His head hurt. It felt as if his skull was being split open. Stirring where he lay, he reached up to touch the top of his forehead, where the pain was the worst. It felt warm. Wet. Sticky. He tried to open his eyes, but as he did a wave of nausea washed over him. He clamped them back shut and gritted his teeth against the pain and sickness.
For a time he laid there, trying to will the pain away. As he did, he listened, but he didn't really hear anything. What little sound he heard made no sense. He couldn't place what it was. Where was he? What happened? He tried to focus his thoughts on these simple questions, but each time he did a fresh stab of pain split through his head. He couldn't seem to recall.
It felt like he was laying on his back. There was something cold and solid against his back, so that seemed to make sense. He lifted his hand again, this time more focused on the sensation. Gravity was definitely under him. He was on his back. Why was he on his back?
Again he tried to open his eyes, more carefully this time. Another wave of nausea gripped him, but he was ready for it. He stomach turned and rolled, but he kept his focus on the light in front of him. Light? His vision cleared slightly and he realized there was not one light, but two. They seemed to be cords of luminescence that ran along a metal ceiling on either side. The ceiling couldn't have been more than a few feet high at the most.
He thought about sitting up, but figured that if he did he'd probably vomit. Let's start small. He looked at his hand. It didn't seem the right color. Red? Hands aren't red. Not bright red like that. He rubbed his fingers together and they again felt wet and sticky. Red. Sticky. Blood? Touching his head again, he came back with a fresh sample. Definitely blood.
His vision drifted slowly up and down, trying to get a feel for his environment without sitting up quite yet. The quarters were quite cramped. It looked like he had been stuffed in some kind of a metal tube, and not a big one at that. There were monitors on either side of him, however the screens were dark. On one end, near his feet, he saw the tube empty out into darkness. This caught his attention the most.
Moments drifted by as he simply stared in to the inky blackness. Where was he? He couldn't see anything down there. Trying to steel himself against his gut's ongoing threat of throwing up, he tried to sit up. His hair stuck to the floor, but came from with a soft tug. A large computer console beneath the darkness came into view. Then, just like that, it snapped into his mind. Submarine. I'm looking out the cockpit of a submarine.
He crawled forward to inspect the control console. The console was still functional and nothing looked damaged, although one section seemed to be smeared with blood. Did he hit his head on the computer terminal? Why couldn't he remember? A switch label "Exterior Lights" caught his attention and without even thinking about it, he reached down and flipped it on.
Through the glass bubble of the cockpit, the deep black outside was drowned out by massive flood-lights snapping on. Brown. No...there's something else. He gently shook his head, trying to clear his vision. What was he looking at? There was nothing but brown outside. It looked like ...dirt. That was it! He was staring at a wall of dirt. He could see some of the sediment floating amidst the water around him. Did he crash?
With that mystery solved, his attention was drawn back to the rest of the submersible. A small puddle of blood, congealed now, had collected where his head had been. There was no one else in the sub with him. Aside from the cockpit's console, none of the other computer systems in the sub seemed to be functioning. Nothing looked damaged, so what had happened? Sitting down into the pilot's chair at the cockpit, he took a minute to try and gather his thoughts.