Maybe you have options, the young girl had cried, but what about the rest of us?

The words burned in Elliot's brain.

I wish that were true, he thought.

He sat in the control room of the pathology lab, dressed in a pale coverall, and sighed.

Awaiting the arrival of his mentor, Elliot peered at a clock on the wall, watching the seconds pass.

Any time now, old man.

Elliot frowned and wished for a distraction in the meantime. He found himself staring at the details of his work suit -- a sleeve pulled tightly against the back of his arm; a lock of his own hair which stuck out from the side of his hood, caught in the strap of his goggles; his fingers turned numb in their gray rubber gloves if he gripped his hands a certain way...

... around his scrawny neck...

Suddenly, Dr. Berman burst into the room, his white jacket flying.

Elliot jerked back. He stood up, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "R-ready to get s-started, Sir?" He offered a work coverall to his teacher.

Dr. Berman wrinkled his nose and scowled through his black-rimmed glasses. The grey hair at the sides and back of his head shot out in different directions like a blazing crown of fire.

"I've got a meeting tonight," the elder physician grumbled. He yanked the protective suit out of Elliot's hand.

"I-I know, Professor."

Elliot watched as Dr. Berman fussed with the clasp to his hazard suit, as if it were resisting use. Elliot held up a hand to help, but stopped short, watching.

"Uh, Sir? Do you think we'll be done by nineteen hundred? I-I was kind of hoping to attend Dr. Theega's lecture on genetic sequenc -- "

"What for?"

"W-well, since I won't be doing autopsies next year, I tho— "

"Pffh!" Dr. Berman interrupted, waving a hand. "Did you prepare a subject?"

"Uh, y-yeah," Elliot stuttered. "I-I did." He pointed through the observation window.

In the adjacent lab, an unknown person -- the seventh test subject in the last six months -- lay on a long, metal table. Similar to trials before, an unknown person presented with neither breath nor pulse. He or she merely existed in a suspended state, halfway between life and death. Comatose, as it was.

"Is that a female?"

"No, it's a teenager."

Dr. Berman glared.

"I mean, y-yeah, it's a boy."

A thin, pale-skinned boy with dark, wavy brown hair lay motionless on the table, wearing nothing but a pair of colorless, tie-up pants.

A corpse doesn't care if it's cold, Elliot thought. He looked on from the control room, shivering.

The pathology labs were not designed with comfort in mind. Everything about them was cold and lifeless -- the lower temperatures, the stainless steel furnishings, the smell of bleach and formaldehyde. Even the anatomic charts that hung on the walls served as reminders of the kind of morbid work being carried out in the department. A cause of death was typically being sought in the frigid place, but today there was no dissection or biopsy being performed.

"Hmph," Dr. Berman scoffed. He headed toward the exam room, his protective suit now adorned.

Elliot's mouth was agape. "Uh, Professor?" He stole another glance at the clock. "I, uh, I already did a preliminary check," he called out over the voice link.

Not to be dissuaded, Dr. Berman tilted his head and jutted his chin to peer through antiquated glasses. He continued his review of their scientific method: electrodes attached to the boy's head and chest, nerve monitors connected to his arms and legs, chemical stimulants ready for administration --

Uh, oh.

"Elliot, what is this?"

Elliot scrunched his face as if he had been poked with a stick.

Dr. Berman pointed toward a bag of blood as part of the set-up.

"Oh, that..." Elliot answered, "it's a unit of blood, Doc. Remember?"

"I didn't agree to this!"

"But we, uh, we talked about this. The transfusion should help... "

"No, no! Take it out!"

"But Sir..."

"Take it out, now!"

Elliot's shoulders deflated. He took a step toward the comatose subject.

"What's this?" the Professor continued.

Elliot froze.

Dr. Berman ran his index finger along one side of the test subject. He gawked at the detail. "You already accessed the anesthetic membrane!"

Elliot's mouth dropped. "W-well, you have your meeting, a-and I was trying to get to that lect— "

"What do you think we're doing here? Some kind of patty-cake, learning lab?"

"N-no, Sir... "

"We're trying to resuscitate a human being!"

"I know, Sir... "

"Use your brain!"

"I'm sorry, Doc! I just thought... "

"How much time has passed?"

Elliot twitched. "Uh, maybe fifteen minutes, Sir?"

"What? Bahh!" The senior scientist threw his arms up in the air. "What are you trying to do? Sabotage our trial?"

Abandoning the remainder of checks, the Professor stomped back into the control room.

"Initiate the power sequence already!"

With the flip of a switch, Elliot began another one of their Frankenstein experiments.

Electricity hummed and crackled. A flash of light filled the room as a large burst of energy exploded. Sparks flew across the room, and the unconscious youth was jolted into the air. Fluid and blood bags began to drip through plastic tubings while a trail of smoke dissipated over the subject's body.

"What -- what the hell was that? What just happened there?" Dr. Berman asked. "How many joules was that?"

"Uh... 400, Sir."

"400! What are you doing?"

"We already tried 300 last time."

"You can't change more than one variable like that!" The doctor put his hands at his head, as if to pull out his hair. "What have I taught you all these years?"

"I know, but remember what you said? You said we had neither the time n-nor the resources... "

"Did I ask you to change the protocol, Elliot? Did I ask you to disqualify the trial? Did I? Did I?"

The young resident did not respond. Instead, he leaned and looked past the Professor's way. His eyes were wide and dilated, and his mouth had dropped open.

Dr. Berman turned to see what was happening behind him.

Something on the monitors was happening that the two physicians hadn't seen with any of their prior experiments -- life!

Thanks for the Next Big Recognition book club for their help in reshaping this chapter. I greatly appreciate it. Special recognition to TimothyMarsh.

Thanks to ratt328, b_olski, and JordanTse7 for all of their early encouragement.

Lastly, special thanks to Wattpad and all of their readers and writers for simply existing, inspiring and supporting.