My Pet Human {UNDER SERIOUS EDITING}

Chapter One: 'Godpheus Mathews'

Godpheus Mathews stared in wonder at the tiny figure enclosed in a tall, glass cylinder. It was fully submerged in a gelatinous yellow coloured liquid and was scaled to fit neatly in the scientist's palm. The miniscule body didn't move inside its prison of glass, but once it was fully functioning, Godpheus (or God, as his friends called him) would be a medical genius. The first man alive to create a living, breathing species of creature. He wasn't particularly sure of what people could do with such a tiny being- it was hardly Laquanian. Yet God remained as mesmerised as ever as he peered intently at his miniature creation. His eyes were focussed enough to catch the tiniest of movements as the man inside the cylinder twitched his stick-like legs.

Impossible.

The liquid surrounding it wouldn't have jump-started its blood cells just yet. The creature wasn't supposed to wake until... he hadn't really planned that far. I should know this by now. He thought to himself angrily. God himself had created the viscous liquid as his previous experiment. He'd deemed it the 'Life Curer', and essentially, it did just what the name suggested: stimulated life or in this surprising incidence, brought back the dead.

Glancing at his wristwatch, he sighed grudgingly and returned to his desk, where his LCom rested. It was a thin rectangular touch screen device that glowed a brilliant blue when activated. Once, he'd owned a computer but with a constant holographic image of his research illuminating the room, it hadn't lasted long. The room itself was furnished with the basics of a science lab: white walls, fluorescent light bulbs overhead, metal benches bordering the room, test tubes and miscellaneous concoctions of different liquids strewn across them, scattered files, a blackboard for his notes... and a full length mirror.

He leant back in his chair sleepily and met the eyes of his reflection. God was a tall, lean man, with a neatly shaved chin and shaggy brown hair. He was fairly attractive for someone of his age, although had never bothered to choose a proper mate. Being holed up in his laboratory for almost a third of his life didn't exactly appeal to women, anyway. Besides, he'd reasoned. It would hold up my research.

He blinked twice at the mirror to clear his vision. Godpheus looked almost identical to the average man, except he, and every other Laquanian that occupied planet earth, had the same eyes. No irises or pupils; always the same glowing blue/white almond shapes. He could see, of course, and focus correctly, but his eyes didn't follow the movements of his surroundings, or give any indication he was looking directly at something. It was the norm for his race, anyway. It had been for many centuries, and would never change.

Just as God had drifted off to sleep, a familiar gruff voice startled him. He sat up to see his firsthand associate, Barnabas, step into view. The gangly man held two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands and offered one to his boss. At twenty-five years of age, God's associate was one of the few people he could withstand, let alone hold a conversation with. His antisocial tendencies were at the very least hindered by the freckled, red haired man.

"Sorry, boss. Just seeing how you're doing with your," Barnabas gestured to the creature submerged in the Life Curer, "Project."

God took a long sip of his coffee and sighed nonchalantly. "Yes, it's responding well to the serum. Should show signs of life in the next hour or so."

Barnabas smiled widely. "That's great, sir. Glad it's working out. I reckon those tiny dudes'll be a big hit!"

A thought struck Godpheus. "Oh, yes. I was actually hoping you could help me name the... erm... species." He said.

"Huh?" Barnabas shot him an odd look. "You haven't already thought up a name?"

"No." God admitted awkwardly. "But I have inserted a bug into this one's brain which makes it completely loyal to me."