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bates--boy · 4 years ago

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At least, it felt like a dragging. A sensation of being pulled through a millennia of distance and astral history, the rush of heat and static silence encircling him like a tunnel. It felt like the universe was giving birth to him, which matched the snapping back and forth between planes not one bit.

Lights swept before him and fell away, throwing Peter under the new Black Hole, where if the ribbons of souls weren't latching in to him to come back to the living for their rebirth, then they were writhing all over him to pull him back; and back to his living room, where a cluster of nude and glowing humans pinned them down to his rug.

"Rrraaaagghh!" Peter pushed his energy outward, to blow his captors away as he chased the channel to take him back to the dead realm. The souls wrenched him back; one of the bastards even ripped the antiparticle right out of his palm and forced it back into the rabid false vacuum from which it came.

He jerked his body, twisting, yanking on his arms and flinging out his legs, hissing air through his grinding teeth. "Let go of me!" He cried out to the strained faces hovering above him. He swallowed only a shallow, shuddering breath. "Let go!"

Keep this son of a bitch here!

Child, you need to calm down!

Goddamn, kid, you tryna end the universe or some'un?!

Even through the hazy redness of his vision, Peter could tell that his presence in the Void was weakening. The souls' realm faded, with the Black Hole becoming translucent against the solid light fixture in his ceiling. He willed his wounds to stay and flowing.

"This isn't over!" He screeched, before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Just before he broke skin and flesh to feed the channel, the back of a hand struck his cheek. He blinked, finding himself dizzy even as he switched realms. Through the steadily growing ringing in his ears, he heard a gentle voice.

I'm sorry, Peter, this is for your own good.

And he saw brown eyes, those gentle, warm brown eyes, dance up from him to the accomplices pinning him.

Do it!

They pressed their hands on the open wounds--

Their searing hands, with touches so gentle yet so unrelenting.

Peter threw his head back and opened his mouth.

He didn't know what to call this new world, a place of blinding whiteness. If he had a clear mind, he would guess that it was that coveted channel between the realms, the road taken by the spirits of the passed.

The brine and burning flesh in the still air choked him and stung his eyes.

It went back to the living realm. Another face, lined with age and too many bar fights, hovered above him among the souls.

He flashed back and forth, swinging from the white in-between to the living plane until, to his horror that still rang through his mindless pain, they began to meld together.

In the white, he could hear the voice of what he was certain was his elderly neighbor, demanding call an ambulance! In his living room, he watched a pair of slippers hurry back and forth at some point above his head, a whimpering woman blubbering in high-pitched Swedish We heard him crying and shouting from downstairs and--. In the pool of voices, someone cried out He's burning up! I think he's dying!

You better not die on me!

In the white, he heard wailing, and panicked as his body tossed around. He fazed back into the living, to a weaker light dancing from one of his eyes to the other. Sir, can you tell me your name? The soft voice asked as something pinched the back of his hand.

Peter was sure he gave it, he just couldn't hear his own voice.

Hook him to a ventilator!

Coolness filled his chest, weaving throughout his body to the tips of his fingers; he could cry from the relief.

--diac arrest, severe dehydration, seizure, fever, possible radiation poi--

Shit, he still need to kill off those black holes.

Peter, enough with the black holes!

Why's he going on about black holes?

Focus!

His vision swam to blue-masked faces flying everywhere, stabbing him with needles and sticking wires to his skin; one pressed steel plates to his bare chest.

Clear!

His body jerked in the white. Over and over. Each time he heard Clear! he had the mind to lock his body up in preparation, but no ability to do so.

And damn that ringing! An endless squeal piercing his head and he can't fucking think, god! He needed to get back to the fight. Let him go!

Stabilize him! We're losing him!

He could fucking scream--!

Hush, baby...

#rage against the singularity saga #droid noodles ( writing )#long post #sci fi #hetalia

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