Prologue (Rishi)

Things go bad for a doctor that should have made a BLT instead of an outlandish ghoul.

Rishi Patel had completed his final project of the night. Despite his weariness the neurotomist knew he was close to finalizing his experiment on test subject "L". 

 She looked to be of standard Midwest Fare. Plump with amateur bleach blonde dyed hair. Middle aged and relatively insignificant and frumpy. Her bulbous nose and checks were a myriad of broken blood vessels. Indicating a propensity to drink.

 Obviously something had gone awry during the implantation of his manufactured cells. Despite exhaustive MRI scans the brain tissue was reacting like a tube of tepid meat loaf  under the careful scrutinization of the sophisticated scanner. 

 Wiping frustrated sweat from his eyes and cursing his machinery Rishi managed to swipe his iPhone off the desk behind him and compose a text for the beautiful girl he had been courting since Halloween when he met her at a drunken frat party. Quite possibly being the only positive thing that had ever transpired after such a gathering. He remembered the night vividly.

 He had been nursing a plastic glass of spiked punch on a soiled couch in a small den. Outdated textbooks and empty beer cans filled the many bookshelves. A used condom had dried into an odd latex pancake on the floor. He studied the couch again wary of the numerous stains.

He was back to his familiar tactic of basically avoiding social graces and mulling over his work. While silently reflecting a Caucasian girl with fawn colored hair and glaringly pale skin had sauntered in and sat next to him. She had enough freckles to draw attention but not enough to deter a suitor. Her eyes were lively and full of mischief. Suddenly she laughed.

 "Do you always come to parties to be alone?"

 Rishi took a sip of punch and smiled nervously.

 "This is all part of my strategy." he had replied "I sulk in a quiet room until some cute girl mistakes it for a bathroom and wanders in. Then after plying her with strong drink I make my move. I talk about my research until she falls asleep then I drag her home by the hair to my cave."

 The girl smiled. 

 "Sounds kinky." the girl said while pursing her lips "I'm Becca."

 "Rishi." he said while extending a hand.

 They shook hands and the touch lingered. The girl felt electric.

 "Tell me about this research of yours."

 "I'm not kidding about my research. It'll put you to sleep."

 "Good. Then I'll put my head on your lap so I'm comfortable."

 Becca laid down on the couch and settled her head on the young researchers lap. He stirred instantly and shifted nervously. 

 "Go on." she prompted.

 Rishi thought for a moment. Usually he didn't talk shop. Especially with strangers. Not only was he protective of his work but their were some "legalities" involved. Specifically with the stem cells and how he obtained them. There was a reason he did his research next to the campus and attended these functions. Networking.

 He had gained access to a plethora of equipment and "raw materials" over the last two years. Most of which had been supplied by fresh college students eager to please and wanting to be a part of something bigger. 

 They were excited and positive. Not yet worn down to a dull nub by redundant research and consistent failure. He was able to kept them enthralled by exaggerating data and manipulating small victories. Eventually they lost interest and slowly wandered off to pursue new endeavors; but a new crop of vibrant students sprouted every semester. 

 Rishi currently had three graduate students working on his project and their gathering skills were invaluable. The university bred this crop of minions and Rishi was just the man to hand pick the best of the harvest. He was a determined sociopath that loved his assistants and appreciated their efforts; as much as a sociopath can love anything.

 He looked down at the girl. She was staring back in interest.

 "What's your major?" he asked.

 "International Studies." she replied laughing again.

 Rishi liked that laugh. It was easy and calming. She'd probably be a great assistant at some embassy when she graduated. This meant he could speak freely about his work. And he liked talking about his work to people who weren't able to understand it. It was like unloading adult problems onto a child. They had no comprehension of what you were saying but at the end you felt better regardless.

 "I'm a neurotomist." 

 "Like brain neurons?" Becca asked. 

 Rishi smiled and placed a tentative hand on her hair. He stroked it slowly. Her eyes shut.

