I'm not very good at stories so please don't be too hard on this.
You awake to find yourself in a cold sweat. You mind is still racing from the nightmare you have most nights. You have been in the city for three months now but that nightmare just will not leave you. You start to think able all that has happened to you and the memoirs start flooding back. From the day you awoke in the cryo tube, too watching as a dog that move like a man dragged away the body you had dumped out of the other cryo tube to save your skin. You chuckle at the fact that you hated the guys show. You remember feeling lucky to find that shack in the woods full stuff.
That was the last time you got to see luck like that for a long time. Most of the time you found yourself praying that the roof of the house you were scavenging in didn’t come down on your head again. Then there was fear of running for your life from raiders, dogmen and the odd looter waving a meat cleaver over their head just because you made the little bit too much noise getting that tin of soup. You start to smile, that was all fun and games compared to the horror of that house. You start to shake and tears are running down your face. You take a deep breath and say over and over like a mantra I’m in the city the house is gone. You slowly stop shaking and wipe away the tears on you stained sheets. You hit the wall hard as you think of that mad man in his stupid hat fooling you in to going to THAT house.
You hear a police siren start to wale and you start to relax. Yes all that is in the past. No more running for your life or digging are trying to find enough food and water to stay alive. You are in the D.M.C the city with its big walls food shops and small but clean rooms. You lie back in bed and relax thinking the nightmare will stop in time. That’s when that part of your brain, the bit that saved you so many time out there starts to scream. Something is not right. You slide your hand under the pillow and feel the worn handle of the meat cleaver. A voice brakes the moment. I would not do that it will end badly for you. You freeze how did they get in, who are they and why are they here. The voice cuts in again, you can call me Mr Pink. Oh now don’t look like that It’s no more real than your Mr I.M. Smith and yes we do know that is now your real name. MMMM I can see you a person who hates to waste time on idle talk. A friend told us about your special skills at finding things. We are in need of some one like you. The voice stops because you have started laughing. The laughing like a mad man puts the voice off. You stand up look over at the voice and scream THE HOUSE THE HOUSE. You run across the room and crash through the window screaming THE HOUSE.
BAM you open your eyes your mind full of fog and try to work out where you are. It starts to come back to you. You are in a cryo tube that has just opened. You try to remember what that dream was just before you woke up. Then you hear a strange noise and all thoughts’ of the dream are gone.