I had to rip this scene out an rewrite it for characterization purposes, but I didn’t want to just toss out over 800 words so I’m posting them here.
This is the original version of the opening scene for my current WIP, Worst Hiring Process Ever. I hope it’s enjoyable enough, even if I don’t know how to do italics on tumblr.
Oboro wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was sure that he had expected to hurt a lot more after having a building dropped on him. Sure, he felt a little weird, but he wasn’t in pain, and he had expected to be, given the givens.
There was no pain, but his scalp felt buzzy in an unfamiliar way. His fingers twitched like there was something that he was supposed to be able to do with them that he couldn’t recall. The clouds that hovered in the edges of his mind felt heavier than normal, waterlogged and close to the ground.
What was going on?
It took more effort than he would’ve liked to pry his eyelids open, and when he did, he still had more questions.
The lights were bright, so bright, but not the long tubes of hospital lighting. When he tilted his head to the side, he could see equipment of all kinds, some of it covered in grime that Oboro didn’t want to think about the origins of. There was some kind of organic odor that he couldn’t - or didn’t want to - place, unable to hide behind the faint scent of lemon. Aside from that, there wasn’t that overwhelming chemical disinfectant smell one expected from a medical setting.
Was he in… a lab?
What was going on?
It took a moment to sit up. His limbs felt heavy and a bit stiff, but otherwise he wasn’t in any pain.
“Good, it worked. You’re awake,” a voice jerked Oboro’s attention away from the surroundings and towards one particular point. There was a man here, in the lab, with tousled white hair and eyes as red as blood. He looked pleased, and it sent a shiver up Oboro’s spine.
“Where… am I?” Oboro asked, the words coming out raspy. He hadn’t realized before that he was quite so parched.
“This is the Doctor’s lab,” the man gestured at the space, “And you, of course, are his most recent experiment. He will be disappointed he wasn’t here when you woke, but he does still have a day job. Tell me, what do you remember? I shall have to relay to him every detail.”
“I’m - what?”
An experiment? Oboro ignored the man’s question, instead lifting up his hands to see if he could find any difference between them now and how he remembered them before. He spotted a couple of jagged scars on his forearms, but they looked… well, they looked too organic to be the product of an operation. Maybe from the building that fell on him?
“Pay attention,” the white haired man growled, and Oboro’s attention snapped back up. “You are our first attempt at a more complex Nomu. I need to know what you remember, understand?”
The man stalked closer, reaching out to tilt Oboro’s chin up with his fingertips.
Oboro gulped.
“I - the last thing I remember… a building fell on me?”
“You remember the moment of your death?”
“My - my what?” Oboro knew his voice had pitched up, knew that his pupils had grown small, knew that his heart was hammering in his chest, and all he could think was How am I here if I died?
“Yes,” the man slid his hand around to cup Oboro’s cheek, a wicked grin spread across his face, “You died. Then the Doctor and I took your body to create a Nomu. I must say, I am… quite pleased with how you’ve turned out.”
Oboro swallowed a whimper, letting the man manhandle him like he was the judge of a dog show, and Oboro the hapless contestant. “Is… is a Nomu like a zombie?”
The man scoffed. “You are more than a mere zombie. Powerful and crafted for a purpose, Nomu like yourself have multiple quirks - although I’m surprised that you took the two I gave you as well as you did.”
“Wh-why?” Oboro shuddered, shelving the fact that he had two more quirks now along with holy shit I’m a living corpse in order to freak out about them later.
“Did you not hear me?” the man teased, “You were made for a purpose. You will fulfill that purpose, or else you might find that another building falls on your head.”
“Y-you -”
“Ah, perhaps I should introduce myself. I am All For One, the world’s most dangerous supervillain since the Junko Enoshima, Queen of Despair! And you, Oboro Shirakumo - no, you, Kurogiri - have found yourself in my employ as the new babysitter! Congratulations, I do believe.”
What.
“I - I didn’t apply?”
“Of course not. I selected you,” All For One twisted his fingers into Oboro’s hair, and suddenly, his voice was inside Oboro’s head oh God -
“Why do you think a building fell on your head?”
All For One pulled away, smirking, leaving Oboro reeling from the knowledge that his death was just… just a way to recruit him? And All For One could get into his head? And - And -
“I… I don’t have any other options, do I?”
“No, you do not,” All For One smiled. “I’m glad you understood that so quickly! Come now, let’s get you out of the lab and introduced to your charge, shall we?”
