FIC: Risen (Chapter 1/?)
Title: Risen: Chapter One. (1/?)
Fandom: Real People / 30 Seconds To Mars.
Characters: Jared Leto.
Pairing: n/a this part.
Prompt: Table 2; # 80 - Emerge. (100_situations)
Word Count: 779.
Rating: PG-13, I guess.
Warnings: Not really any this chapter. Character death but not. Future 'verse maybe?
Summary: In the words of Supernatural -- what's dead should stay dead. But what happens when it doesn't? Is it the same individual, or an entirely different incarnation of them?
Author's Notes: Sometimes ideas come to you out of nowhere. This is one of those times. My eyes were skimming something randomly, mind wandering, and all of a sudden *bam* a plot bunny starts tapping its feet like Thumper and the words just start spilling out as soon as I got a proper window open. Funny how that can happen. Now if only it happened more often, lol. And it's doubly nice when it works for one of my challenge tables.
Panic filled him, suddenly, like ice dumped into a hot bath.
His eyes were open but all he could see was thick darkness, all but tangible because of the spiraling emotions inside of him. It felt cold. He felt cold. Stillness surrounded him with the darkness and he was almost afraid to move, afraid to find out whether he could or not. He felt nothing restraining him but he didn't entirely trust his senses. So he laid there in the darkness that was quickly becoming suffocating, throat tight and dry, and strained to listen for anything that might give a clue to where he was, what had happened. All that answered him was silence.
Finally, the uncertainty grew to be too much and he raised an arm, reaching out... only to feel a satiny surface covering something hard and firm. It couldn't have been more than a few inches above him -- his arm was barely halfway extended, fingers flexed -- and he tentatively pushed, then brought up his other hand as he began to feel around. The information his sense of touch was giving him triggered a chain reaction in his head, one that had his heart racing, panic and fear flooding his being. One hand lightly knocked on the hard surface above him, holding his breath a few moments as he heard nothing in return. He experimentally stretched with both arms and legs, shivering as fear tripled.
A part of him knew though his full consciousness refused to accept what he was being told. He began to claw and hit at the surface above him, eyes wide, lips parted as harsh breaths passed through them.
As if an animal with one focus linked to survival, everything else was forgotten, nothing else registered as escape drew all focus and energy. Even sharpness pressing against the lower lip wasn't felt. A sure hint at what brought the current situation about, if only the brain were willing to fight off a fear that was nearly instinctual.
Eternity and then some seemed to pass before he rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Eyes closed tight against the weight and pressure that threatened to crush him, the body moved on autopilot, limbs constantly moving, hands constantly grabbing and pushing away. Fresh air hit his face in a cold caress, the air that next filled his lungs like water to soothe a parched throat. He sprawled in the dewy grass, chest heaving and body tingling from too much oxygen as muscles burned from overuse. However, as the panic ebbed away something new took its place.
Blue eyes that shifted hues took in the world around him, unbelieving, marveling, observing. The heavy grey stone drew his gaze, shining with rainwater, and he crawled closer though he could read the engraving clearly where he sat. Moment after moment of silence passed before knuckles gone white bore down on the stone, tight fists pummeling it to pieces. That was not the truth. He wouldn't allow it to be.
Sweat was brushed from his brow with a dirty sleeve and his nose crinkled, staring down for the first time at what clothed him. He started to think 'I wouldn't be caught dead in this.' but then stopped mid-thought and simply shook his head. Now that awareness had come the foreign presence in his mouth was felt, shortly thereafter hunger twisted his stomach enough to cause a grimace.
A snarl echoed in the cemetery, disrupting a few birds resting in the nearby tree. There was much on his mind though one thing hovered above the rest. Something would have to be found to satisfy this strange new hunger, new need. The image of the stone seemed burned onto his mind and it pushed him to action, the words mocking him, almost causing physical pain to rival that in his abdomen and jaw. A last punch to broken stone was given, lower lip curled in distaste, before he slunk into a more welcoming darkness.
Jared Joseph Leto
December 26, 1971 - April 9, 2009
This was no end, but a new beginning.
