The world had ceased spinning and the violent movement had stopped. The pressure of the klaxon sirens still lingered in a phantom memory somewhere within his eardrums, but the only sound now was the fall of gentle rain that he felt in the change of air vibrations. The Titan realized at once that his world was no longer complete darkness, but a bright spear of light stabbed into his enclosure.

The Titan tried to sit up but found the world spinning uncontrollably once again. This time it was illusionary, he realized, and though the floor beneath him felt like it was tilting, it was only due to a probably severe blow or two to the head. It was not the actual world that was spinning but simply his equilibrium. It was not his first dance with a concussion, and if he had to guess would not be his last. Sitting up was out of the question he realized, as he tried that very thing.

More than one problem presented itself, and though he could not see much in the darkness, he could feel his ribs expanding into his lungs every time he tried to draw a breath. Probably fractures, if he were lucky maybe just a severe bruise that would heal in a week or two. He began sliding towards the ray of light and then realized another problem with a jolt of electricity through his entire body. His leg was also broken, and though he could not be sure of his ribs, by the feel of things, this one was certain.

The Titan smiled as he saw that the hull to the enforced container had been breached, a layer in the top corner had been peeled and rolled away slightly, like an opened can. He reached his hands up to grab onto the opening. He winced in sudden pain as another problem presented itself. He immediately realized that his wrist was severely sprained or possibly also fractured. He reached out with his other hand, no, make that both wrists. A sudden memory came flashing back to him of tumbling around inside of the container and putting his arms out, desperately trying to stop himself from bashing against the walls repeatedly like a spin dry cycle. He hefted himself up to the opening as best he could and peered out.

For the first time in almost two months his sensitive eyes caught a sight other than the inside of a dark metal container. The brightness stung his eyes and caused them to water some, but he accepted the pain gratefully. Outside where he could vaguely sense the sounds of rain falling, he could also smell the dampness and the mildew in the air drifting inside from the hole. The opening was not large enough to see much, but he could clearly make out the color green. Vegetation, life, freedom. And it was all just on the other side of this damned metal.

The Titan growled in frustration as he tried to pull the metal further. His wrists simply would not allow him to use any power or gain any leverage. He growled again and focused through the pain, tearing at the metal like a Titan possessed. He was able to tear the opening further, but as his rage and adrenaline wore off, the shocks of pain sent him reeling. He searched around for a tool or lever of some sort, but there was nothing to aide him inside his steel trap.

The Titan suddenly grew woozy from the effort. Probably a side effect from whatever blow he had suffered to his head. He now realized that one of his ears was completely numb and throbbing. He reached up to made sure that it was still attached. Thankfully, it was. He had probably landed on it during all the tumbling. The wooziness and dizziness intensified until the world suddenly went black once more.

* * * *

The pressure of rain on the roof of the metal crate was no more, but there was still a refreshing dampness in the air. The Titan shifted so he could sit up inside the container once more. It was designed in such an infuriating way that he could not quite stand and could not quite stretch out all the way. No matter how he adjusted within the metal prison, he could find no comfort or relief. Either his neck was cranked, or his legs were cramped. And with a broken leg, that really left one option open for him.

He shimmied his body back towards the opening. There was no longer any light shining through. Wherever he was now, it was likely nighttime he thought. His stomach rumbled suddenly, and he wondered just how long he had been unconscious. His mouth was dry too. He knew he needed to get out and soon, or this metal box would soon be his casket. He continued to jockey for position within the tight quarters, being careful not to bend his leg, until his back was against the opposite wall of the compromise in the structure’s hull.

With all his might he kicked at the peeled corner with his functioning leg. A shock of pain from his damaged ribs protested his actions. There was a loud metallic clang that his dull eardrums barely heard but that he felt, and after a brief pause, he did it again. A maddening fury came over him and he began kicking with all his strength over and over. He frustratingly was not able to get any good momentum behind his kicks because the position would not allow him to extend his legs far enough to truly put any muscle behind it.