 "Yes. Exactly like that. You see, the brain is full of neurons. And up until not so long ago we thought neurons died once and were lost forever. Now we're realizing that isn't so."

 "Can you replace the brain cells I lost from this punch?" she giggled while holding up her plastic cup.

 Rishi stiffened. She had hit a nerve. Alcohol was one of the ingredients in his work.

 "Yes I can. It isn't simple though. It requires stem cells and extensive testing."

 "Isn't it illegal to use stem cells for research?" Becca asked.

 "There are some moral and legal concerns. Fortunately the work I do is university sanctioned." he lied.

 The drunk girl nodded and he relaxed.

 "A lot of things kill neurons and brain tissue. As you mentioned alcohol can kill them. Even depression and other disorders. I expose cells to simple materials like this punch" he said while examining the glass "and if they perish I ignore them. If however they are resilient I study these cells then try to replicate new ones with that same attribute; which is called neurogenesis."

 "How do you do that?"

 Rishi ignored the question and continued.

 "I've submitted cells to varying temperatures, mercury, illegal drugs, lead, cleaning solvents, and even water. Simple water to sodium ratios can kill brain cells. I've submitted cells to every possible rigor and despite it all there's always resilient cells. By mixing all of these strong traits together I think I've come close to creating a perfect cell."

  The girl seemed mildly interested so Rishi continued.

 "Surprisingly creating these perfect cells isn't the difficult part. It's implanting them to replace the dead ones. That is where the difficulties begin. Even if I can get the cells to take hold, they never seem to perform in the same manner. Things are…"

 "Lost in translation?"

 "I guess you could say that." he replied as he smiled down at her.

 "By creating these tenacious cells that have the willingness to replace and adhere to dead neurons I think we can create.."

 Becca kissed him and he forgot about his research.   

 Thinking about that first kiss Rishi looked outside. Snow was pelting the window and the wind howled a sad song. The Minneapolis winter was getting started early. 

 Rishi took a moment determining whether or not he could make the cautious 27 mile drive to Stillwater for a visit with his newly acquired woman friend. After a brief observation he sighed, leaned back into his computer chair, and studied the cored brain tissue under the microscope. Was there a change? Had something occurred?

 Rishi quickly grabbed his pipette and stabbing the brain tissue he injected .5 ML's of the newest cells they had developed.  He increased the heat in the incubator slightly and held his breath. The reaction was immediate. Nothing.

 Letting out a sigh of exasperation Rishi removed his arms from  the isolated rubber incubator sleeves and placed the pipette on his desk. 

 Reconsidering the 27 mile drive in a morose mood he once again stared out the window longingly. While he watched the snow outside the cells began to take hold. Slowly recreating the expired neurons and replacing the previously severed neural pathways. 

 The researcher wheeled down the side of the desk in his chair and slid open a bottom drawer. He removed a cheap bottle of cognac and a single glass. Wiping the glass out with his lab coat he slammed it on the desk and poured a couple of fingers. Drinking quickly he emptied it. Rishi hissed then poured another. 

 "How about a drink?" Rishi asked the cadaver.

 "I hope you like cognac." he said while chuckling "It's the only thing I have."

 Rishi reached for the bottle of cognac then halted. The small vial of remaining cells he had just run through the centrifuge was sitting on the desk also. It was nearly 2/3's full and probably useless. Not probably. It was just another failed batch and a bleak reminder of how his work was progressing.

 "More like regressing." he said aloud.

 His mood darkened and he stood up angrily. Picking up the vial and pipette he approached the cadaver. Looking down at the woman he filled the pipette. There was a tiny hole drilled in her skull that was concealed just above the hairline. 

 "After a shot of this you'll feel rejuvenated and fresh. In no time you'll be slathering on makeup and heading to the county fair. This year you might even be the Dairy Queen."

