The Day After

Posted on Tue Jun 23rd, 2020 @ 5:22am by Mauricio Arnaldo
Edited on on Fri Jul 10th, 2020 @ 5:31pm

Mission: Death in Paradise

His head was pounding, his throat was dry. There was the faint smell of vomit near by and somewhere in the distance someone was banging on a door. Mauricio Arnaldo lifted his head off from the bed where he lay, blinking rapidly as he adjusted to awaking up from what seemed like a coma. He groaned as he rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes again for a few moments.

Another hour passed and that banging in the distance started again. Mauricio murmured for them to "Shut up" but it came out as a hoarse whisper. He opened his eyes once more and looked to the roof. He saw the intricate pattern of the crown moulding around the small chandelier and started to wonder when he had put a chandelier in his quarters. He certainly couldn't remember doing that, but he knew he hadn't spent much time there lately. Perhaps someone else had re-decorated for him? It took great effort to move his tired hand to his face to rub his eyes. He didn't want to fall back asleep but he couldn't stand the brightness of the room either. He knew he needed water, food, and most likely a shower. He was wearing pants, but no shoes, and a shirt, but it was left open.

"Computer, what time is it?" He croaked.

There was no response. Except the banging got louder.

"Computer?" He moaned, louder this time.

Moving his arms back to bring his hands to his side, he slowly lifted himself up - and this took quite a considerable effort as his body was still recovering from his deep slumber. He felt like he had been in a coma for weeks; this was the first deep sleep he had since returning from the bubble universe. Except the means of achieving this sleep - the all-night drinking bender he had been on with his Marine friends - was starting to wear on him now. He was beyond hungover, his body was groaning from the after-effects of the heavy night.

He opened and closed his mouth for a few minutes and tasted the unmistakeable tang of blood. He could faintly feel a throbbing sensation on his face and he gingerly touched his nose. This sent a shock of pain through his body as his nose was clearly swollen and had been bleeding. He felt lower and recognised the dried blood that was across his lips and chin. Mauricio realised he was feeling sore in other regions of his body too - there was a definite wound on his right leg that had seeped through his pants. And his knuckles were bloodied and bruised, too.

"What did I do last night?" He wondered aloud. Clearly he had been fighting, but he couldn't remember with whom.

Sitting upright he was surprised to find a wooden armoire where his desk usually was. And the walls were not their typical steel grey, but instead an earthy-red with a floral pattern. His window was drawn with red curtains, and he definitely didn't remember installing those. With his mix of fatigue and confusion, Mauricio shifted his body around and placed his feet on the floor - now learning there was a heavy shag carpet covering it. He looked with concern at the mess of belongings all over the floor. Clothing, some furniture, bottles, food containers. The place was a mess.

A few steps across the room and he found the source of the vomit smell when his bare foot landed in a small puddle of sick. He cursed loudly in Spanish, though the sound of his own voice caused his headache to spite. That banging in the background didn't help either. Deciding to press on, he continued on the final few steps towards the curtain-drawn window. With gusto, he pulled the velvet curtains aside.

Instead of seeing the outside galaxy of distant stars, as he usually would from the port-window in his quarters, Mauricio was astounded to see the Entertainment District of Paradise outpost. All the shops, restaurants, casino, and people were milling about below.

"I'm not on the Pandora." Mauricio gasped.

He spun around and looked at the room properly. It was a hotel room; a small dingy suite. He saw the wallpaper was peeling in parts, the chandelier was missing globes, the bed looked old and well-worn, and the parts of the carpet not covered in mess were matted and burnt in places. There was a dense, mouldy smell in the air which the Marine could just work out through his swollen nose. Next to the bed had been a side-table with a lamp, but that was tipped onto the floor. The armoire had a door hanging off it's hinges. He wasn't sure which damaged he had caused in his drunken state, and which parts were just the filthy appearance of the room itself.

"HEY! YOU IN THERE!" Came a voice from the doorway. The banging continued and Mauricio finally realised it was coming from his door.

Wading back through the mess and around the bed, he sidled up to the door and opened it. "What?" He barked.

There was a middle-aged alien woman on the other side, looking incredibly cross. She was dressed in an old, hole-ridden tunic with a dirty yellow apron. "Check out was four hours ago! You owe me for another night!" She peered obviously into the room, her face a mix of smug satisfaction and anger. "And you'll pay for all that damage, boy!"

Mauricio flinched at the woman's loud voice, turning his head to save his poor head. When she finished verbally attacking him, he calmly replied, "Where am I?"

"Where are you?" She retorted, giving her head a shake. "I knew I shouldn't have let you in, boy! You were far too drunk. You better be able to pay me!"

"Please..." Mauricio moaned. "Just tell me where."

"The Parlour. Adult district of Paradise." She replied with a snort. "And we don't give freebies. I don't care if you're Captain of the Pandora."

The Marine paused, looking to the woman to see if she was being serious. He didn't remember making such a claim, but so far everything about last night was a complete blur that he couldn't recall. "I said I'm Captain of the Pandora?"

"Yes, and you said Pandora will pay for it. But you gotta pay, alright?" She stuck her finger in Mauricio's face, only just missing his swollen nose. "You have twenty minutes to get your stuff and leave or I'll call Guards!"

"The... Guards?" Mauricio looked down to his hands. There was a brief flash of memory - his fist punching a silver helmet - but he shook it away. "I'll leave. I'll leave."

The woman stared at him for a moment longer, before shaking her head and walking away down the long corridor. "And you better pay!" She called out as she departed.

Mauricio slammed the door closed again and leaned against it, his body sliding against down until he was on the floor. He looked around at the mess, then his hands, as he started to panic. He started breathing heavily, feeling the weight of the situation coming down on him fast. He dug his hand into the carpet, gripping onto the fabric for dear life. The room. The wounds.

"What have I done?" He whispered.

OFF