• Published 16th Aug 2012
  • 4,341 Views, 100 Comments

The Last Of The Ancients - spiderkink



Follow Jason as he attempts to cope with his immortality, not to mention waking up in a world run b

  • ...
13
 100
 4,341

Prologue


Prologue


Darkness. All I can see is darkness. Well, maybe 'see' isn't the correct term here. I suppose I can 'sense' it more than anything else. Because I can't open my eyes yet, I will Try to explain how I got here.

I can't remember what I was doing before I got here.... Oh! Okay, I think I can remember now. Human. I'm a human, or at least I was, or thought I was anyway. Sometime during my 23rd year everything changed for me. My name is... or was, Jason. I was pretty normal compared to most. Lived in an apartment with my two roommates, worked at an office, plenty of friends and family. I've lost track of time since then. I think I began to notice the changes during 2012. Anyway, I lived a good life... before everything changed.

Well, 'lack' of change really. Hair stopped growing longer, couldn't keep it shorter for long, You know, stuff like that. Things passed normally for awhile. Except for the whole 'stopped aging' thing. But I wasn't the only one to notice this however. My friends and family began to notice this soon enough. I managed to stall them for a few years by blaming it on 'anti aging' products. But that could only work for so long. My family and friends began to distance themselves from me. While I stayed as I was in my 23-year-old body, my sister and childhood friends were all in their fifties.

Soon, everyone I had known had passed away from old age or otherwise. I was forced to move away to escape suspicion from neighbors and others I knew. But fate would only stay in your favor for so long before it changed as well. There was an accident. Myself and three others were involved. An explosion. The others were killed instantly while I simply walked out, completely unharmed. Not a scratch on me.

The doctors examined me. And I use the term 'examined' loosely. More like 'experiment'. They did everything they possibly could, short of cutting me open. I was terrified. Now, granted, I also wanted to know what had happened to me too. But I had been hoping for something less grotesque. Finally I was done being tested on. Or so I thought.

I was strapped to an examination table. Titanium cuffs strapped to my wrists and ankles. An I.V. in my arm, and many different pads attached to my legs, chest, and forehead. I was facing away from the door. I remember hearing footsteps getting closer from behind the door. I heard the door open and slam shut. Then a voice from behind me. "Hello Jason. I am d-doctor Andrew Nelson a-and I am here t-to conduct the f-final test." I could easily tell that he was VERY nervous for some reason. Now, I don't know about you, but when your doctor is so nervous he's stuttering, it tends to make me just as nervous too. "Hey doc', why so nervous?" I asked him. He then came into view in front of me and replied. "Because of the task my superiors have given me." He had a grim expression on his face. I really didn't like that look. Like a man who is given no other choice. "Listen doc', I've been here for almost five hours strapped to this damned table. I'll admit that I'm gettin' a little anxious here." I told him. His next words did not alleviate my previously voiced concerns in the slightest. "I'm terribly sorry Jason. But I have no choice in what I am about to do to you. I can only hope that you can forgive me for this. Because I know for sure that God won't."

Okay, I was nervous before. But now? Now I was fucking hysterical. Before I could 'protest' (and by 'protest' I mean thrash around while screaming like a banshee) he pulled out a large needle filled with dark green liquid. Now, it didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what that stuff was. It was most likely a lethal dose of poison. Because if I told anyone about the procedures they did with me, they would be sued, imprisoned, and executed. not likely in that order. I had calmed down now, no point in resisting now. Might as well make it as painless as possible for all of us. I was resigned to my fate now. He muttered an "I'm sorry" and brought the needle to the I.V. Time seemed to slow down as he pushed down the plunger on the needle. It seemed to take minutes but in reality it took seconds. I closed my eyes and prepared for death. It was a little cold for awhile. But after a few seconds, nothing. I opened my eyes to see the doctor staring at me, baffled.

"That was supposed to kill me wasn't it?" I asked him. "Yes, yes it was." He replied. So i asked "So what now?" I was trying not to laugh at this point. But I could save it for later. " Um... w-well... Okay, I have no idea. I was supposed to perform an autopsy on you..." he replied. I did laugh now. " hahahaha! So what's stopping you?! The moment you tried to kill me is the moment you threw ethics and morals out the fucking window!" I burst out laughing again.