Fandom: Real People / 30 Seconds To Mars.
Characters: Jared Leto.
Pairing: n/a this part.
Prompt: Table 2; # 80 - Emerge. (100_situations)
Word Count: 779.
Rating: PG-13, I guess.
Warnings: Not really any this chapter. Character death but not. Future 'verse maybe?
Summary: In the words of Supernatural -- what's dead should stay dead. But what happens when it doesn't? Is it the same individual, or an entirely different incarnation of them?
Author's Notes: Sometimes ideas come to you out of nowhere. This is one of those times. My eyes were skimming something randomly, mind wandering, and all of a sudden *bam* a plot bunny starts tapping its feet like Thumper and the words just start spilling out as soon as I got a proper window open. Funny how that can happen. Now if only it happened more often, lol. And it's doubly nice when it works for one of my challenge tables.
Panic filled him, suddenly, like ice dumped into a hot bath.
His eyes were open but all he could see was thick darkness, all but tangible because of the spiraling emotions inside of him. It felt cold. He felt cold. Stillness surrounded him with the darkness and he was almost afraid to move, afraid to find out whether he could or not. He felt nothing restraining him but he didn't entirely trust his senses. So he laid there in the darkness that was quickly becoming suffocating, throat tight and dry, and strained to listen for anything that might give a clue to where he was, what had happened. All that answered him was silence.
Finally, the uncertainty grew to be too much and he raised an arm, reaching out... only to feel a satiny surface covering something hard and firm. It couldn't have been more than a few inches above him -- his arm was barely halfway extended, fingers flexed -- and he tentatively pushed, then brought up his other hand as he began to feel around. The information his sense of touch was giving him triggered a chain reaction in his head, one that had his heart racing, panic and fear flooding his being. One hand lightly knocked on the hard surface above him, holding his breath a few moments as he heard nothing in return. He experimentally stretched with both arms and legs, shivering as fear tripled.
A part of him knew though his full consciousness refused to accept what he was being told. He began to claw and hit at the surface above him, eyes wide, lips parted as harsh breaths passed through them.
As if an animal with one focus linked to survival, everything else was forgotten, nothing else registered as escape drew all focus and energy. Even sharpness pressing against the lower lip wasn't felt. A sure hint at what brought the current situation about, if only the brain were willing to fight off a fear that was nearly instinctual.
Eternity and then some seemed to pass before he rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Eyes closed tight against the weight and pressure that threatened to crush him, the body moved on autopilot, limbs constantly moving, hands constantly grabbing and pushing away. Fresh air hit his face in a cold caress, the air that next filled his lungs like water to soothe a parched throat. He sprawled in the dewy grass, chest heaving and body tingling from too much oxygen as muscles burned from overuse. However, as the panic ebbed away something new took its place.
Blue eyes that shifted hues took in the world around him, unbelieving, marveling, observing. The heavy grey stone drew his gaze, shining with rainwater, and he crawled closer though he could read the engraving clearly where he sat. Moment after moment of silence passed before knuckles gone white bore down on the stone, tight fists pummeling it to pieces. That was not the truth. He wouldn't allow it to be.
Sweat was brushed from his brow with a dirty sleeve and his nose crinkled, staring down for the first time at what clothed him. He started to think 'I wouldn't be caught dead in this.' but then stopped mid-thought and simply shook his head. Now that awareness had come the foreign presence in his mouth was felt, shortly thereafter hunger twisted his stomach enough to cause a grimace.
A snarl echoed in the cemetery, disrupting a few birds resting in the nearby tree. There was much on his mind though one thing hovered above the rest. Something would have to be found to satisfy this strange new hunger, new need. The image of the stone seemed burned onto his mind and it pushed him to action, the words mocking him, almost causing physical pain to rival that in his abdomen and jaw. A last punch to broken stone was given, lower lip curled in distaste, before he slunk into a more welcoming darkness.
Jared Joseph Leto
December 26, 1971 - April 9, 2009
This was no end, but a new beginning.