Ghost Flight

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His eyes opened.

Slowly.

Peeling apart eyelash by eyelash, straining against the thick crust of blood that fused one with the other. Cracks sprung a fraction at a time, like broken glass over bloodshot eyeballs. The brightness seemed to scorch into his retina, as if a laser was being focused on to his eyeballs. But who by? Who were the enemy… his tormentors? And where in God’s name were they?

He couldn’t remember the slightest damn thing.

What day was it? What year was it, even? How had he got here – wherever here might be?

The sunlight hurt like hell, but at least his sight was returning to him, little by little.

The first concrete object that Will Jaeger became aware of was the cockroach. It swam into focus, looking blurry, monstrous and alien as it filled his entire vision.

As far as he could tell, his head seemed to be lying sideways on a floor. Concrete. Covered in a thick brownish scum of God only knows what. With his head at this angle, the cockroach appeared to be approaching as if it was about to crawl right inside his left eye socket.

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