The Streisand Effect [Spectra Fanfiction, book 2/3]

19 - Ghosts

Blondie's head felt like it had been pressed under a road roller as consciousness slowly shook him. There was an immediate and sharp surge of pain that ripped through his chest and head. Moving his limbs was almost impossible, it felt like he was experiencing some form of sleep paralysis. 

His thoughts were there, however his movements weren't. Said thoughts began clawing at him, coming fast and rapid.

The Reaper's eyes, black and lifeless. The scent of a plucked rose and the sight of a shrivelled one. His terrible laughter booming through his mind.

Run. 

His eye snapped open. An intense pain shook a groan from his mouth and instinctively he clutched his stomach. The air was cool and crisp. Beneath his body, he could feel the soft embrace of a pillow. Looking down, he noticed a clean white blanket covering him up. 

He was aboard the Stinger. Given how clean it was and the abundance of white, he guessed he was in Erica's room. In his arm was a needle connected to a hose that fed up to a small bag of artificial blood. He wasn't sure how injured he'd been, but if the pain was anything to go by, he was lucky to be alive. Not eager to be laying around in bed all day, he yanked the needle from his arm and attempted to roll himself out of the small bed.

He fought with the covers briefly, they had been laid out nice and tight and while they were comfy, it made getting out of them somewhat of a hassle. After his skirmish he set his feet on the ground and was immediately met with another sharp burst of pain in his chest as he tried to stand up. He hissed under his breath and almost fell over at first but managed to catch himself on the wall. It took a while to find his balance but eventually he made his way to the door.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he walked. His blood ran cold as he inspected the damage.

Left ear completely severed. Patch over left eye. Large scars running across his face, chest covered in stitches and surgical glue.

"Fuck me." He muttered under his breath. 

His immediate thoughts went to the rest of his crew. He couldn't remember much after the attack. He remembered the truck and Sarin, but that was it. Was everyone else okay?

Pushing through the pain he exited the room and headed for the main hallway dressed only in his long pants. He entered the ship's lounge where all eyes in the room immediately turned to him.

"Blondie, hey," Jäga chirped, rushing over to the nox. 

"Good morning," Duria added.

Blondie grimaced and rubbed his head, looking out the window to see the sun licking at the skyscrapers in the distance.

"Morning already?" he muttered.

"Eyup. You crashed hard last night. Erica spent most of it fixing you up," Duria said, downing a glass of water. 

"How do you feel?" Rix asked.

"Sore."

"Yea that makes sense."

"What did I miss?"

Jupiter folded his arms, a stern expression on his face, "Not much. Just trying to figure out what our next move is."

The nox grimaced, "And?"

"Nothing."

Blondie sigh and rested his hands against the holographic table in the centre of the room. 

"How about we start by clearing the air first. That nox fellow. He seemed to be very familiar with you," Duria queried.

"And skilled with a sword too," Jäga added.