 He had said that last statement maniacally. The work was taking it's toll. He fumbled with the pipette and the vial with shaking hands.

 Inserting the needle into the cranial hole he injected the serum of cells.

 "What beauty queen doesn't need a warm nap?"

 Taking a mesh heating blanket off of a stainless steel shelf Rishi tenderly covered the chubby corpse. 

 "We'll plug this in and soon you'll be cozy and warm."

 The researcher laughed and sat back down in his chair. Cadavers were rare and he was being disrespectful. No doubt he had contaminated the entire brain and future core experiments were now ruined. It didn't matter. He could perform tests on any brain tissue or stems. This particular cadaver was a loaner from the university. Not a sanctioned loaner but a borrowed acquisition thanks to one of the graduate assistants who had access to such material. It had to be returned in the morning regardless. Rishi wasn't sure how his assistants transported such things but he lacked any concern at the moment.

 He poured another drink and then settled back and cradled the glass. Taking another drink he let the fiery liquid roll over his tongue. Chastising himself for his impulsive behavior he closed his eyes.

 The snowflakes beat a staccato rhythm on the window while he fantasized about how the night could have possibly ended.  Becca was a wildcat in bed. She was unafraid and loved to experiment. Luckily Rishi loved to perform anatomical research on her supple young body.

 Looking at the glass of cognac he scolded himself for drinking so much. Driving through a snow storm half in the bag was foolish. Legal troubles were disastrous in his line of work. Grants were lost. Funding was cut. Was it worth it? Cursing he reached for his phone.

 Rishi texted Becca and complained about the weather. She replied immediately and agreed that the roads were probably terrible. They'd simply meet tomorrow. After sending a risqué photo she signed off for the night. The researcher tossed the phone in his lap and smiled pleasantly. There would be other nights for his "studies".

 Pouring another finger of cognac Rishi decided to get drunk. It was something he rarely did. Continuous failure was demoralizing and he needed a break. There was a cot in the corner of his small lab that he could eventually retreat to. Driving wasn't a concern if he slept on the cot. Besides, he had his County Fair date to keep him company.

 Rishi plugged his phone into a small Bose speaker and selected an 80's playlist on Pandora. At a pleasant subdued level he listened to familiar songs and just relaxed. Feeling melancholy yet strangely optimistic. He was close. The researcher gripped the glass tightly and closed his eyes.

 Waking with a start Rishi pried his eyes open. His throat burned from thirst and his stomach felt full and sour. Lifting the cognac glass to his mouth he recoiled from the smell. Placing the glass down he rubbed his swollen eyes. They were blurry and unfocused. A desktop lamp glowed brightly and he turned it off.  Huey Lewis and The News sang about "The Power of Love" and the snow still beat on the window glass. Easing back he relaxed and rubbed his temples.

 Then he saw a brief flash in the window. A mere and fleeting  reflection. 

 "What in Jesus?" Rishi managed to stammer before the world upturned. 

 There was a brief second of heart stopping panic before everything transpired. His stomach dropped and literally flew south like a Canada Goose escaping the northern latitudes. There was someone behind him. Not exactly behind him but on his rear quarter bearing down. 

 Rishi had time to turn just before a fast moving grey fleshed apparition knocked him off his computer chair like a tee ball. His chair snagged the audio cord and his phone went spinning like a top across the waxed tile floor. He tried to cry out but the air was knocked out of him. 

 His stomach lurched with splashing  acidic cognac. Almost immediately a cold sweat broke out over his body. He clawed upwards towards whatever was pinning him down. Cold unyielding flesh met his frantic grasp. 

 In that instant his mind worked as it never had before. The panic ceased. His brain was functioning with timed rapidity. Then comprehension overwhelmed him. Miss Midwest was astride him. The fact that she was once dead and recently reanimated caused less concern than was she was actually doing.

