Scum pt. 1

       The first sensation that you experience within this life is one of unearned cerebral torture. Hardly understanding even what reality is in this moment, you are suddenly awoken from what has felt like an endless sleep by a fierce shock dancing across your entire brain. Coming from the base of your skull the sensation is paralyzingly painful, and any thoughts your young mind could hope to muster are canceled out by the erratic mess of electric static that spreads from its source and throughout your entire nervous system. Your body, you now being aware that you have one, seizes up and thrashes violently within whatever prison you appear to be within. You cannot see it, as your eyes are currently rolled into the back of your skull in an involuntary gesture. You cannot feel it either, as any nerves associated with touch are currently well into the process of shorting themselves out. Your limbs jerk to and fro and bash themselves repeatedly on some hard casing that you are seemingly trapped within. Your teeth grind into each other so fiercely you fear they may crack from the strain, and just as your mind begins to dull and the pain starts to give way into endless oblivion it stops.

     The unwarranted current no longer courses through your flesh and blood, not that your nerves seem to have recognized this. Still your limbs spasm out in every which direction, violently bashing into the impenetrable casing you're found within. Now that the sound of loud electric static is no longer vibrating across your ear drums you can make out distinct sounds from around you. Despite your eyes rolling back into their normal position they still see nothing but darkness, not that you even know what light would be. As your limbs begin to jerk about less and less and your mind is now no longer being overwhelmed with excruciating pain, you find yourself capable of focusing on more than one thing at a time. And focus you must, as for some reason you cannot explain you feel an overwhelming feeling of dread. Some unknown organ within your mind begins excreting chemicals that spreads all throughout your body like a poison. You are scared. Scared of what, exactly, is a different question all together. Having existed consciously for a grand total of a few waking seconds you are incapable of imaging anything concrete as of now. This feeling is something more basal, a more primal feeling of fear. A fear that if you do not get out of whatever restrictive prison you are in you will be subject to the pain again. Such a thought turns your muscles hot and causes your eyes to twitch about and, as you do so, you begin to feel and as you begin to feel, you begin to think.

     Your senses begin to feel your young, reeling mind an endless stream of informative data. Your eyes are wet, as are your limbs, as is your body. Moving around your body appears entirely weightless, and as begin to feel around with your hands and feet the exterior of whatever prison you are encased within slowly begins to piece itself together within your mind. It is hard, rough, and ribbed. A series of horizontal ridges run in a pattern up and down the entire structure, it bowing outwards towards your midsection and quickly turning back inwards to form a round shape that completely encases you. As you move your limbs you feel the wet, resistance and your ears begin to pick up the sloshing sound that results from each movement. Trying to look around you feel two distinct oddities. The first, is that something else appears to be swishing about in the fluid with you. Feeling a soft mess of feathery... things you panic and reach your hand upwards, grabbing ahold of the copious strands and pulling on them. You quickly realize though that even if touching the tips of such strands grants you no sensation they are certifiably connected to the top of your head, and feeling the pain that results from yanking on them you eventually decide they are unimportant and let your hair go free. The second sensation, is that you cannot turn your head. Your legs and arms can move entirely freely within your new prison but your torso, and by extension your neck and head, are held in place by something. Feeling your hands along your spine and eventually reaching the back of your head you feel the culprit. A cold, smooth rod is currently connected to the base of your skull. Feeling it all over you try to move the rod, finding the back end of it firmly affixed to the back wall of your prison. It's front end, the part that connects to you, gives more useful information though. Feeling about the connection port you feel pain, and through the numbing fluid warmth begins to seep across your fingertips as fluid from within you begins to flood out into the chamber around you. Making the mental connection that the electric shock you had received mere moments ago originally came from the base of your skull, this exact location, your mind begins to panic. Feeling desperately about the rod you yank and pull on it. With each tiny movement your brain screams in protest, you  pushing past the unpleasant feeling as your very survival quite literally depends on it. With the sound of ripping flesh sounding out from within your head you eventually pull yourself from the rod's sharp tip, and as you do so you find yourself quickly flying forwards.