Me and my big fucking mouth.






Two weeks. Two weeks of non-stop pain and torture. They would cut me open, poke around a bit inside me, and cut tissue samples out of me. Generous samples at that. The worst part? I couldn't pass out or sleep during these experiments. They ended up gagging me and wearing headphones to block out my screams of pain.

Then one day I heard a crash, followed by an explosion and gunfire. The door suddenly burst off it's hinges while men dressed in full black body armor and ballistic helmets stormed through. They unstrapped me and carried me through hallways and corridors littered with dead guards and medical staff. There were a few bodies that i recognized. Like Those of Doctor Nelson and the staff that cut me up all those times. I allowed myself a brief smile when I saw that. First smile in weeks. It wasn't long before I could hear the tell tale whooshing sounds of helicopter blades from outside. The men dragging me carried me to the helicopter and strapped me in.

Once in the air, I actually looked at my rescuers. They wore all black combat armor, bandoliers full of ammo and flash grenades, and strapped to them were an assortment of MP5's and M16's. The soldier directly in front of me then handed me a headset and I put it on.

"Can you hear me Jason?" He asked me through the headset. I replied "Yes sir." He shook his head at that. "Don't call me 'sir'. From what I understand, you're old enough to be my grandfather." He was right. By then I was eighty-three years old. Seems so young compared to now. "Sorry sir" He face-palmed."Ugh. What did I just say? Never mind."

A new voice chimed in through my headset. "Jason Derahn, my name is Lt. General Sands." a gruff voice was saying from my headset. He continued. "I'm very sorry for what those scientists did to you in there. I shudder to imagine the horrors that you've been through in th--"I cut him off here.

"excuse me Mr. Sands" I interrupted. "But just what do you hope to gain by assisting me? If I've learned anything it's that everything comes with a price." I said bluntly.

"straight to the point hmm? I like that." Sands said. "Well son, I thin--" I interrupted again.

"Mr. Sands, as your subordinate stated earlier, I am much older than I look. Please refrain from calling me 'son'. If anything, that is what I should be calling you." The silence from the other end told me that I was pushing his buttons. Another thing that I've gotten good at.

"Yes, of course Mr. Derahn. I understand. As I was saying. I think you could be a valuable asset to us. The United States could use you on the battlefield." He said. 'Of course' I thought. 'They'll try to kill me with war instead of scalpels' "Of course, we'll teach you to wage war and defend yourself as well as those you care about." Sands added.

That got my attention. I already know some martial arts, But I'm no expert. It didn't take me long to decide. "I'll do it." I told him.

"Now I know you'll need some time to dec- what?!" He said, surprised.

"I said I'll do it Mr. Sands." I repeated. He actually began to stutter.

"A-are you s-sure? This is no easy decision." He stated.

"I'm sure. Mr. Sands, I have no intention of getting captured and tested on again." He paused a moment.

"Good, good. As soon as you land your training will begin."



I fought for almost twelve years. For multiple countries and reasons. I was unstoppable now. Of course, being immortal helps would probably help with that. I was always sent on the worst suicide and impossible missions available. I couldn't die, so why not? I was a weapon of mass-destruction. A weapon of war. 'super soldier' didn't do me justice. More like 'demigod'. Because of this, I was feared throughout humanity. But soon, I managed to bring peace to us. Although not the way I was hoping for.

The most powerful armies banded together to capture me. Although they couldn't kill me, they could trap me. They built a three foot thick titanium box, threw me in, encased me in cement, and buried me.

So here I am, in a metal box, underground. I've stopped counting the years. Lost track at 200. I'm getting tired now. Really tired. Maybe I can sleep now. Sleep sounds good. So....tired....

Author's Note:

I'm not really sure where this story will go. I'll be updating this at random times. Pretty much whenever I feel like it. I get writer's block a lot, so bear with me.

Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!
Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!