For long minutes, there was nothing else, just the tightening of his muscles and the thrust of his one good limb against the steel over and over, and the pain in his ribs. The Titan finally grew weary, and his lungs heaved for air. It had been two months since he’d been in the cramped box, and he could now feel keenly the muscle atrophy and cardiovascular decay that had begun to set in. He growled and mentally cursed his captors.

This went on for some time, for how long, the Titan had no way of knowing. He would kick at the opening until he grew tired and frustrated and paused for long stretches before resuming his task. After what seemed like hours it was beginning to seem hopeless, but it was the only shred of hope he had remaining. Sometime during the night, he did not know exactly when, during one of his rest periods, he fell back asleep.

* * * *

The prisoner woke up and once again and had no way of knowing for how long he had been dormant. Too long he decided, as his opened his mouth a few times to try to get some desperate relief from the dryness within. His tongue was swollen and numb inside his mouth and the pang in the side of his stomach now ached. At this point his situation was beginning to look more and more grim by the moment, and every minute he remained idle now seemed like a minute closer to the grave. He could ignore the hunger pains he knew for a long time, but water was a different story. He banged on the ceiling a few times with his elbows and forearms, hoping to draw someone’s attention. He would have cried out and was crying out desperately inside of his head, but the Titan had been born with ninety-percent hearing loss and mute.

Then he noticed for the first time since he had been conscious the overbearing heat. The inside of the metal container was holding in all the midday heat with no way to dissipate it, like a great oven, roasting the male inside. He tried panting to relieve his discomfort but knew unless he got out there was a real threat of this heat speeding up the dehydration process. He ground his teeth and dutifully resumed his task at hand, kicking away at the opening with all the tremendous fury his tired and battered body could muster. The main problem was the cramped conditions, which did not allow him to truly put the full brunt of his power behind anything. If it had been just two feet wider, he could have extended his legs further for a better kick. If it had been a little taller, he could be able to get some leverage by standing up at an angle. If only…

If only…the Titan sighed and gave up in frustration. He banged on the roof and sides of the container again, hoping there was somebody, anybody that would hear him, this time for a longer time before he gave this up too. Only no one did. He figured at this point that the ship must have crashed. That was the only possible solution that his brain could rationalize. Perhaps the only reason he had survived was because he was in the reinforced containment unit. Maybe there was no one else to hear him. Maybe he was the only one that survived, he realized with a growing sense of dread as his stomach dropped out with the very thought.

He sensed something then that gave him pause. The sounds of air vibration from buzzing little wings outside his metal enclosure. Some peculiar alien chirping outside he also could not hear but sat in silence for a time trying to sense anything. He began to question just where he was and what was just outside the darkness of his confinement. From the heat he guessed a desert, but he remembered the sight of the green he had seen and the sounds of rain. Perhaps it was a jungle or a rainforest of some sort. He began doing the only thing he could and resumed kicking away at the container once again.

After several hours he was now sure that no one was coming to save him, and his efforts redoubled in intensity. The situation was becoming more desperate by the minute, and he had to mentally restrain himself from either breaking down catatonically or flying into a panic. Sometime in the day, long after his legs and back had cramped and tired, he felt the patter of rain beginning once more. It echoed inside the container as it fell onto the steel roof, taunting his now desperately dry throat that it was there, just beyond his reach in great abundance.

The Titan shifted, and this took some time both because of his broken leg and ribs and because of the cramped conditions. He had to move gingerly, but he was eventually able to place his face next to the opening and peered out intently. He wasn’t completely sure that he wasn’t going mad from the hunger and thirst and maddening heat, but it did seem as though he could see a bit more now. Perhaps his efforts had torn the breach open a little further. Then something wonderfully unexpected happened. His face was splashed by a raindrop.

The Titan reached out to the tear in the hull and tried to rip at it once more with his throbbing wrists protesting mightily. He fought through the pain and tears that came to his eyes but suddenly there was a shift, and the metal came down all at once a few inches. Since the rend in the hull was outwards, he shifted the torn metal at an angle, and it began collecting the raindrops that were falling in abundance outside of his enclosure. He forced his face out as far out as it would go and began lapping up every bit of moisture that was quickly collecting on the jutting piece of metal. It was not much but he thanked the suns and the heavens and whoever else would listen for every drop of it.

