The Risen

Chapter 1: Experiment 023

        I stare at an old, dead dude who died a day ago. His body is encased in a thin layer of ice to help prevent the smell. What little hair he has left is in an ugly comb-over, and his dark eyes stare blank and glassy up at the ceiling above. He is experiment 023.   

       My dad is a scientist who works for the government. They are trying to get him to bring people back to life. Right now he is brewing a complicated chemical substance that I can't even begin to comprehend.

       We are in a big lab beneath our basement in our house. The ceiling is low, lit by a few naked bulbs, but the lab stretches fifty feet long. Shoved against the walls are tables with sheets of untidy notes, cases with chemicals and glass beakers, a stove, a microwave, and an oven, since my dad has a habit of losing track of time and skipping meals, so he usually eats in this lab. There are also sharp tools and inventions that I have been warned not to touch.

        My dad is a small man, about 5 foot 10. He has brown, untidy hair and hazel eyes set behind glasses with black rims. He's a crazy math genius who's obsessed with chemistry. He has a habit of tuning out everything except his work.   

       "Electricity...chemicals...hmmm...no, that wouldn't do...AHA!" Dad shouts, making me jump. I should be used to his excited outbursts by now. They usually come after a long time of mumbling and condradicting himself.

       "Ok, I think this is it!" he exclaims. I don't mention to him that he says this before every experiment, most of which fail.

        Dad shuts off the machine keeping the old man blanketed in ice.

       He takes the dark liquid in a giant glass beaker and begins filling syringes with the chemicals, his hands shaking slightly with excitement. My dad then positions the syringes on mechanical arms that he perfected himself (after several explosions), making sure they are hovering over the dead man's body. My dad picks up a remote with multiple brightly colored buttons. He presses a purple one, and the syringes begin to descend upon the dead old man. The needles break the skin in multiple places. Dad presses another button and compartments open in the side of the mechanical arms, revealing tiny little chrome hands that push the plungers down on the syringes. One more button, and the mechanical arms retract, taking the syringes with them.

       Dad quickly grabs a vial of ugly brown liquid and pours it over 023's body. The he hauls out a bunch of silver wires with suction cups attached every half a foot.

       "Holli, can you help me? This has to be done before five minutes have passed," Dad tells me. I nod and we start to wrap the wire around the old man's bony frame, attaching suction cups to his skin. Finally my dad plugs the end of the wire into an electrical outlet. He snatches up the remote again and presses the green button. Nothing happens. We wait.

       Dad sighs. "Another day, wasted." 

       He stares sadly at the old man, who now looks like a modern day mummy. Then he jumps in surprise and covers his eyes at the bright light that has filled the formerly dimly lit lab. My teeth chatter with the intensity of the electrical charge in the room. I can feel the hair on my arms rising slowly with a prickly sensation.

      Dad starts counting. "...nineteen...twenty!" he shouts. He jabs his finger on the red button on the remote and the charge stops. The light leaves the room, leaving me blind for a second in its absence.

       Dad looks eagerly at the old man. A grunt. Then struggling.

       "Come on, come on! Help me untangle him!" Dad instructs. We hastily unwrap the wires and pry the suction cups off the old man, who is now farting and kicking his legs.