The Prexilin-Personal Narrative

It was hot. Im not talking about a nice summer day kinda hot, but the kind that physically drains you, and wont let you sleep when you need it the most.

The Prexilin didn’t do shit anyway.

No one really knew what they put in it, and the Medical General was not talking. It was a kind of stimulant- that we knew for sure. One needle and one injection and you’re both awake and attentive for nearly three days, not to mention the supplementary advantage of a clear rise in your aggresion. It usually stung when put in. You could feel it dispersing throughout your blood circulation. Right when you assumed you could not get any hotter, along came somebody carrying Prexilin- just to make your day a little brighter. The comedown was the worst. The migraines …show more content…
He was serious.

Barry wondered what it must be like, to be so young, and have only known the kind of chaos that ravaged his home for his entire life.

And to be so young and carrying what was obviously a well-used weapon.

The kid lit his cigarette, handed the lighter back to Barry, and strolled off to the other side of the compound.

It was hot.

Barry took a step towards his tent, and caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. A wind scorpion had decided to use his shadow to get out of the sun. Big one too. It’s body, head and mandibles were at least the size of his palm.

Jeez, they were creepy looking things, and not really scorpions from what he understood, but closely related. Barry realized that he was going to have to make the decision to either run for his tent, or kill it where it was because it would follow him to stay in his shadow, and a motivated wind scorpion could actually move at about ten miles an hour.

If I don’t take off at a sprint, he thought, my eight-legged friend here is going to follow me all the way into my tent.

It was hot.

He looked at the wind scorpion. It was large enough that he could make out its glittering greenish-white eyes