It began as a trickle but soon there was a small stream of water coming down the piece of metal and right into his waiting mouth. He drank until the pain in his swollen tongue subsided, continued to drink until his stomach was gorged, and even then, did not stop drinking until the rain at last ceased falling outside. It was some time before he resumed his activities.

His body was still sore and throbbing with pain from his many injuries but his thirst being slaked for the time being seemed to rejuvenate him some. After kicking away for a long period of time, maybe hours for all he knew, he eventually began trying to find a way to hold on to the piece of jutting metal or the hole itself without injuring his wrists further. He tried to hold it between his wrists and between his elbows and even tried holding on and tearing at it by keeping his wrist as immobile as possible. All these ideas eventually ended in failure and even more mounting irritation Eventually he found himself drifting off once again.

This time the Titan did not sleep long. There was some noise outside that at first, he assumed was part of a fever dream nightmare, but with his heart racing he realized that it was no dream. The most terrifying shrieking roar resounded throughout the jungle-like canopy outside, and this time he was wide-awake to hear it. It vibrated the ground itself like a tectonic movement. He sat in fear for an indeterminate time, his heart pounding in his chest. That truly monstrous shriek was not the sound of anything on Titan and for the first time began to fully realize that he was alone on an alien planet and began wondering what horrors might lay outside of his box.

The Titan’s ears listened intently for long, tense, silent minutes trying fruitlessly to attune themselves to the sounds of impending danger. His keen nose worked much better, but whatever it was making the noise was not within range for that, After what may have been an hour he finally began to relax when no further otherworldly sounds were heard. His brain was beginning to imagine some monstrous horror from the primordial depths of time attacking him while helpless inside of the tin can, but thankfully, whatever had made that noise seemed to have passed for now. One thing was for certain, however, there would be no more sleep for him this night. Not after that.

* * * *

The night moved slowly for the lonely Titan. He did not dare risk pounding on the metal more and creating a racket for whatever had made that noise to hear. He instead found the most comfortable position that he could with his broken leg and injured ribs. He was not able to shift his position to his back fully because of his leg, which would have had to bend up in order for him to do so. Instead, he laid against the side of the container with his neck cramped forward for lack of head room. His entire body was constrained now, and he didn’t think he could take it for much longer without going completely insane. While getting into a comfortable position was outside the realm of possibility, once he got into a position that at least wasn’t agonizing for his ribs or his leg he sat for a long time having nothing else to do but stare out into the darkness.

Though his senses had been on high alert for most of the night after hearing that terrifying screech, he must have dozed off at least for a little while, for the next thing his consciousness knew was waking up. There was a strange tickling sensation on the side of his face, and he reached up to scratch it. Only his fingers touched something in the darkness, something long and thin like moving straws.

The Titan’s eyes flew wide, he scrambled as far back against the wall as he could, which wasn’t extremely far. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust once more, but there was some muted light coming in from the hole that helped his naturally carnivorous eyes’ night vision. He saw several long, weirdly probing legs or feelers stretching across the length of the container, and they seemed to be reaching for his face.

Swatting the insect or crustacean-like appendages away, he tried to make out their source. He saw something wormlike squirming through the opening and froze. It was some strange mix between a worm and a house-spider, with outsized appendages. Since there was nowhere for him to escape, something primal took over in his mind and before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and snatched the creature up. He then smashed the bulbous, hand-sized body of the thing against the wall a few times until the appendages stopped moving and began to curl into the body. His stomach rumbled both with hunger and disgust.

“No, I can’t.” He told himself, even though his brain was already beginning a response to his protest.

“You must. You know what you have to do to survive.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“So will your corpse be, after a month of roasting alive in this tin can. And then these things can feast on you until they are glutted. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. It is the Titan way.”

Curling his maw in disgust, the Titan shoved the body of the creature into his mouth. An explosion of juice cascaded onto his taste buds as he bit down, like biting into an eyeball or a pus-filled sack of goo. He tried to block out what he was doing and began shoving the long crunchy legs into his mouth as well. Several times he fought against retching but managed to get all but a few gristly parts down. Next came the long waiting game of hoping the creature was not poisonous in some way.