Vivus Pulchra Machina

"Alexandra?" Blake muttered to himself, after hearing the last transmission on his personal communications device.

He was still locked away in the tiny panic room where 975 had instructed him to hide. "My grandparents had an original Alexandra," he chuckled, recalling the corny jokes she would tell if asked.

He was beginning to feel a little stir-crazy as he had been in the panic room for upwards of three hours now and the passing of time was starting to feel a little funny.

Blake repositioned himself on the small loveseat in the corner, then drifted off to sleep...

An explosion in the distance - smoking rubble everywhere...

Someone is walking toward him.

He squints into the blazing hot sun, trying to make out the figure.

Monica?! His dead wife?

'Mon?' he calls.

She is closer now.

And very pregnant.

Tears started streaming down his face.

Had it all been a dream? Is Monica still alive?

'Mon?' he called again.

Silence.

She is closer now, but she is morphing slowly into someone else.

'Val?' he whispers as her face becomes crystal clear.

He falls to his knees.

Val - very pregnant - stands before him and extends her hand.

It's so warm...

He brings her hand to his face.

'I'm back, Blake. I'll never leave you again.' Val is speaking, but it's Monica's voice. 'WE'LL never leave you.' She lovingly caressed her abdomen.

He reaches to place his hand on hers...

Just then, another explosion followed by screams.

And rapid gunfire.

975 falls to the ground, toppling him.

'Val?' he yells, gathering her limp body up in his arms.

In the background, a searing hot mushroom cloud rises in the distance.

Blake turns 975's head so her face is facing his.

Her eyes are partially open - no life is coming from them; there is blood everywhere.

Sticky, hot, maroon, metallic-smelling human blood.

'Val?! Val?' his voice is hoarse, and his face is wet with tears.

'Don't leave me, Val! Don't leave me!'

Blake's eyes flutter open.

"Oh, thank Fuck that was a dream!" He said aloud, his voice dry and scratchy.

"How long have I been asleep?" He didn't care that he was attempting to have a full conversation with himself.

He looked at the holographic display on his personal communications device.

11:03 PM, it read.

He had been in there all day, and now it was night.

The tiny panic room was equipped with the basics, including a very narrow, restroom that had running water. As long as the lines weren't cut from the outside, he could exist here for quite some time.

But he didn't want to; the temptation to exit the room and find out for himself what was going on, was simply too great.

After splashing some cool water on his face, and taking a quick sip from cupped hands, he stood.

"Sorry, Val. But I can't leave you out there alone any longer."

He turned and walked to the locked door.