The Immortal – Prologue: Eyes Open
By Grozic
Written 7.21.2009
Updated 7.23.2009
Disclaimer: I don't own any sort of franchise let alone the Neon Genesis Evangelion universe.
Augen auf.
Oomph!
"Charging!"
"3…2…1… Clear!"
Oomph!
Wake up!
Open your eyes, it's ok…
"Clear!"
Oomph!
It would be in your best interest if you woke up now.
Oomph!
"Sir, I think he's responding."
Arigato…
Opening his eyes, the patient groaned as the blinding light assaulted his line of vision. Once his eyes had adjusted, he saw a group of blurs around him. Moving around him in a messy fashion, scrambling for their charts or at least what he assumed were charts, they were making an irritating amount of noise. Being who he was, he opened his mouth to inform them of this fact.
Unfortunately, being asleep for an innumerable amount of years has a very bad effect on one's mouth and vocal cords, mainly being his body forgot how to use them. So as he started to talk or try to, all he could get out was a cough.
"It seems he's trying to speak," a voice said in an amused tone. Male. The patient scanned around, looking for the source of the man's voice amidst the sea of people and equipment being moved back and forth. Finally, looking to his right, he noticed a group of doctors just standing and observing his actions. "Well then, let's get started shall we? But first, we need to get rid of these little people." Heh, little. The patient inwardly mused as he noticed a giant, burly man lifting machines out. Receiving hateful glares, the grey haired man ignored them as he quickly shushed the rest of the assistant medical team out of the room, locking it as soon as the last piece of dust escaped.
Then, pure scientific chaos ensued…
"What's your name?"
"Where are you from?"
"Are you fluent in any languages?"
"Do you like cheese?"
"Who are you?"
"What's your I.Q.?"
"Do you like monkeys?"
"Are you a psyker?"
"Doctor?"
"Soldier?"
"Monkey?"
"Professor?"
"Captain?"
"Biomechanoid?"
"Tyruzion?"
"Humanoid?"
"Cheese-It?"
"Ahem!" The old, grey-haired man coughed loudly and very violently. It had seemed he overestimated the intelligence of his underlings. "If you haven't noticed, but our patient is currently unable to speak; therefore…"
"He can't speak."
So much for trying… The wrinkly doctor mused. Rather than prolong this torture, he just decided to state the obvious. "Therefore, he can't answer your questions. "
"Ooooooooooooh."
"That makes a lot of sense."
"That sure is a genius observation, sir."
"Maybe he'd like a Cheese-It. It helps me when I'm speechless."
The old man felt like smacking himself in the face. It couldn't be possible that his so-called 'professional' team of doctors was this dense. He doubted anyone else in the world, no make that the entire multiverse, could be as dense as this.
______________________________________________________________________________
Countless characters in their own animes sneezed in unison. In fact, the sneeze had been so well coordinated that God was avidly applauding the amazing feat. After he sneezed with them though.
Staring at God, wondering why he was clapping, Archangel Gabriel just decided to ignore it. God was simply too strange to understand.
______________________________________________________________________________
After using his own weight to push out the brain-dead group, he locked the doors. Can't have those dumb zombies try to get brains by eating ours. Looking back at the patient, he took out his portable scanner. The portable scanner, while less accurate than the heavy-duty scanner, still had a 99 percent of accuracy.
Walking towards the patient, he noticed the patient staring straight back at him. He ignored this and began the scans. The patient, very bored and confused at the same time, just laid there, living it up while wearing a gown that exposed his butt.
*beep*
*swoosh*
"Well, it seems the scans are done." The doctor took a careful look at them. They showed there was nothing wrong with the patient except repressed memories and his body adjusting to being active. The memories would be easy enough to let out, just a half an hour with the therapist here could get any man talking. While he didn't approve of the way the therapist did things, he had to admit they were extremely effective.
Going back to the task at hand, he only had one off-hand thought. What was that swoosh?
"Sir!"
Oh hell no…
"Excuse us, but can you please respond? We were worried when you locked the door."
Oh bloody hell no…
"Helloooo? You hear us sir?"
The old man looked back towards the door. It was locked and closed. His eyes scanned the around the room for the source of the annoyance. Finally arriving on the sight, he had one thought. Holy shit… I can't believe they did that. In his vision, he saw a broken window with the group of 'doctors' standing right there. "How did you break the window? It's supposed to be bullet-proof."
"Oh that? We just borrowed Dr. Vagner's laser can opener that he developed last week and made some adjustments on it. He guaranteed us it would be able to open any can, so we assumed he meant glass cans too."