     With a rush of momentum and a loud hiss the front half of the egg-shaped object you were seemingly born within flies outwards, colliding with the opposite wall and clattering uselessly to the floor. The grey-colored embryonic fluid surrounding you gushes out in a flood, spilling across the uneven green-grey flooring, you falling down with it. With a rough landing your legs, hips and soon the rest of you lands with a sharp thud on the cold floor. The numbing sensation that had previously covered your entire body quickly begins to fade away and a dull, throbbing pain now comes from the parts of your body that hit the floor with such force. Your chest and throat begin to hurt for some reason and as genetically coded signals rush up towards your brain you roll over and vomit out a mixture of the same grey fluid as before, though a black, oily mixture is found intermingling with the liquid. Your eyes strain from the force, your stomach retching until nothing else can come out and with a sputtering cough you take a few rasping, painful breaths. Your first breaths are far from pleasant, the taste of acidic bile fresh within your mouth, yet still a wave of relief washes over your mind at the sensation of such dry, stale air. Taking a moment of reprieve you lay there for some time, wet and soiled in your own birthing fluids, staring at the room around you.

     You appear to be within a massive chamber of some sorts. Lining all walls there appear to be birthing pods shaped exactly like yours. Round, greenish-grey, and covered in an interlocking segmented pattern of ribcage-shaped ridges. Multiple tubes of various colors stick into each pod, with fluids ranging from grey to black to a vibrant green color flowing in through them. Lifting your head you look down the chamber and see that it extends as far as the eye can see in both directions, there being a slight curve to its shape that eventually veers out of sight. Each pod is perfectly spaced out and every twenty or so there is a pause for an odd "T" shaped object to erupt out of the floor. Speaking of, the floor is seemingly made out of the same material as the pods. Grey and, running your hands across its surface, appears to be made out of what appears to be bone. No warmth emanates from its surface, suggesting to you that it is long dead, but looking around you see that the massive tube-shaped chamber is made entirely out of such material.

      Closing your eyes you take a few moments to assess the state of yourself. The back of your head still throbs with pain and moving a hand to graze the back of it warm fluid seems to have stopped oozing from it, though the wound appears large enough to shove a finger into. Attempting the process out of curiosity you are rewarded with the excruciatingly painful sensation of your finger grazing the back of your brain stem, and making a hissing groan you quickly retract the finger and reel from the pain for a good few moments. Deciding to focus elsewhere, you feel your body over. Only now do you realize how cold you are, the dry air around you quickly causing the fluid that coats your body to form a physical film, something you begin to idly peel away. Your body is thin and bony, your chest as flat as a board and multiple rows of ridges that resemble the ribs found in the architecture around you is found in your middle. Your torso rises up and down as you breathe, a sensation you aren't entirely used to just yet. Your hands and feet both ends in sets of digits that you stare at and wiggle about for a few seconds, you finding wonder in such control you express over your reality with but your thoughts. Rolling yourself over you try to test out the muscles you can feel flexing underneath you and, pushing off of the floor slowly begin to pull yourself to your feet upon trembling limbs. Grabbing ahold of your lifeless birthing pod you haul yourself up its exterior, your knees knocking together from the strain and your arms trembling uncontrollably. Eventually, you begin to stand yourself upright, the wet mat of black hair that covers your face not making the process any easier. Already annoyed with it you brush the mass out  of your eyes, only for it to fall in front of your face once more. Annoyed, you decide to ignore the loose strands as much as you can and focus on taking a few steps, a process that you seem instinctually drawn to attempt. Though you nearly topple over a few times and you feel immensely weak, the process of walking eventually comes to you and you manage to take a few shaky steps completely unaided. Standing upright in the cold, alien chamber you look all around you, with no clue on where to go from here. The cold air blows across your body, sending a shiver down your naked body and oddly, through your mind as well. You feel oddly... vulnerable? Lonely? You aren't capable of properly expressing the concept just yet, but you feel a yearning you haven't felt up until now. You desire a purpose. You desire something to share that purpose with. You want to be. To exist. To know.

      As if decided by fate itself, the loud, unmistakable hissing pop of a chamber opening is heard far off ahead of you. Snapping your head in that direction out of instinct your eyes have to squint and focus themselves in order to see that far ahead. A flood of grey fluid is seen spreading out across the floor and, quickly following behind it is another being. You watch it fall forwards out of the chamber and collapse onto the floor much as you had, your eyes widening as you realize what exactly you have just witnessed.

Another thing like you, born just like you, struggling just like you.

You are not alone.