He looked up from his book for a moment to see a passing flock of geese. Lately, Isaac would spend much of his time staring at anything and everything around him, examining every detail of nature as if he was trying to find something he had missed his whole life. He stood up to get a better veiw from his full length panoramic windows. Windex streaked down them as one of his house maids had recently cleaned.
He panned his head downward to examine his extensive lawn, but froze as he saw an animal lying there in a mangled mess of entrails and limbs. Disgust instantly filled him and a wave of anxiety rushed throughout his body; immediately he regretted his decision to look out the window. “Muriel” he called, “on your way out can you tell Tom that there's another dead rodent on the lawn and I’d like him to remove it.” “Yes Mr. Reede, I’ll be sure to,” she responded.
Isaac always detested the sight and even the thought of death because it gave him such anxiety not knowing what would happen to him afterwards. Recently, however, this fear had been magnified when his doctor diagnosed him with stage four pancreatic cancer. “It’s largely... incurable, but you’re in a better position than most others given this diagnosis. You have access to the best radiologists and oncologists in the country and if there is ever any medical advice you need or even if you just need to talk to someone I’m always on call.” Later that night while researching the disease he found that it had a one percent five-year survival rate. At the sight of this he felt like he was going to puke but he needed to know what was going to happen to him, he couldn't be in the dark. He took one more look at the mutilated furry thing, and then went back to reading his book.
He refused to even live out his last days doing reckless activities, like skydiving or swimming with sharks. Things like this only reminded him of his imminent death, so he decided to live out his remaining time as usual. He would go to his office and do work all day. He was the CEO of a cryptanalyst company and he had invented his own coding algorithm himself which is how he made most of his money. He told his manager about his illness so that the company could start preparing for his vacancy, but he kept it a secret from his employees. If they knew he might start getting flowers on his desk every day or sympathy cards and condolences in passing while walking through the building. His manager was more distant despite his request she not treat him any differently. Possibly making it worse she was excessively nicer than usual, to the point where it became oppressive and was a constant reminder of his death. Kindness and respect for his decision on how he wanted to live out his life. The kindness became so excessive to the point where it overwhelmed him and he had to distance himself from her.
As time passed he believed that he would come to terms with the fact that he would die in the near future, but his health steadily deteriorated and with this his anxiety intensified, only speeding up the process. Barely being able to stand he was forced to live at home with an aid, which he was strongly opposed to but had no choice. It was only a week he was living at home when he received a letter in the mail.

Dear, Isaac Reede

Here at the Cryonics Institute of Miami, Florida we are dedicated to the preservation and renewal of life. Imagine a world free of disease, aging, and death. We believe that day is coming, and presently cryonics is our best way of getting there. Our team of Cryogenist are the leading scientists in their field and have been perfecting the storage and long term suspension of human life for decades. By way of cooling the body temperature to lower than that of liquid nitrogen, aging processes can be halted and the spread of disease can be stopped until a later date where revival would be possible and cures would be available. We’ve heard about your unfortunate diagnosis and think that we hold the solution to your current condition. If you are interested in a potentially unlimited lifespan, we invite you to fly down to Miami and visit our facility.

