It was 227 years ago. A day I could never forget. The day the bombs finally fell. I remember when it happened. And I remember the pain.
My name doesn't matter anymore. I am the remains of a nobody, sentenced to death row in a maximum security prison. The day that I was to die, a peculiar thing happened. I was locked in the chair, the sponge dripping on my head. The mood felt oddly sour for a day where a murderer meets his maker. Until the shaking started.
My onlookers were confused at first. It started slowly, building up over about five minutes. Eventually people started to panic. A man ran outside the room to ask what was going on. Another five minutes passed where everyone just sat there wondering what to do. Eventually, my executioner came to a consensus with his boss.
"Everyone calm down. We came here today to send off this murderer. The time has already passed for his scheduled execution so we shall now start. Any last words?" He said as he pointed at the igor that would end me. I was ready for this and had prepared words before hand but caught my breath as I glanced over to a small window, my last look at the sun. Wait, why is the sun getting closer? Staring hard, my eyes almost popped out of my sockets. Grinning wildly, I turned towards the crowd with a laugh.
"You should worry about your own".
Silent now, I waited. The man, confused by the words, turned over to the igor, wasting his last words on a cliche. "Pull the switch"!
The pain was unbearable, but I kept my eyes open long enough to watch as the entire audience was swept away in a wall of debris. Some how, the shockwave of the explosion hadn't really affected my side of the glass, instead blowing bodies and crumbling stone through my side, creating a claustrophobic space around me, sealing me in. Even more amazing, the power in the chair didn't cut out for a full 7 and a half minutes before I could tell if I was still alive or not. My brain was very muddled and my body wouldn't stop spasming for 5 minutes, somehow reaching some sort of stability. Breathing deeply. I finally could think. Im still alive. Im surrounded by a wall of stone but I can see muted light above me. Is that fire in the sky? Think. If I cant get out of this chair im going to die. I struggled in vain, trying to force myself out of the chair. I was in the chair for about 15 minutes when the temperature started changing. It got cold. Very cold. Before I could understand what was happening my body rapidly started freezing, ice crawling up my skin. Eventually I was encased in the ice, in a tomb made of stone, my eyes glued to the place where I could see light.
My mind was active at the beginning of my imprisonment. Eventually it devolved to insanity. But I'm a con on death row you say? Doesn't that mean I was already insane? I was fucked in the head, but not as fucked as I was now. As my mind became less active, entering a hibernation cycle, my little ice cubicle started to accumulate radiation. It took almost 150 years before the ice age started to come to an end and skies finally cleared up enough to let sunlight back in. In that time, the ice started to melt around me, albeit at a very slow pace. It took another 50 years for the ice to melt enough that my head was free. As soon as my head was free, my body decided to start back up again.
Now over the years, I had been awake and asleep many many times throughout. This wasn't the first time I'd come back to consciousness. The last few times id just stared at the hole in my tomb. What else could I do besides think? In the last 200 years, my brain had healed enough that my insanity had recovered and I could think like a logical person once more. How my brain had healed I couldnt say. How I was even alive I could only guess. But I assumed it had to do with the fact that my entire body was glowing a resolute green, pulsing with my heartbeat.
With my head being free, I did the logical thing. I screamed. I screamed in pain. I screamed for my eternity of torture. I screamed because I could scream again. I didnt know it would feel so good to scream. Muttering to myself, I immediately started planning my escape. I called it "Operation stop being such a snowflake". I didn't know then, but I would be stuck in that chair for another 26 years.
The ice finally finished melting after the first 25 years. Breaking out of the chairs cuffs was just as time consuming. After breaking my right wrist to get it out of one chair cuff, I was in much pain. It disappeared fast, but my wrist took 7 month's to heal before I could use my hand for anything. It fixed itself and healed correctly somehow. I did the same thing with my left wrist and once again waited another 5 month's for it to heal. In that time I managed to get my legs free with my good hand but I couldn't get my neck free. Until my other hand healed I was stuck. Finally regaining my full dexterity, I used both my hands to fondle the metal neck collar. The collar just would't budge even after waiting for this long. Finding myself getting angry at this indignation I pulled with both hands in opposite directions on the collar. To my surprise, I split the metal collar in half, ripping it from the back of the chair.
What is this strength? Did I evolve over my time spent here? Curious about myself, I quickly use the chair to climb as high as I could, being 6 feet shy of reaching the exit hole in the ceiling. I jumped. And I managed to grab ahold of the ledge of the hole. Smiling with an idiotic expression, I pulled myself up and out of the hole, blinding myself with the suns torturous beam.