Be'cena heard a rustle from behind and barely wanted to turn around to face his cellmate.
"A Human, in the Rot. What did you do to get thrown here?"
He turned around and saw the face of Zun-Kulla. There was a green tinge to the skin, thick jaws that hung low on the side, broad brow, and wave-like head shield, which was cracked and chipped in places.
"I fought with some Humans during the Zun-Kulla campaign. Crazy bastards, but squishier than they liked to believe." He continued, as he sat up in his bunk. "The wounds are still fresh for many, so I don't think you'll last too long here."
"I was racing," Be'cena said, trying to recall the wind rushing past him as he flew at break-neck speeds through the construction sites of the Western Waste.
"Racing?" The Zun-Kulla asked as he started to laugh. "You?" He continued. "Don't pick me up the wrong way, but you seem a bit too nervy to be a racer."
"I'm not nervy, this place will just take a bit of getting used to. New place, new situation, new challenge."
"You can act tough all you want, Human, but this place isn't just a challenge. It's life and death. You do the right things, say the right things, and maybe you'll be okay. But, if you don't talk when you should, or don't stay quiet when you should." The Zun-Kulla shrugged. "Things are tough here, and the people running it are the ones you need to watch out for."
The two of them sat and spoke for a few hours, and the Zun-Kulla gave him a few tips for staying alive. They shared stories mostly, but it was mostly small talk. Outside the cells, there were a few fights, a few beatings, some screaming, and one person jumped from the top landing as they proclaimed that some cosmic horror was going to consume the entire universe soon.
They sat in silence near the end of the night, and a rattle at the bars outside caught their attention.
"Well, Mr. Trimari, keeping out of trouble?" The raspy voice asked, with pure venom seeping through the fake friendliness.
"Always," The Zun-Kulla replied.
Be'cena looked to the doorway and saw only a black figure, tall, with a slim build.
"Mr. Paun, you're enjoying your stay?"
Be'cena was lost for words and had no idea what to say. On one hand, saying no could come across as rude, so within a few short seconds of thinking, he decided to be brief like the Zun-Kulla.
"Yes," he replied, and there was a long pause as the figure behind the bars inhaled steadily.
"You're not meant to enjoy your stay here," he said, with a tone that took all of the heat out of the room.
Soon, the figure slid away, and the slow and methodical footsteps fell into the distance of the complex. The sound of screaming, and amguish remained ever present though. Be'cena's only hope for the future was that he'd get used to those sounds.
A bit too nervy to be a racer...😂😂 Killer that made me laugh
Vey epic story, you really should start writing scripts for movies man🥰🤔💯
I do already haha, that's how I got into writing actually, I studied TV and Film production.
I also wrote the script for a film about Hive being made.
!PIMP
You must be killin' it out here!
@killerwot just slapped you with 1.000 PIMP, @theringmaster.
You earned 1.000 PIMP for the strong hand.
They're getting a workout and slapped 1/1 possible people today.
Read about some PIMP Shit or Look for the PIMP District
Wow you're truly an OG man ... I'm lucky to know someone like you .. good talent man