Sincerely, the Cryonic Institute Research Team

“What is that that you got in the mail sir?” the nurse inquired. She’d never seen him actually read any of the mail, normally he would pay no attention and throw it aside immediately, assuming it would just remind him of his situation. “Just more sympathy cards and consolation letters,” he said absentmindedly. Although he was anything but absent minded at the moment. A purely euphoric feeling flowed through him at the thought of possibly never again having to dread his own death. Rather than tell his doctor and ask his opinion or have a discussion with his nurse, he elected to buy a plane ticket to Miami and leave that night.
Barely managing the trip there, he hired a plethora of medical personnel to assist in transporting him to the lab where he’d have the procedure done. When he arrived it was much warmer than what he was used to. “Hello, I’m Isaac Reede and just yesterday I received this from your team of scientists here saying that my preservation was possible until a cure could be found for my cancer,” he said holding up and pointing to the letter.
“Hello Mr. Reede, that is correct. I’m glad you’ve decided to choose cryonics as your course of action for treatment,” the scientist said in a pleased manner. “Often people underestimate how valuable it can be if utilized correctly. You can wait over there and Dr. Ivy will be out to explain the details of the procedure so that you may make your final decision,” the man said and then exited the room.
He was left in a small waiting room that had little lighting. He sat for a long time and noticed he grew colder the longer he waited. It became a bone chilling feeling like they were already trying to preserve him right where he sat; this combined with the lack of lighting gave the institute an ominous atmosphere. His heart started beating a little faster and his hand began to tremor. He gripped the sides of the chair to steady them while his heart beat continued to intensify. He could feel it pounding on the inside of his chest and became more aware of his breathing as its rate increased. Suddenly, A man jolted open the door, startling him, and making him jump back for a brief moment.
The man greeted him saying, “Hello, Mr. Reede, my associate tells me you are interested in our cryogenic preservation. How have you been recently in terms of your health conditions?” He was still trying to calm himself down from the startling entrance the man made but spoke right away answering, “Well I’ve had to resign from my position as CEO at my company and I have been living with a nursing aide in my house for the past month; my health seems to be declining faster and faster.”
Dr. Ivy was silent for a moment examining him, “I see, and that’s is why you came here so quickly after receiving our letter, correct?” “Yes,” he responded, “I want to get the procedure done as soon as possible.” “Excellent, and have you discussed this decision with your family?” he inquired. “I haven’t talked to my parents in years, they aren’t even aware of my illness,” he matter-of-factly stated. “I understand,” he said sincerely, “any children or a significant other you would be leaving behind?” “I never had children or married. I was engaged for a year but things just died out... Will this present a problem with the procedure?” he asked. “No, not at all, our team would just like to make sure that any loved ones are made aware of the decision before procedure,” he explained.
“If you could just fill this out while I explain the details for the procedure we can continue with the process,” handing him a consent and payment form. “We cannot guarantee what is on the other side of you waking up from this. All of us will be long gone by then. I understand that you want to have this procedure done right away but I urge you to leave and take a day or two to consider the implications of leaving your body to be awoken possibly hundreds of years from now,” He asserted emphatically. “But, if you truly want the procedure done in as little time as possible we can begin preparing you this evening; you will have to stay overnight of course, and we will monitor your vitals so that in the morning we can begin your preservation. If all goes as planned, we can have the process completed by tomorrow afternoon,” he said with a warm smile.
While Dr. Ivy explained this to him, Isaac kept his head down for the most part trying to internalize everything he was telling him, as it was a life or death decision. When he looked up for a moment he saw Dr. Ivy’s eyes flitting around to look about the room and he wondered if the institute made him feel as uneasy as it did him. The thought passed quickly and he waited for Dr. Ivy to finish speaking. “I appreciate your concern but I would like my preparation for the procedure to begin today,” he answered adamantly. Dr. Ivy gave him an anguished look and responded, “alright… in that case please follow me this way.”
He led Isaac through the door Dr. ivy entered from. They walked down a long corridor with a few turns and many doors along the walls. Dr. Ivy began to slow down and stopped as they arrived at the room he would stay in. A smudged gold plate engraved “ROOM 679” was secured to the front of the door. He opened the door and the room was nicer than he expected, much nicer than your standard hospital room. The floor was carpeted and the windows had drapes hanging from them. Dr. Ivy left and he went straight to bed.
In the middle of the night he woke up and heard the voices of two people outside his room, presumably the same two men that checked his vitals before bed that evening. He couldn’t discern what they were saying as it was muffled by the door. The light was on in the hallway and it cast shadows from their feet through the slit between the carpet and the door. The shadows danced around under the door whenever one of the scientists changed stance or moved around. The shadows, he thought to himself, moved like they were their own sentient beings, not just by products of one. As he stared at them longer he realized that, they could be their own entity and he would have no way of knowing whether or not they were merely shadows, or real tangible creatures from where he was. This thought was cut short by the scientists walking in to check his vitals as they needed to throughout the night.
In the morning he was awoken by a man lifting his arm to take his blood pressure and then he was led down the corridor to the room with the cryogenic chamber.
The man opened the door.. Dr. Ivy was already there, standing over a tray with some jars full of fluids. One of which he filled a syringe with and flicked so that any bubbles inside would rise and escape.
Dr. Ivy turned to see him and gave him the same warm smile he saw when he first met him. “Isaac, you can come sit right over here while I administer your shots,” he pointed to a spot on the bed-like platform inside of the chamber he would be frozen in. He went over and sat down, examining the machine. It was a cylinder raised off of the ground and oriented horizontally with the top-half ajar. “How are you feeling today?” Dr. Ivy asked. “Relieved… I haven’t felt this at peace since before my diagnosis,” he responded. “Good, good. Alright if you can lay down I can give you the anesthetic and then all that’s left to do is close the chamber,” Dr. Ivy said in a lighthearted way. He laid down in the chamber, then Dr. Ivy leaned in, close to Isaac’s ear, whispering, “...it isn’t too late, you can still leave.” “Why would I want to lea-” he was interrupted. “You need to leave. Please go, run out the door!” Dr. Ivy’s voice grew louder, “RUN.”
He heard a gunshot and saw blood splatter all over the underside of the top to his chamber. Dr. Ivy’s body fell forwards, forcing the top of the chamber shut.

