Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, and am making no money off of this fic.
AN: Written for the January 12th Cocktail Party prompt found here: gwcocktailfriday . tumblr .com (/)image/169489160663. (Without the spaces and parentheses.)
Going Nowhere Fast by luvsanime02
The building that advertises drinks within looks brand new. Then again, all of the buildings in this town do. He tries to ignore that, and instead just focus on finding some way out of here.
He doesn't know what he's doing anymore. Can't even remember how long he's been trapped here.
Warily, he looks around, but he's alone. For now. Being alone is better than those things coming back to attack him again. He doesn't know what they are, and has only ever been attacked during the night so far, but whatever those things are, they're completely silent until they attack.
They also have very sharp claws. Grimacing at the memories, he ignores his wounds as much as he can, the slow-healing lacerations deep along his shoulder and thigh. Those damn things were trying to disable him. Or dismember him. Either way, they almost succeeded.
Luckily, he carries some knives and a gun on him, but he's out of bullets. Has been for days. All that he has left are his knives, and his sanity, and maybe not even that last one.
There's no rational explanation for why he can't leave this town. Hell, he should be able to just follow the road out and end up somewhere else. Instead, he always winds up walking back towards the town again. He'll pick a random direction and try to walk, run, climb his way out, but he's always back on the same road leading to the town before too long.
There's got to be some way out, though. He clings to this assertion with all of his remaining mental strength. After all, he got in here somehow. He doesn't remember exactly how. All he recalls is driving, and then the car wreck, and then…
Waking up here, however long ago. He's lost track of the days. Knows it's been more than a few weeks. At least. He can't think about that too much, though, or despair starts creeping up on him all over again at his many failures so far.
No, he'll get out of here. He has to. He has shit to do, and he can't just die here.
If those things out there don't kill him eventually, it'll be because he's either escaped or killed himself first, and isn't that a depressing thought.
There's got to be some exit, though. He just has to find it. That's the only thought that's been keeping him going all of this time. He just needs to hang on for a little while longer.
The buildings around him are of no interest. He's been through them all already. Looking for signs of life, maybe a clue as to where he is and how to leave, but there'd been nothing. The whole town looks brand new, filled with pre-colony buildings and functions, like something out of a damn bedtime story. Or a nightmare. Both, probably.
Determined, he limps forward step by step, trying to decide which direction to turn next, and wondering if it's worth it to check out the cemetery that he's been avoiding. There's been no real need to go there, since he can see across it and walk around it in order to investigate the whole town, but still, there might be something among the graves. Anything. Maybe he'll check the lower floors of all the buildings again, too. There might be a secret tunnel out of here somewhere.
Shuffling forward, he tries to ignore the emptiness and the silence, and how there's not even the sound of animals nearby, despite the woods being right there, surrounding the town. The stillness presses down on him from every direction. He tries not to care. He tries not to shiver, even though it's perfectly warm out. He tries not to scream just to hear some noise, knowing that it will do no good. He tries not to just lie down and give up already.
He tries not to notice the sun sinking lower in the sky, knowing that those things will come out when it's dark and hunt him once again...