 It wasn't exactly clawing and biting. It was a panicked frenzy. Rishi was being raked and ravaged by the likes of a man shipwrecked and then reaching a sand beach after days afloat. First the hands clutching for purchase. Then as the shivering sand flows and retreats between grasping fingers that stoic and sun blistered b*****d bites the sand. Sinking teeth into hope and terra firma. Hopelessness was that liquid blue monstrosity behind. As sand fills the mouth and eyes burn from the brine that poor shipwrecked man bites down harder; because that son of a b***h is going to make it! 

 That was the image playing in his mind when an inquisitive finger traced up edge of his face and then promptly disappeared into his orbital socket. 

 The eyeball burst and Rishi vomited cognac in a bitter geyser. The cadaver paid no mind to the bile and plunged a thumb into the researchers other orb. The thing bent down and slurped up the fluid like a Maine tourist clumsily eating a raw oyster for the first time.

 Rishi could hear himself screaming as his bowels released. The smell didn't ruin the cadaver's appetite. She chewed for a few seconds on a shred of ruined eyeball then tore off a chunk of Rishi's cheek with her teeth.

 The man screamed and pushed the cadaver's face away with his hands. Spitting out a chunk of stubborn flesh she bit into two of Rishi's clawing fingers and severed them cleanly.

 "Help meeeeee!" the man screamed as the cadaver started to devour the other fingers.

 Surprisingly he never stopped panicking to consider he had succeeded in his cell experiment. While Rishi screamed and protested the creature ate with the curiosity of a Midwest farmer at a Chinese Buffet. It wasn't a quick death. Though it was messy. 

 Rishi was deceased by the time the woman chewed his nose off. She spit it out, seemingly uninterested by either the flavor or texture. Pulling off an ear she sniffed it then discarded the bloody cartilage. Forgetting the body she stood up and wandered the lab for a few minutes. She moved quickly but without purpose. After knocking various items off  the long desk and onto the floor a pounding fist sounded on the door. The woman could hear muffled voices. She cocked her head and walked towards the cacophony. Moving over broken glass she left a smear of bloody footprints in a surrealistic pattern of randomness. Each footstep lured forward side to side by that noise.

 Rishi began to move. Slight twitches quickly escalated into a seizure dance. His mouth opened and he howled. Jumping up he flung his head side to side flinging blood like a shaking dog expelling the sea off of wet fur. 

 He noticed the woman. She was flailing against the door. Quickly he scuttled towards her. There was no thought. No feeling. Just that sound behind the door.

 The pounding intensified. The noise grew so loud it drove the creatures mad with a mix of hunger and excitement. They both cocked their heads side to side as the noise reached a fevered climax. They clawed at the door and shrieked in garbled symphony.

 Finally the door caved in and two young med students barged through. Their faces paled and one had time to scream in a falsetto wail.  

 Rishi leapt like a giant flea. They fed. 

 

 Shortly after midnight Albert Birke pulled into the parking lot of the medical complex. Parking near the entrance he killed the engine on the Ford Escape and turned on his blue flashing lights. Picking up the clipboard from the passenger seat he noted his arrival time. He looked around the lot and saw 3-4 sets of footprints in the fresh snow leaving the building and disappearing into a wooded drainage ravine. The security officer picked up his radio and keyed the device.

 "Dispatch, this is officer Birke. I just arrived on the scene, over."

 "Officer Birke, this is dispatch. We had a security alarm activate at the front entrance. What's the situation? Over."

 Looking at the footprints again Birke thought for a moment. They indeed came from the front entrance as dispatch had informed him. Keying the mic he spoke again.

 "Dispatch, I think we have some kids fooling around. I can see some footprints leaving the complex and going into a wooded ravine. No tire tracks or signs of a disturbance, over."

 The radio was silent for a moment. Albert smiled and keyed the mic again.

 "Rhonda, what time is your shift over?"

 "Albert," dispatch replied "quit dreaming. Go home to your wife."

 "Okay okay." Albert said blandly "Roger that."

