing lightning at the ground. At first glance, there was no survivors.
The plane slowed down when the fuel reserves ran dry. But the pitfalls that awaited the supposed survivors were expected. Jet fuel and sparks didn't mix.
The Infiltrator terminator felt a sense of pain washing over him. A lump formed on the skin where the wrench hit Marcus's hard head. Without the right tools, machine related wounds would be a challenge to fix, but he had to make do. The wrench that hit him ended up in his coat.
Marcus pushed himself to climb over various obstacles on board. The man remembered a old friend named Kyle Reese. A old quote he once said "That's the difference between machines and men, we bury our dead."
A cruel reminder that he hoped that would never pass for him. He took a corpse and lifted it on his body as he had to question his own mortality.
Overwhelming support between the survivors grew. But others wanted to pave their own paths.
That's when Marcus, a terminator that could pass as a man realized he should've followed directions when they described a plastic guide stuck within the velvet pockets of the jet. Marcus replied "Nobody reads that crap" hours earlier.
A loud "KATHUNK" occurred as the plane had hit a flock of birds. A clump came out of the engine cowlings. But nobody laughed when the pilot proceeded the radio, solemn and assuring the passengers to hang onto their hats.
The jetliner reeled back and sent Marcus tumbling toward the cockpit. Oxygen masks fell in the seat areas but many folks were too busy screaming to care. He could grab onto metal parts attaching the chair to the floor and grasped it. But the interesting part came when a wretch came flying toward the man's face. Who would pack a wretch in a place as this? Nobody would ever know..
Before anybody knew it, the jet broke into two sections, and the back of the plane that was there moments ago disappeared. The nose stayed noticeable all around for a second and then started to tip like someone throwing lightning at the ground. At first glance, there was no survivors.
The plane slowed down when the fuel reserves ran dry. But the pitfalls that awaited the supposed survivors were expected. Jet fuel and sparks didn't mix.
The Infiltrator terminator felt a sense of pain washing over him. A lump formed on the skin where the wrench hit Marcus's hard head. Without the right tools, machine related wounds would be a challenge to fix, but he had to make do. The wrench that hit him ended up in his coat.
Marcus pushed himself to climb over various obstacles on board. The man remembered a old friend named Kyle Reese. A old quote he once said "That's the difference between machines and men, we bury our dead."
A cruel reminder that he hoped that would never pass for him. He took a corpse and lifted it on his body as he had to question his own mortality.
Overwhelming support between the survivors grew. But others wanted to pave their own paths.
Quote: 426 Words/ Word count
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