SLAM

At first he laid there, not knowing what had happened. Then a drop of blood dripped from the top of the chamber and landed on his cheek. Instantly, he snapped out of his state of shock. Adrenaline began pumping through his veins as his heart rate spiked and his breathing became sporadic. He looked helplessly around the chamber for a latch with which he could grab and release himself. With each passing moment, every movement he made became more hysterical and erratic until he was kicking, punching and shouting, emptying every ounce of air from his lungs.
He was trapped in there until someone got him out and he had no idea what happened to the man whose blood he saw splatter all over the cover of his chamber. He could feel the temperature decreasing as he lost consciousness. Trying to fight it was impossible. As his heart rate started to slow down he slipped into a dreamless, eternal sleep. Darkness.

A burning light began to filter through his eyelids. Slowly the brightness increased. There was someone calling his name, but they sounded as faint as if they were a half-mile away. Then he felt a hand grasp his numb forearm and gradually the voice he was hearing became more audible until it became evident the speaker he was hearing was sitting right beside him. With his eyes still shut tightly to prevent anymore light from entering he tried to call out to whoever was there. No sound left his mouth and the pain from trying to vocalize felt like his throat was being  kneaded with gravel.
The person began helping him sit up on the side of the platform. Suddenly, the voice became clear, as if he was emerging from a pool of water. He recognized the voice, but he could not determine who it was that was helping him or what they were saying. As his pupils dilated and the pain from the light diminished, he was able to open his eyes a slits width, just enough to make out a silhouette of the figure sitting beside him. At the same time the memory of what had happened just as the chamber closed came back to him in full and he was filled with fear that this may be the assailant that killed Dr. Ivy. Recoiling, he tried to move away from the figure but his limbs were still numb and his body was unable to coordinate any movement between them. Regaining a little more of his sight he was able to see that it was a man. Forcing his eyes to open further so he could determine whether he was in danger or not, he saw, just barely, the face of Dr. Ivy.
Astonished, he tried to ask how this could be? But, no words would come out of his mouth still. Faintly, he heard him say “Isaac… Isaac, can you hear me?” he spastically shook his head still not having full control over his motor functions. “Good, heres a glass of water, it should make it easier to speak in a couple of minutes,” he said as he handed him the glass. Dr. Ivy explained that he was almost two-hundred years in the future. He told him about all of the advancements that have been made in that time, including the ones in medicine that allowed them to cure him of his cancer. Isaac listened and took it all in while he sipped water, his hands shaking from trying to steady glass.
After his a few minutes, he regained the ability to speak. In a hoarse voice he said, “b-but… I saw you, you were dead, you yelled for me to get out of here, and then you got shot, how are you here?” Dr. Ivy gave him a look of confusion and discontent. “Hm, it sounds like you were under a lot of stress when we put you into the chamber. Other patients we’ve woken have reported hallucination-like experiences such as yours. No, no I’m perfectly fine as you you can see. Two years after you were preserved, I decided to also extend my life and get cryogenically frozen until immortality became possible,” Dr Ivy responded. He knows something is off now because he remembers being perfectly calm before the procedure began, “But, if we are two hundred years in the future why does everything around in the room look the same?” he inquired. “The research team decided to protect the building and the site it was built on from being changed in any way in the hope that with all of the familiar sights around them, the patients will be less likely to go into shock when they are first woken,” Dr. Ivy explained. He still felt like something was off but accepted what Dr. Ivy told him because it did make sense.
“C’mon, let me show you outside,” Dr. Ivy said with a smile, but the smile was different from how he remembered it; it didn’t have the same warmth. Dr. Ivy led him down the corridor he entered the room through and on the way they passed by the room he stayed in the night before he was frozen. When he looked at the “ROOM 679” sign as he passed, he realized that the smudge he noticed before was gone. He assumed that they must’ve come through and cleaned everything even though Dr. Ivy said nothing had been touched. As he continued to follow, he became more anxious that something was terribly wrong with the situation, but a sudden feeling of contentedness came over him and he forgot about anything that was bothering him.
