Like Unto Gods

Something I wrote up to entertain the chat tonight, with a few modifications (Grammatical, aesthetical, etc.)


It all began deep in a jungle; perhaps far within Africa, or South America. Either way, the natives of the land take part in an ancient ritual, dancing and singing around a pair of bodies laying in the midst of a fire circle. The shaman of this group, a tall and imposing figure, stands within the circle chanting and sending dust from a pouch on his hip into the air above him, spreading it around the flames.

From several yards away, hidden in the underbrush with modern camouflage, a group of more civilized humans sit in wait; recording equipment, cameras, radios, firearms... plenty of equipment, and definitely not part of the ritual itself, observing only for the purpose of learning; for as the Shaman chants louder, one of the two bodies sits up slightly, looking around with slow, deliberate movements.

The group, smiling and quietly patting themselves on the back, hear on the wind a faint, withering moan; a person returned from death, taking in their first breath, cleaning out their throat. The natives on the outside of the circle stop dancing, chanting now in unison with the Shaman, as the second body slowly rises, standing before the other that still seeks the various faces around.

Satisfied with their findings, the group turns to leave, their leader alone waiting and chuckling darkly under his breath; they had collected plenty of this miracle herb, and with it, they could reverse the plague of the flu.

Or so they would be told.

Turning to leave finally, the leader of the group sees both of the bodies now standing, arms outstretched to give the shaman a hug, a thank you for bringing them back from beyond the brink; as it appeared from afar.



Months later, a group of mixed scientists and explorers celebrate their victory of successfully bringing one of their test subjects back to life. Having left the person in a secured room, they all revel in their achievement; they were like unto gods, as some of them remarked. Drinking and eating with abandon, the party lasts for hours. Finally, the head scientist calls a toast; "To Life." The entire room recites his phrase, raising their glasses and drinking deeply, the last of the night.

Leaving to their respective rooms, two of the scientists go to check on their pet project; some time during the party one of the other men had gone to see if the subject could use a drink, or food, and had presumably gone to bed after. And so the two wander down the corridors of the maze-like complex, until a faint smell reaches their noses; a decaying, stomach churning stench. Immediately they assume something is wrong, perhaps the subject had somehow died after the resurrection; hurrying down the hallway, they find the door to his room, drenched in blood and with a single arm laying openly in front of it.
At this, panic gripped the both of them. Turning, they tried the intercom on the wall, to alert the others; but only a faint chuckle reached them, chilling their already near frozen blood. "Like unto gods..." said the voice, that of their leader, their captain. Once more, the laugh, but this time unrestrained, maddeningly filling the hallways. A groan emits from the room before them, and a bloodied figure steps into the light. Then the hand disappears and soon, the attached body, entrails eaten out and still wearing his lab coat, falls in line behind the other, both groaning hungrily. A final, mocking laugh fills the air, and the lights go out; screams carry down the endless corridors, but none hear them.