The Resurrection Gauntlet
by Onyx
PROLOGUE
The lab was completely quiet, save for the faint hum of machinery
in the background. How misleading, the sounds of silence thought
the scientist as he smiled serenely over his latest work.
The room was dark except for the single tube which lay in
the center, glowing a mellow white that almost obscured the
occupant within. He had turned off every light on purpose
in fact, leaving only the computer screens and indicator switches
that were absolutely necessary in order to better view his
latest masterpiece. She wasn't exquisitely lovely, he thought
as his eyes traced the contours of her face, though there
was certainly something alluring about the curve of her jaw,
the jut of her chin. Too pale, perhaps, with her skin that
had never seen the sun. It gave her a waxy sort of cast, he
thought and then chuckled at the irony of the comparison.
She was real enough, and her chest rose and fell with the
rhythm of normal breathing, but she had been sculpted from
raw material, molded, one might say, into the image that she
now presented.
"I always thought it a bit of a waste to see you go
in such a passive way, my dear," he spoke to the unconscious
body, almost affectionately. "I always thought you destined
for better things. But now you serve a higher power with your
new life, and a better goal. You will make a lovely pawn."
His faint smile reappeared, and with the closest thing he
ever felt to excitement, he pushed the button to open the
tube. The hiss that broke the silence was almost startling
in its loudness, the lid breaking free and falling aside.
Tendrils of white mist lingered about her form for a moment
more before dissolving away into nothingness, revealing her
bare flesh and shocking her lungs with their first real drawing
of air.
Coughing and rasping with her first newborn breath, pale
blue eyes flickered, then opened, regarding him with the shock
all babies must feel when they are pushed out into the world
kicking and screaming. Yes, the comfort of the womb was passed,
he thought as he reached down to stroke her pale cheek with
one cold finger.
"Welcome to the world, my dear." And then, although
it was an expression that would strike fear into the hearts
of many, the man known as Nathaniel Essex smiled brightly,
most pleased.
Continued in Chapter
1
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