The Awakening

...pain...

"Hey, man, are you OK?"
"Wake up, dude! It's okay!"

It surrounds him, envelops him. It courses through his body, never ceasing, never abating. It is within him...it IS him. All his world, all he is, is pain.

"Somebody call the paramedics!"
"Is he still breathing?"
"It's hard to tell through that gas mask. Don't think so, though."

He cannot escape it. All he can do is lie there, helplessly.

Hoping the pain will go away soon.

But it will not go away. It persists, laying waste to his patience and his pain tolerance. A shudder runs through his entire unconscious body, and as his breaths start coming out in gasps, he can see them.

"Hey, he's breathing again!"
"Hang in there, buddy. An ambulance is on its way. You'll be alright."

Visions pass before him now, mysterious visions. A dark man, standing before him...a person wielding some sort of light weapon...and a whisper, quietly telling him something. He cannot understand it. He cannot make out the words...but he knows they are something important, something dealing with the dark man and the light weapon. He tries to open his mouth, but is stopped as another current of pain runs through him, and all he can manage is a silent scream.

Finally, he wonders silently. Who are they? Who are those people, and what is the vision showing him? Who are they, and what have they to do with him?

Him?

Who was he?

His eyes snapped open and he gasped, the pain now more than he could bear. Three men knelt before him, two in plain clothes, one in a white uniform.

"Alright, mister. You'll be okay, don't worry."

They were sitting him up...

ARGH!!!

They were hurting him!
They were causing him pain.

An invisible wave caught the three assailants, spinning them around, sending them into a nearby building, and as he felt their pain, his own pain lessened a bit. He lay back down, trying to rest, trying to make the pain go away...but then the whisper came to him, and he knew what had to happen.

He couldn't just lie there, said the whisper; he had to take action, to stop the men before they came back to hurt him again. And this, of course, was the right thing to do; it melded with his basest self-preservation instincts and gave him the strength to move. Rising, he fought off the wave of pain that washed over him, and he took a step towards the three men who were now just getting to their feet.

The whisper came to him, and told him what to do.

The men approached him warily, the one in the white uniform readying some sort of needle, undoubtedly to cause him more pain. That could not happen. He raised his hand at the three men, then twisted it...there was a terrible snapping sound, and a spike in the pain of the three men, and as their pain spiked, his own subsided somewhat.

And then he felt them go away, though he could still see them lying on the ground.

He gave a shuddering sigh, then turned and gazed at the white vehicle behind him, from which rushed more men in white uniforms. More men who wished to cause him harm, and he wouldn't let them do it. They, too, went away, in the same manner the other three did.

With no one around, he now had time to think, to try to dull the numbing pains that still ran through his body. The men in the white uniforms were bad, bad men, men who wanted to cause pain wherever they went. There were more, he was sure, and they would want to come for him again...so they had to be stopped, once and for all.

Then he thought of his visions, and the pain returned full-force, driving him to his knees. A primal scream erupted from him, sending shock waves of pain for a square mile around, driving weaker beings to the ground, sending some of them to a writhing, painful death. And amid all this suffering, amid the screams of the afflicted, the whisper came to him again.

The dark man, and the beings with the light weapon, were the sources of his pain. And just as making the white-uniformed men go away caused the pain they had caused him to go away, so would making the dark man and the light-weapon wielding beings go away cause the rest of his pain to subside.

With a single-mindedness born of suffering, he rose to his feet and stalked off into the underworld streets of the city-planet, the one he might've known as Coruscant, if the pain didn't obscure his memories.

The light-weapon beings would not know what hit them, and they would pay for doing this to him.

((OOC: What planet is this on and can I join>))

((It's Coruscant, it says in the second to last paragraph. And I guess you could join, but this post wasn't really meant to be an RPing post. More informative than anything else, a reintroductory post of one of my characters. I'll do some actual RPing later.))

((Gotcha.))