_You're
Dead Jim_
If he had thought that being kidnapped by his own corporation and being
tortured in a secret laboratory deep in hicksville
for five years was surreal and disturbing, waking up to realize he was short,
blond, and unmistakably dead was even worse.
He tried very hard to not think about it as he stared down at his corpse. His
hands had barely shook at all as he had closed the
blindly staring eyes, /his/ eyes, and turned away. He continued not
thinking about it as he forced his uncooperative body to pick up his
weapon and the scattered provisions. And continued focusing on anything
but being dead as he somehow stumbled and crawled his way down the steep slope
and towards the metropolis looming in the valley.
It was frightening how easy it was, all things considered.
Zack almost wished he did feel some sort of psychic attachment to the bit of
bone and tissue left laying somewhere behind him in the tall grasses. Something
to remind him that he had in fact, spent a good 37 years living, loving,
/existing/ in that body. It was disconcerting how easy it was to just walk away
as if it had nothing to do with him. Very softly, so as to not disturb
the family who had let him hitch a ride on the back of their truck, he began to
laugh.
Idly he wondered if he should call his mother and let her know. But then he
realized that the company had probably done that for him, admittedly a few
years prematurely, but good enough. ‘Hi mom, I just thought you'd like to know.
I'm dead,’ just didn't seem the sort of thing that would go over too
well. If Sephiroth were there, he was certain the pale man would snort in
amusement. The bastard always did have a twisted sense of humor.
Getting a hold of himself as best he could, he lay back on the beat up bed of
the truck, and watched as the sky above was rapidly replaced with the underside
Midgar's massive plate. Feverish and shaky, he
slowly tried to prioritize what his needs would be in the next several weeks.
Not for the first time, he closed his eyes, calling out to someone he hoped,
truly hoped, was still there.
~Spike? You in here?~
The sound of his blood in his veins, not his blood because he was dead, but his
blood just the same, was all he got in reply.
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