Through the Shell

Consciousness arrived with tension in my knuckles. I flexed my right hand—the joint moved, resisting slightly against the molded blister. Sight cleared. Directly across from me, separated by another transparent casing, stood a silent figure in a hockey mask. I tapped my gauntlet lightly against the clear plastic barrier. A dull click echoed within my small enclosure. The mask opposite showed no reaction. I lowered my stance, cataloging the perimeter, the sealed edges, and the static presence beside me.