Alien: Isolation (1st POV Ripley Edition)

#1

- Disgusting fucking shit! So much worse than a hangover! - I cursed out loud like a hardened coachman from the 19th century, feeling sleepy, but not very well, as if I was going to get sick.

It's always like that after waking up from a hyper-sleep. At least about ten moments.

Oh...just a little more. Yes, it's better now.

I slowly straightened up and turned around.

The hibernation beds, dark red and oval, seemed to tell me that I had enough sleep.

Yes, that's right, I totally agree.

I pressed the reset button, and the open capsules closed.

I took a deep breath. And immediately I became aware that I was in underwear and a bra.

Time to go get dressed.

And while I was barefoot, still slightly sluggish from hibernation, wandering the corridors of the Torrens ship, I occupied my mind by repeating everything that was happening to me.

It seems ridiculous, but it is necessary. After a hyper-sleep, it helps me a lot to remind myself of who I am and what I am doing, i.e. what I do.

Amanda Ripley, daughter of Ellen Ripey. I am a mechanic and electrical technician on ships for the transport of goods and people, and I wasted more than ten years on an aimless search for my long-lost mother on the cargo ship Nostromo.

And I immediately clenched my jaw about it. Obviously I can't help it. Inside me is that little girl who is still somehow convinced that her mother is alive, just lost out there somewhere...far away.

But this time it's different, I feel it. The flight recorder of the Nostromo ship was found at the Sevastopol station, and something tells me that I will finally find...something more. At least more than nothing.

And honestly, I'm bursting with impatience to get to the station. Moreover, I would say that I am excited.

After wandering around the ship's corridors for too long (they are so empty that I feel really bad, as if some creature from nightmares is going to jump out from somewhere and attack me!) I finally arrive at the cabin with the lockers with uniforms. I almost get dressed, but then I see the shower and go under it. Ugh, wonderful! Warm water pouring over my head. I lather up well, wash my hair well with shampoo and... it's a strange feeling, but something seems to tell me that I won't be bathing again soon. No, I don't like that feeling.

Anyway, after a bath (shower, actually) I get dressed, log into the ship's computer and head out to find the others. However, at the exit, I notice some kind of telephone box with a slot for ID cards. Oh, another piece of crap from the WY company. Some time ago they issued a notice that all ships that work for their company or trade frequently will be issued with these devices, multi-functional and very, very useful.

Um...I have no idea what it's for. I reach for the antique receiver and think of calling Samuels. Shall I try? Well, why not.

After a few moments of fumbling I realize that I can only do this after inserting my ID card. Ugh, so slow. It takes about 3 to four seconds for the device to respond, a real waste of time! But then I call the ship's switchboard (01011) and ask the ship's automatic system to connect me to synthetic Samuels.

- Ripley - his voice answers me among the beeps of various devices.

- Good morning, Samuels.

- You woke up, I hear. Taylor has been on her feet for an hour or two and is not feeling well. And how are you?

- Pretty good - I reply - after the first few moments of disorientation. When are we arriving?

- To Sevastopol? Soon, said the captain. Listen, I'm in the medical cabin, doing something. Talk to Taylor and the captain if you want. I will join you shortly.