I for Immortal
"Hey, look! There something in this wreck after all! Perhaps we could finally get something into that 2nd millennium museum that our boss is trying to build." One of the workers in the silver titanium metal suits called out to the others.
"Seriously, something must have gotten into his brain. Who in the right mind would want to make us go dig in here? There's nothing except the millennium-old concrete! No idea why he wanted to waste resources here digging up 21st century junk anyways."
The two workers chatted continuously as one controlled the mechanical arm to pry up the moss-filled concrete wall. What they dug up was something that resembled a save. A metal box—or what used to be one anyways.
A thick layer of dust already covered the rusted metal, and the lock was no longer needed as oxygen already eaten up most of it. The two expected something that would cost a fortune, maybe a diamond? Or gold? Or even better, some form of oil or fuel better it ran out completely three centuries ago? Or perhaps—
A thin worthless plastic-box look-alike thing that had some back stripes in the middle that shaped like seaweed? They'd never seen something quite like that before, but since it was in a safe, perhaps they should bring it back after all…
The man pushed the tape in a small ancient plastic box, and the two watched with amusement as the tape started to run.
"Hi all," a boy's voiced boomed out of the battered machine, "This is Daniel Fenton." He chuckled dryly while the static continued. "This is the year," He pauses, "2398. I guess time passes really fast when you are no longer qualified as a mortal."
"Don't freak, I'm not some random crazy immortal-wannabe, nor am I divine or sparkle or anything. Nor am I a vampire. Or a zombie. There were so 'in' when I was still alive, kinda, with everyone else."
"All right, kids, wanna hear a ghost story? I know, I know. You're probably think: what's this fourteen-year-old boy trying to do? Well, excuse me, but I was born in 1993. Yeah, last millennium, way older than any of you are."
[Some background noise. A silent pause.]
Vaguely, the two workers and their boss marveled at the miracle how the tape survived throughout all the centuries. After all, it's already 3065! People have a long life expectancy, about 250 years. It's all the medical advances that can help to prolong one's life. Though, they were certain that this type of technology didn't exist in 21st century.
"Oh yes. I died, about three and a half centuries ago. When she did. You all wonder who she is?" More silence followed.
"She was a Goth. You know what a Goth is? It's someone who wears back, and you know, all into that dark stuff. I would know. She was wonderful—oh, and she's also an ultra-recyclo vegetarian. Something along that line."
"I could talk on this tape perfectly fine, thank you. I still have a physical body. I didn't literally die with her. But you'd know if you're still fourteen when your best friend died of old age. I'm already half dead anyways. Yeah, you're not crazy. It's true."
"I'm a half-ghost. A halfa. Someone who could fly, go intangible, invisible, with other awesome powers, blah, blah, blah. Someone who was also bestowed with a terrible curse. I could never die." More silence followed that, with a faint shout of 'master of technology' in the background.
"Oh yes, I want to die. I need to die. To pass on, finally. After so many decades, centuries, I need to move on peacefully. There are no meanings for me to live anymore. My own family and friends died so many years ago—I could never forget them. I could never forget any details of my entire life."
At this, all three men were flabbergasted, how could someone be a half ghost? Yes—they already knew ghosts exist, as the ghost zone travel business was blooming each day. But a halfa? They never heard of it before.
"I guess you won't know how it feels even if I describe it to you. Can you imagine? It was painfully obvious that I wasn't growing by the time of my high school graduation. Everyone was so curious to find out what was wrong with me that I was forced to hide. With Vlad no less.
"I was forced to stand on the sidelines when everyone grew old. My sister married a nice psychologist—at least she was happy. Sam was by herself all the way; she was one of the two that knew where I was. I was honestly surprised when Vlad Masters actually took me in; he's a half ghost too, if you are wondering. Not that it matters when he's lying in his grave now."
The three shared a quick look of disbelieve. The Vlad Masters? As in the one who was richer than Bill Gates and shaped the economic society in the 21st century? The one who seemingly disappeared when a man who looked exactly like him claimed that he was Vlad's long lost son and heir?
"So do you wonder why I record the tape in the first place? Well, Clockwork, the Master of Time predicted the start of a nuclear war that might potentially destroy humanity, and of course, I'm the one who had to rescue everyone, again. So guess what? He did some simulations, and it was said that I should go find whoever activate the tape. You probably don't know, but the tape is sending me an ectoplasmic pulse to me right now. He promised me that I would go in peace after all this insanity."
[More static, and all the sound went flat]
The boss turned around, ready to send it to the higher departments, and saw—