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Being dead isn't really that bad. It's not particularly good, either. To be precise, it's neither. Being a proud man of science, I never bought into the idea of heaven, hell, or purgatory. But there was a part of me that still wondered, with everything we don't know about the universe, if the soul survived death. The idea that something as complex and wondrous as consciousness could just disappear seemed to defy logic. It's not hope; it is common sense.
So when, through the darkness, I began to experience something akin to melodious vibrations, my inquisitive nature peaked. Everything was a haze in that moment - I had no past that I could recall, and my present was a complete mystery. All I knew was that I was experiencing auditory stimulation and I had no idea what that even was. My brain -
wait, what is that and how do I know it
- felt like it was processing information through a thick, pea soup fog. The vibrations began to take on a familiar rhythm that I recognized somehow.
A flash of understanding came to me in that moment - the vibrations are sounds! And not just any mundane sounds either, but voices!
Voices? Is that what they are called?
I had no idea how I knew these things, but I was absolutely certain that these sounds were coming from people just like me.
I'm a person? Of course I am!
Very slowly, I was able to make out distinct words bouncing all around me, muffled as they may be.
"... heart rate..."
"... how did... and... long... effects"
"... no tissue damage... may have... too long though"
"... hope she's okay"
I heard two distinct voices, I was certain of it. Judging from the bits I was able to discern, they were having a conversation. The first was quite professional, almost procedural in tone and tenor. The second was far more casual with a very obvious quality of excitement and exuberance. Despite the personal chasm between the two, they shared a very obvious similar quality: they were both female voices.
The fog in my mind gradually began to lift and snippets of memories darted through my head like lightning bolts. A college. A classroom. A dark room. Freezing to death. A beautiful topless woman.
Jasmine
Everything came crashing back to me in a wave and panic took the place of curiosity.
What the fuck happened? Did I die? Where am I?
The very last image I could remember was that cold metal door that secured my fate as an icicle for the very short remainder of my life. And then nothing. But now I heard people talking and I was starting to make out exactly what they were saying. Everything was still pitch black, but their voices were now echoing through my skull with precision.
"I cannot guarantee this will even work. The ice in which she was encased is unlike anything we have encountered. There's something else contained within it, a compound. It's impossible to accurately date the specimen," the professional voice said.
"But you can bring her back, right? You said you could!" shouted the excited voice. "And stop calling her a
specimen
. She's a person!"
"I am unsure. The spec-...
she
has been frozen far longer than any other subject that has been successfully revived by a magnitude of at least eight. There are no guarantees here, especially with the limited equipment on board."
"Please do what you can. This is important! Really important!"
Is this some sort of hallucination?
The fog had lifted from my mind just enough to begin questioning my perception and lucidity. Consciousness was my only sense at this point; any sense of a corporeal existence seemed much too far beyond my grasp.
Is there a movie playing? Maybe I fell asleep and all of this has been a nightmare. If I could... just... open... my eyes. Hell, how do these things work again? What muscle do I move? This used to just... work.
Try as I might, my eyelids remained closed. That is, until a bolt of sensation shot through my core in an instant, immediately bathing everything in piercing white.
"She moved! Did you see that?" the excited voice exclaimed.
"We have consistent vitals. Body temperature is steadily rising, brain function is reporting normal," informed the professional voice. "Although, I have never seen activity like this before. There's nothing like it in the MT index."
Searing pain coursed through every fiber of my being in that moment. It was like every nerve ending in my body was firing at the same time, almost performing some sort of self-test to determine if they were operational. Then, just as quickly, the pain disappeared, replaced by tingling all over my body. The blinding white that engulfed me slowly gave way to colors, shapes, and textures. Then more clarity followed; objects became visible like I was looking through saran wrap smeared with petroleum jelly. I blinked once, then a second time. Considering my previous limitations, I marveled at this mundane improvement in my abilities. More details emerged slowly and very soon I found myself staring at a glowing orb recessed into a metal plate.
Shit, that almost looks like the ceiling in an operating room... wait, what in the FUCK?
My neck craned up in a jolt, sending waves of pain into my head and shoulders. I cried out, my voice seeming foreign to my own ears momentarily.
"Easy, your muscles have not been utilized in a long while," said the knowledgeable voice. "Here, this should help."
I heard a few low electronic beeps, then all of the pain dissipated, replaced by a feeling bordering on euphoria. With my senses gradually becoming clearer, I tested my neck once again, relieved to discover there was nothing unpleasant when I lifted my head to appraise my situation.
I was greeted with a scene vastly different from my icy tomb, finding that I was reclined on some sort of steel table at a forty-five-degree angle. There were computers and machinery on either side of me, though unlike anything I had ever seen. The room was like some science fiction set piece that would have been perfectly at home in any of the Star Trek movies. I would have focused more on my surroundings if not for the far more interesting sights in front of me.
"Yes! It worked! You're awake!" squealed a young girl standing to my right. "You are A-mazing, Madison! Oh, we are going to have so much fun! What can you tell me... "
"Lizzy, please, your excitement could startle her," stated a dark-haired woman directly in front of me, interrupting the other. "And please, have some respect in front of others. It's Dr. Ross."
Okay, I must be dreaming. No way is this happening.
I shook my head from side to side, hardly believing the scene in front of me. The dark-haired woman, apparently named Dr. Ross, was observing me from behind a console where she stood. Her eyes roamed over me with curiosity behind wire-framed glasses, an expression of interest playing at the corners of her mouth and brow. Now that my vision had cleared, it was obvious she was a doctor; or, at least, a porn star roleplaying as a doctor. Her curvaceous frame adorned a skin-tight black jumpsuit, topped with a lab coat hanging open to reveal her ample cleavage. And, to complete the package, black heels or boots, though in truth it looked like a combination of the two.
"You mustn't move too quickly, your equilibrium is very likely not balanced right now," Dr. Ross said, glancing down at a keypad and tapping furiously. "I really don't know if there will be any side effects from your reanimation. This is the first time a procedure was performed under these...," she paused, before meeting my gaze. "Unique circumstances."
"You worry too much. Look, she's fine!" Lizzy interjected, turning to me with an excited smile. "Aren't you? Fine, I mean?"
My attention shifted to the girl that the good doctor called Lizzy. She looked to be about my age, maybe a bit younger, but that could have been attributed to her small frame and pink hair. BRIGHT pink hair. Her petite frame was practically bouncing and vibrating with restrained energy as she looked me up and down. Unlike the doctor, her appearance seemed far more normal to me, at least for a college student. She wore a multicolored jacket atop a black tank top, her small but perky breasts giving some dimension to her torso. As she swayed from side to side, her plaid skirt followed her movements and drew my attention to her legs, donned in fishnets and knee-high black boots. Her attire looked like she ran through an alternative, punk, emo, and goth closet and picked items at random. "I'm sorry, you're still getting your bearings," she said, more to herself than me.
"Wha..." my voice caught in my throat as I tried to speak, setting off a coughing fit immediately.
"Take it easy. Clear your throat and take a few deep breaths. The mucus in your sinuses and throat may still be thawing," stated Dr. Ross, tossing a concerned look in my direction. I cleared my throat as she instructed, tasting ice as I did so.
Why would I have mucus that was thawing?
"What's going on?" I finally spat out, my voice feeling far too loud. "Where the hell am I? Who are you people?"
