Between The Flesh And The Glass: 2/??

[lalalive23]

Title: Between The Flesh And The Glass
Author: lalalive23
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: R
Warning: Language
Summary: AU. The year is 2166. Matt works as a cryogenicist for the International System of Health. He volunteers to be the first person cryogenically frozen for 100 years.
Feedback: Tastes like a chocolate rainbow.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse. This never happened (well, not yet). I don't make money off this. My whole life is a waste lol.
Note: The thing about this chapter: I know it's weird and abstract. It's meant to be broken and poetic rather than prose-y. Just note that all the events in italics will be mentioned eventually. ^__^ Yet again, the soundtrack to this story is key. Eventually I will post the songs :D Cheers to my beta boos sunshine_173 and millionstar for looking this over. I love them with all my heart. And I love you all! Happy hols bbs!

Prologue Chapter 1

Change. 

Easily occurring and drifting around and in.

Action upon action. To tear and break apart reality. Thriving on movement.

Voices and sound waves. Shattered and whole. 

A keypad. A different set of keys. Equipment shrinking in size, as results consume entire walls. Filling rooms. Wiped down to nothingness.

Little obsessions to birth and build modernity.

Enigmatic and bewildering.

Confusing and beautiful.

The breathing of the universe.

~~~~

She was Russian. He could tell by the weight of her accent. The thick drawl seemed out of place.

There was a man in the room with her. He was static. She was an immovable pillar. His frantic energy was too kinetic for her calm resolve. Urgency seemed to permeate the airwaves. 

"Anya." Panic laced with panic. "We have to evacuate."

"No, Jim, look. It's happening again. The electrical storm in his brain."

Distance was an impossible thing. She was too close and too far. He wanted to touch her.

"Anya, the fire -"

"Is several floors away. I am not going anywhere."

"Don't be ridiculous. What the hell could you possibly do?"

"This man risked his entire existence for the sake of science. We owe it to him to do the same."

No fear. Not from her. Twice the man of every man.

Leaving.

Everyone was leaving.

"Crazy fucking Russian."

An exit; not to soon.

"Nostrovia." 

~~~~~~~

They could have brought about change.

"I can't believe we're still using this formula. It's been dated."

"It's the one they started the project with, so we finish with it."

They could have brought a new beginning.

"Look at his brain. I wonder why it does that."

"His chart has shown this spontaneous activity for years. There's no pattern. I wonder if it's the brain fighting vitrification."

None brave enough.

Effort lost on an entire planet.

"That's impossible, though. It just…can't be."

How many would know?

"Don't be stupid. You're watching it happen, so clearly it can."

"Ok, but how? There has to be something in the synthetic…."

Fragments of men. Broken apart. Put together again.

Easy to forget.

"Maybe you should freeze yourself. See what happens."

"Yeah well if I do, I sure as fuck am not using this out dated piece of shit."

Fuck them all.

~~~~~~

A storm of brainwaves reflected in tempestuous eyes.

Irises in which to capsize.

A blinding shade of love. 

The surface of the Earth and its axis, grounded on flesh magnets. 

"Any day now."

Words dripping ecstasy into calloused veins. A shell to crack.

"You've been watching him for days, mate."

"I'm afraid that we've come so close now, it's easy to give up and think we've made it. Now is when everything could go wrong."

Words thick enough to hold. Vocals making holes in the unbearable weight of waiting.

"It's amazing that his brain is active again so close to the end."

"What are you going to do when he wakes up?"

"How do you mean?"

Tempting the darkness.

"Come on. You have this whole….fantasy."

"That makes me sound like I'm twelve."

Sounds of an escape.

"All I'm saying is I hope you aren't disappointed in reality."

A trigger.

A dawn.

Turning off pause.

-----

As soon as I'd grown accustomed to the dark, I felt myself get ripped apart. 

I wanted to beg Nathan to put me back under. I was begging to die. Something had gone wrong, I could tell. It was too soon. I shouldn't have been awake. It was a fucking disaster. 

Typical. I knew he'd fuck it up.

First it was the fire. No. It was cold. Too cold. It was the kind of cold that burned the skin, made you draw your hand back from a flame only to realize the nerves were shocked to numbness. Then came the slow trickle of acid through my spine, leaking into my muscles and throat. It was viscous, eroding everything in its path.

Someone was screaming. I wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up. All around me, there was noise. A single movement made my ears ring as though a gun had gone off next to my ear. 

Then I realized it was me who was screaming. 

I was moved to a table and the sting of the contact brought tears to my eyes.

Well, it would have, if my body could produce any form of liquid. My eyes were squeezed shut, sobs coming from my throat. No spit, no sweat, no tears. I had no idea when the fuck dehydration had set in. I was a bag of dry ice. 

I started to tremble. No, that's an understatement. I was spasming. Violently. I felt myself roll of the table, limp and flopping and crying like a child. 

Arms caught me before I fell to the floor. I wanted to push them away, tell them to fuck off, to join me in hell. If they had let me drop, I would have hit my head and been unconscious. At least it would have ended the pain. 

I wondered briefly if it was death that had caught me.

I chanced a glance and peeled my eyes open. The lids were stuck together, and, after spending several moments thinking I'd gone blind, I ripped them open to blink frantically.

It took several seconds for my vision to clear.

And then I was drowning in a storm.

Comments

[xavje.livejournal.com]

Ahahahahaha, my reaction exactly!!