First draft
Dia was disoriented, dripping with perspiration when she woke up. Her back hurt but that was to be expected. She was lying on the floor after all.
It was really a dream.
That was the good news. The bad one was that her bedroom looked like a completely different place. Except for the desk, the rest of the room was a mess. The bed, in particular, was gone; The sheet, mattress, even the metal frame - everything was in pieces.
"What...what the hell happened here?"Dia wondered.
However, when she went to the bathroom and saw her image reflected in the broken mirror, it became painfully clear who was responsible for this mess.
"I...did this?"
Her hands were still deformed, her nails replaced by sharp claws. She tried taking deep breaths, putting into practice the meditation technique she'd learned, but five minutes later, those claws were still there.
"Goddamnit!" She snapped, her irritation mounting.
I need help. I need a...
"A doctor." She felt hysterical laughter rising up in her throat, "And of course the only doctor around hates me."
The irony of the situation wasn't lost to her.
I can't ask for help, but...what else can I do?
Her eyes fell on the Spice's vials lying on the desk. Luckily, everything was still intact, but...
...they are useless.
"Wait...this thing is like a drug after all. If that's the case, maybe I developed resistance to it." She picked up the vial and spun it around, staring at that gray-blue liquid for a moment, "...should I increase the dose?"
Then, before she could have second thoughts, she picked up the inoculator, clumsily inserted the vial into the appropriate slot and injected herself. She staggered when the Spice started to kick in, leaning against the wall as the heat hit her. She was breathing hard when it was over, barely able to stand, and yet, the claws were still there.
"Shit." She whispered.
Her throat went dry when she looked at the rest of the vials on her desk. She wobbled across the room, pushing her body to move, her hand trembling when she reached for the vials.
I could be wrong. Maybe it'll just make things worse.
Yet, when her eyes fell on her hands, all that hesitation vanished. She injected herself again, but this time her legs caved in immediately. As that heat spread throughout her body, she suddenly became conscious of the weight of her clothes. She was squirming on the floors, trying to take them off, when waves of pleasure ran over and through her. She tried to resist it, put up a fight, but soon all her thoughts evaporated. She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips when she saw Reyes and Omen, flashes of images reminding of her dream, the way they touched her, kissed her...loved her. Then, everything ended. That sensation slowly faded, but Dia looked feverish, a layer of sweat all over her body. However, she'd reached her objective. Her hands were back to normal.
She was still panting, her chest coming up and down with rapid breaths when she heard Mitchell speaking through the speakers, "Dia Zephyr, report to the bridge immediately. The target established contact. I repeat, the target established contact."
Dia didn't even try to move. She just stood there, utterly spent, "...What a way to begin the day."
YOU ARE READING
Chromium
Science FictionCorporal Dia Zephyr assumed it was just another drill, no more than a Navy tradition, a rite of passage for the recruits. She expected a spacewalk, maybe a shooting game inside an asteroid field, skimming along the Collective's border before turnin...