 Rhonda was a sweet piece of a*s. His wife hadn't looked that good since the wedding night. And that had been damn near 15 years ago. In all honesty his wife probably never had a figure like Rhonda. He chuckled to himself and put the thoughts aside.

 Albert reached into the glovebox and took out a small Ruger LCP pistol that he pocketed in his parka. Next to the clipboard was a large flashlight that he clicked on. Stepping out of the SUV he walked towards the footprints. Hitching up his belt he kneeled down and looked at the tracks. There was a few drops of what appeared to be blood. Vandals? Drunks? Looking around the lot again he saw a single snow covered car parked in the distance.

 "Dispatch, we have a car in the lot. It looks like Dr. Patel's. I'm going to go inside and check on him. He probably scared those kids away. Maybe he knows who they were. Over."

 "You go do that, Albert. Over."

 Albert sighed and stood up. Swinging the light towards the entrance he started walking through the empty lot. Off in the distance a howl erupted into the still night air. Albert paused and looked around.

 "F*****g drunk college kids." the man swore.

 Shaking his head he continued hiking towards the entrance.  The snow sloshed underfoot and he tugged the collar up on his parka. Near the front entrance his flashlight beam twinkled off broken glass. His eyes narrowed and his right hand reached into his pocket to remove the pistol. Clicking the safety off he leveled the weapon and slowly approached the door. The security agency had a strict no firearm policy. Albert didn't give two s***s about policy. 

 Swinging his flashlight left to right he surveyed the damage. The glass front door had been smashed out. From the inside he noted. That was odd. He approached the door and shined his light into the dimly lit entrance. There were drops and smears of something dark on the clean white tile floor. Scowling he stepped through the shattered doorway and knelt down by the stains. They were blood.

 Albert shown the light around warily. The building was quiet. Setting the flashlight down he keyed his shoulder mic.

 "Dispatch, the front door was shattered from the inside. There's quite a bit of blood in here. Some damn kids probably cut themselves tearing the place up. Over."

 He waited for dispatch to reply as he stared at the smears of blood. There was a considerable amount. He hoped Dr. Patel had just left his car for the night and wasn't still here. The rag head was a cocky little dandy but he always gave him a bottle of whiskey for Christmas. The good stuff too. 

 "Officer Birke, I have Cooper coming to meet you. Hold tight until he arrives. Over."

 "ETA on Cooper? Over." 

 "5 minutes, Albert. Standard protocol. Over."

 "Copy that." the security officer replied.

 Neil Cooper was the new security officer. A gangly college dropout that couldn't beat a salamander in an arm wrestling match. He spent more time at dispatch staring at Rhonda's a*s than he did out on his route. Albert loathed the b*****d and was insulted that he had to wait for backup from some kid that couldn't even finish a two year Liberal Arts degree from a second rate college.

 Picking up the flashlight he followed the blood trail through the lobby and down a long polished hallway. Ugly abstract paintings and dimly lit veneered sconces decorated the walls. Albert slowed to a stop and keyed the mic.

 "Dispatch, can you remotely activate lighting? Over."

 "Sure thing, Albert." Rhonda replied. "Give me a sec. Over."

 While Albert waited for the lights to activate he walked back towards the lobby. There was a small unmanned lobby desk with a few security camera monitors. He glanced at the dark monitors and swore. 

 "What's the point of having the cameras if they don't turn them on?" he said to the room.

 Broken glass crunched and Birke swung his sidearm towards the sound. 

 "Jesus Christ, Albert!" Cooper shouted while holding his hands up "We're not supposed to have guns!"

 "Ever think to radio me before you sneak up like a f*****g eel?"

 Birke glared at the man and keyed his mike.

 "Dispatch, Cooper just arrived. We're going to see if Doctor Patel is here. Over."

 "Albert, you want me to radio the police? Over."

