The machine wouldn't stop beeping.
Ten days.
That's how long he'd been holed up in here.
'How did he even reach this place -this desolate, frozen outpost in
Siberia?'.
He was once at the pinnacle of the scientific world and now, he was here.
He caught his reflection in the metal panel.
Looked away.
He couldn't even recognise himself anymore.
They did this to him.
He smelled of beer and vodka.
His beard hung thick and matted, sticky with only God knew what, and worst
of all he's been wearing the same clothes for a whole fortnight.
But he couldn't care less by the next full moon everyone would more or less
be the same as him dirty, sad and utterly crushed.
He would make the world feel what he felt ten times over; he would make them
regret ever doing what was done to him; he would flip the whole food chain on
its head.
Beeeeeeppp! The machine behind rang out, "and now it begins", he muttered to
himself, flinching from the smell of his breath. Now all he had to do was put
the combined elements in the stasis pod and the new age of humanity's
redemption would begin for him.
He was their God now, he would decide how their life would be for the next
fifty: no a hundred years to come.
Bheeep! The machine let out a low grump signaling it was done synchronising.
With that he grabbed the revolver on the counter and a chair, putting it
beside the machine
His finger hovered over the sequence.
One movement.
That was all it took.
BEEPP! He started the sequence, and now all that was left was him
Cock! Bang!