I paced around my living room. On the one hand, the suspense was killing me. What would it be like? I bet it would feel amazing to wield that much authority. To hold such prestige.
On the other hand, I felt like I should know better than to throw around such power so carelessly. That I should be able to control my baser curiosity for the greater good.
It was a power no mortal human should hold in the palm of their hands.
After what felt like weeks of decision-making, my mind was made up. I would go through with this, but I would do it responsibly. Safely, and without malice.
(Because, you know, nothing ever goes wrong when you mean well.)
I would grow a zombie!
Cue lightning flashes and rolling thunder.
Containment unit. Unidentifiable viscous liquid. Undead test subject. Instructions on the back of the box. We’re ready to begin.
0-zero-hundred hours. I must be careful here. This zombie homunculus was previously contained. There’s no way to know just how dangerous he can be.
0700 hours. No visible growth as of yet. But his little zombie fingers are starting to look a bit pruned.
1100 hours. Eeeep! Did my creation just stand up on its own? If he can move, I must find a way to prevent him from escaping while I’m not looking.
1500 hours. A watched pot never boils, and a watched zombie never… Wait, did you see that?
2300 hours. A zombie in water seems like a safe alternative to a zombie on land, as long as you have a different water source.
3800 hours. I ventured a finger into the water to poke at the beast. He retaliated by covering me with some sort of slime. I’ve severed my right hand to prevent infection, just in case.
4700 hours. I wonder how big this thing gets? (That’s what she said.)
6100 hours. Are those bubbles? Do zombies breathe?
6300 hours. He’s alive, I tell you! ALIVE!
I think the beast is trying to speak. Yes. Yes. He’s saying his first word.