 "You better, Rhonda. There's a little more blood in here than I'd like to see. Let them know we're searching for the doc. He could be injured. Over"

 "You be careful, Albert. I'll have the police there briefly. Over."

 Officer Albert stared at Cooper until the lights flickered on. Cooper looked around the lobby blankly. 

 "You sure that's blood?" he asked.

 "You twit. What do you think it is? Pasta sauce?"

 "Well I don't know, Albert!"

 "Just stay behind me, okay? We have to go upstairs and check on Doctor Patel."

 Cooper nodded and Albert turned his back on him. They walked down the hallway following the blood. A stairway door was ajar and a bloody handprint was smeared on the wire infused glass.

 "I don't like this, Albert." Cooper said nervously.

 Birke ignored him and started climbing the steps to the second floor. 

 "Maybe we should wait for the cops." the younger man protested.

 Birke stopped climbing and spun around to face Cooper.

 "You think some 22 year old nightshift cop is better qualified than me?" Birke hissed "Christ, Cooper. You are a useless little prick."

 Cooper didn't reply. He just stared down an his flashlight; nervously wringing it with his hands.

 "Listen kid. The doc could be hurt. We sit around waiting for 10 minutes and the guy could bleed out. How would that make you feel?"

 Cooper nodded his head in agreement. Birke reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

 "Stay here if you want. I'm going up."

 "I ain't staying here! F**k that!"

 "Then shut the f**k up and follow me."

 After surveying the damage in Doctor Patel's lab Birke became frightened. There was too much blood for this to end well. Was there even that much blood in a human body? He poked at what looked like a sawed square of skull with his flashlight. It was laying on the ground next to some scattered stainless steel tools. Long blonde hair grew from a spot where the trimmer had missed. 

 "What the Hell was he doing up here?" Birke asked.

 Cooper started to wretch and Albert ignored him. Walking towards the large window he looked outside.

 "Well I'll be fucked."

 "What is it, Albert?" Cooper asked as he wiped away vomit flecks.

 Albert was suddenly creeped out. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and alarms were sounding in his head. A man was standing next to his SUV. Arms hanging limply at his side. Head downcast. Slowly listing side to side as if on a schooner in a rolling sea.

 "That son of a b***h." Albert muttered.

 He tore across the laboratory and almost fell as he slid through a pool of congealing blood. Taking the stairs two at a time he ran into the hallway and shot down the narrow passageway towards the lobby. Cooper was behind him protesting about something but Birke was on an adrenaline boost.

 The older security officer ran through the shattered front door and raised his weapon.

 "Stay right there, m**********r! Get your f*****g hands in the Goddamn air!" he screamed at the figure by his truck.

 The man looked up at him and screamed. The mouth was a black maw filled with splintered teeth. The eyes were dark and cold; like a deep sea creature’s.

 Two events happened simultaneously. Birke pissed himself then started firing his sidearm. Bullets tore through center mass shooting bloody spray as the slugs exited. The creature surprisingly ran past Birke and tackled Cooper. 

 They both collapsed in a tangled pile and Birke could hear the younger man whelping in fright. Then the whelps turned into screams of agony. Birke fired three more times; one of the shots striking Cooper. When the magazine was empty Birke threw the pistol at the flailing men and fled.

 Jumping into the Escape he turned the key in the ignition and started the SUV. Shifting into gear he stomped on the accelerator and spun nearly 180 degrees before the tires caught on pavement. He clipped Cooper's SUV but continued driving undeterred. Twisting the wheel to the right he exploded onto Saxton Avenue and slid sideways nearly colliding with a light pole. A few hundred yards down the road he passed two police cruisers. 

 He heard his radio chattering but ignored it. F**k Rhonda. She can bring her sweet a*s down here if she wants a report.     

 Blowing a red light he drove onto the freeway ramp almost causing an accident. He had never seen anything like that before and was terrified. By morning he would see a lot more of it. He only had a few more hours to live.  

    

 

     

 

Author's Note

Please rate/review!