When they reached the main entrance, he stepped outside. He was amazed by the sights of vehicles in traffic passing over his head and gleaming buildings that seemed to reach to infinity. No one was walking on the ground as they were, everyone was flying overahead.
“So what do you think?” Dr. Ivy asked with a cheerful tone. “It’s... absolutely astounding,” he replied. “This is just the beginning. Next, I’ll take you to a clinic where they can inject you with an anti-aging serum to make you immortal,” he told him, “but, before we go I just need you to tell me about the coding algorithm you invented again. I want to know how it was constructed and how I could predict the right inputs. “What?” he asked, confused as to why Dr. Ivy would bring that up, especially at this very moment. “Don’t you want to be immortal? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? To never die. All I need is for you to tell me how it works, how does the algorithm work?” he repeated.
Still confused as to what was going on, he felt the same feeling of contentedness that came over him before, but he fought it this time and remained focused on Dr. Ivy. His suspicion that something was off grew more urgent. He examined Dr. Ivy’s face and looked all around him.
“Well?!,” Dr. Ivy exclaimed, when just then, he saw something. “You… you don't have a shadow! Where is your shadow?!,” Isaac yelled at him. Dr. Ivy’s expression became blank and he just stood there. The vehicles overhead stopped whizzing by and the lighting began to dim. Isaac ran around the corner of the building to look down the street. The building became less defined on this side, almost grainy, and the street too. As he looked farther off into the distance he couldn't see anything at all, just blank, empty space.
Then, it all went black.
“Isaac,” he hears a voice call from seemingly everywhere. He doesn’t understand where he is or why he can’t see anything. He looks around for the owner of the voice but sees know one. In fact, he does not see anything, not even his own body. He raises what should be where his hand is to touch what should be where his face is but he is met with the strangest feeling; it is as if he does not have either of those body parts anymore.
“Isaac,” he hears once again. “You’ve figured out that this isn’t real, so we are going to explain to you what is happening,” the voice called down to him. “Who are you! What are you!” he shouted into the void. “We are the team of scientists who sent you the letter to be cryogenically preserved. After you were frozen, we immediately took your body out of the chamber and removed your brain. It is now in a petri dish being controlled by electrical impulses that we are producing and directing. I can control your senses, your emotion, your thoughts, and I can inflict an infinite amount of pain just by stimulating the right part of your brain,” the man said as he slowly increased the impulses reaching his insular cortex.
Immediately, the spot where Isaac’s head should’ve been started throbbing and where his knees use to be began to ache. Soon the pain became immense and unbearable, seizing any actions like thinking and speaking that he could still perform. Barely he was able moan out, “What do you want.”
“We only want your cooperation,” said the voice,” we forced Dr. Ivy to perform the procedure on you and we did kill Dr. Ivy, as he was trying to help you escape. We will do the same to you if you do not cooperate.” “I will... cooperate,” he squeezed out, and the pain lessened as he could feel the immense weight of it being lifted off of him. “We need you to tell us everything you know about the coding algorithm you invented. It is currently being used at a military base to produce new keypad codes every day. The codes protect data on new weaponry that could be sold to countries around the world for billions of dollars. If you tell us how the system you invented work, we could break into this database and obtain the information we need.” the voice explained.
“I can’t… I can’t tell you, not if that is what you are going to do,” he said reluctantly. “Then you are forcing us to kill you,” the voice responded. He felt the pain start to take over again and he said immediately, “I’ll tell you! I’ll explain everything!”
And so he did, explaining every facet of the coding algorithm so that they would be able to predict the codes it made on any given day. When he finished the voice thanked him for the information.
“So you will let me live now, right?” he asked with his anxiety levels skyrocketing. “Of course, I always keep my word,” the voice replied, and then he could sense it was gone.
He realized at that moment that he was indeed alive. It was like closing your eyes, only you could not taste, smell, feel, or touch anything. There was only your thoughts. He was cured of his disease and he avoided death, but he was trapped in complete darkness for the rest of his life.