Gregor stooped and plucked an ashen skull from a pile of bones in the bottom of one of the stasis pods.
"Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well." He peered in through the eye sockets. "Always wanted to say that."
"That's not Sergeant Yorick." Craig pointed to another pod. "That is."
Gregor turned. "Who's this then?"
Craig brushed the dust from the name plate on the pod. "Private Steve Cooper."
"Bah." Gregor dropped the skull. "I hated Steve."
Craig watched, mystified, as his superior, Commander Gregor SURNAME pushed past him and picked up the correct skull and began to recite the same verse. Another of the troops stepped forward.
"Commander, what are your orders?"
Gregor spun, the skull still in his hand, and regarded the private for a few seconds longer than necessary. "I wasn't finished."
The private glanced at the skull, then back at the commander. "With respect, sir, Yorick was a friend of mine."
"Then you'll want me to finish his send off, no?" He didn't let the private reply. "There's a good man!"
"Then you'll want to say it right," a voice added from behind them. "It's 'Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.'"
Gregor shrugged. "I prefer the misquote, thank you, doctor. I cannot stand Shakespeare."
He was cut off by the sound of the skull shattering on the floor. "Too late, you spoiled the moment."
Sunday, 12 September 2010
(Listening to - Nothing!)
This is currently the opening to my new post apocalyptic WIP:
I don't want to give anything away (mostly because I don't know much of anything about the plot yet), but it's about a group of soldiers who wake from a form of statis to find that the world has been destroyed and humanity wiped out through war.
Gregor is the leader, who is was brought out earlier than the rest, and the process seems to have addled him somewhat. Hence the not taking death seriously (wonder where he gets that from...)
So what do you think? Has legs? :)
PS - I'm aware the guy has no surname. I'll figure it out eventually. ;)