The grey-haired man's eyebrow twitched at this. He wanted to scream, "It's Wagner, he pronounces it with a 'v' because he's Germanic! And who the fuck makes glass cans?!" Calming himself, the old man resorted to using his trusty, giant toy hammer. One swing and a couple seconds later, the 'doctors' that were previously assembled at the window were now falling down into bottomless pit that was at the center of the station. He softly cried to himself, knowing they would find a way to come back, despite the bottomless pit being bottomless.
______________________________________________________________________________
God sighed at this, he had clapped the first time they came back, but then it just got annoying. Especially when he, himself didn't know how it was done. He was supposed to be the All-Knowing! Damn it all to hell! Uh oh. Oh crap…
Archangel Gabriel sighed, half glad that there were certain safety measures in place in case of such an incident as God swearing and damning everything. His other half wished he had been damned to Hell to avoid all of God's little mishaps. Yep… Another day in paradise.
______________________________________________________________________________
Stifling anymore thoughts that would sidetrack him, the old man looked back at the patient. He was laying back. Motionless. Was he dead? No, that wasn't possible in such a sort amount of time. Or was it?
The old man poked the patient in the eye. He shifted. Nope, not dead.
It was just a case of having fallen asleep during the interruption.
*beep*
Grabbing his scanner, he had forgotten to turn it off as he was paying attention to the mindless idiots. He was about to shut it off when he noticed something. It seemed the patient was trying to recall something as the scanner indicated his brainwaves working at beyond the normal level. While no full memories were able to be acquired, the scanner showed the patient wasn't unsuccessful.
No, he had remembered his name.
So his name is Shinji Ikari… The doctor mused. He would have to go into the archives and databases now. Glancing back, the old man decided the patient deserved some rest. He walked out softly as to not disturb the state of sleep the patient and in. He closed the door and left.
In the room…
Eyes opened.
Omakes!
Numéro Un!
Eyes opened.
"Holy fuck!"
Tears started streaming out of Shinji's left eye. Why the hell did he have to poke him in the eye? Why couldn't the crazy old man be normal and just gently shake his body.
It hurt so much! He could feel the blood rushing forth as the tears blurred the view from his left eye.
He'd have to pay the little, old bastard back soon. Real soon.
Moving his head around, he searched for a way out. Clearly he missed the unlocked door and broken window when his gaze rested on the ventilation shaft that was hovering over a couple of boxes.
Shinji grinned like a maniac.
Somebody gonna get a hurt real bad…
______________________________________________________________________________
Numéro Deux!
Dr. Vagner (ahem, excuse me) Dr. Wagner felt a chill down his back. An omen. Something bad was going to occur soon. Well, either something bad or he forgot to close a window. Looking around, he noticed all his windows were closed. Vell…
He didn't have a chance to complete his thought as his the door to his lab slid open. It was the therapist. Walking in slowly, the therapist held the handle of a box. The box itself seemed harmless enough, what was inside it however was tools.
Tools of torture. Dr. Vagner (woops) Dr. Wagner thought fearfully. He recalled what happened last time he met with the therapist. Just thinking about it sent his mind spiraling into the depths of despair.
"It's time for your yearly check-up doctor." The therapist put on a pair of gloves, snapping the edges to ensure they were put on all the way.
Wagner (hey what do ya know? I got it right) just eyed the therapist with the utmost terror and screamed when the therapist walked towards him.
Throughout the night, girly shrieks and screams could be heard for hours on end. The funny thing about this was that the therapist left two minutes after coming in.
A/N: My first fic ever. I'm so proud of myself. :D Personally, I gotta thank Alain Gravel for updating "Chosen" which in turn reminded me of the fic "The Fox Lord" by MadHat886 (thanks to him too). Combined with the two epic stories with the humorous "Gift" by Mercaba and "What We Make Of It" by Zentrodie (merci beaucoup to those two), I found myself with a scenario that wouldn't get out of my head.
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the beginning of the prologue, that's right, I said the BEGINNING of the prologue. This immortal concept is not really an original idea or anything, but it was an idea that allowed me free reign over what I wrote and the numerous crossovers I will make in this; planning to shamelessly spam them across your very eyes. To give a clear view of the lifespan of the story, it may possibly last forever and be immortal until I abandon it, or it may last until December 21, 2012. Hmm... maybe not so clear. It really is unpredictable. What I do know is that I want to finish at least two eras before it dies.
I'll be alluding to outside sources many times throughout the course of this story and just for funsies, I won't sick the therapist on whoever can guess what references I made here. Everyone else, be prepared for pain, or if you like what the therapist does, pleasure. You sick, sick masochists. On a side note, reviewing will provoke my mercy and you won't get hurt. .0
Good night, and good luck.