Bring Me to Life

Chapter 1

My breath froze in my chest. Brought back...to life? As in, I was dead at some point? I wasn't sure whether I could handle the rest, but listened anyways.

“You followed my instructions?” asked a deep, husky male voice.

“Yes, without a flaw. A fortunate side effect is that even thought she was dead; all the neurons were still joined with the synaptic connections, so now that she's conscious, she still has all the knowledge that she did before she died. But, due to the fact that she was dead for a few days, all her cells and nutrients in her hair withered away and she was reborn without these cells. Leading us to the implication that her hair will be permanently white. She is the Ultimate Specimen!” he said ecstatically.

Me? I was this "Ultimate Specimen"? Anyways, that guy was quite the chatterbox. At least I knew why I wasn't completely brain dead. I understood most of it, but not words like "neurons" and definitely not "synaptic connections."

"What should we do now, boss?" the eager man asked.

"Just... Load her onto a cart and take her to the room with the other specimens," the deep voiced man replied.

The doctors continued to chat for a few minutes before they opened the door with a creak, unshackled my limbs, and put me into an iron cage. They loaded the cage onto a trolley which was pushed to a pitch-black room, with other cages varying in size. As they pushed me, part of their long coats flew away to reveal guns.

Semi-automatic handguns.

Was it dangerous here? Why did they need the guns?

My attention was drawn from the guns, as I saw what filled the room. Cages in the room contained "specimens" as the doctors called them; and others were empty. They gently slid my cage off the cart and left.

The specimens looked up at me, and others pressed their faces against the bars to smell me over the chemical aroma blanketing the room. They all had some form of human resemblance.

One had legs that bent back at the knees instead of forwards, with an extended neck and short downy feathers peaking through the top of her hospital gown, which was oversized, just like mine. Another had no hair, but couldn't seem to sit. He was in a crouched position with his elbows averted backwards. His eyes were all black with no pupils, and he had slimy, wet-looking skin. His fingers and toes were webbed, and his throat expanded as he inhaled. The one that intrigued me the most was a beautiful girl. She was absolutely stunning to look at, with sleek black hair fallling over her tanned face, and blood-red eyes. When she noticed me staring, she curled into a fetal position, unfurling and wrapping her seven-foot-span wings around her. Leathery, sleek, black, bat wings; that were just like her hair.

Well, that was enough excitement for one day. I gingerly laid down, and my eyes started to droop shut. But as soon as I laid down to sleep, it happened.

My eyes exploded with color, dizzying, nauseating color. It got faster and faster until I couldn't keep up, clenching my eyes closed and furiously rubbing my temples until... It stopped.

Slowly, but surely, came to a halt. But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in my iron cage. I was in a warm, loving environment. One that I wasn't used to but somehow remembered. It appeared to be a kitchen, with dark olive and tan polished marble, so smooth it was mirror-like.

Cautiously, I walked over to the countertop. But when I looked down, I saw no empty grey eyes staring back at me.

“I’m home!” yelled a young girl, making me jump half a foot into the air. “Mr. Brisley gave us another assignment, so I’ll be busy doing homework for an hour,” she announced. This girl was very young, about sixteen I’d say, with long midnight-black hair and electric blue eyes.

“Coming, coming. I’ve already prepared a snack,” a woman responded, with a light peaceful tone. She descended from the stairs behind me and when I turned around, her appearance appalled me.

She had short, wavy blonde hair with eyes to match her daughter.

“Because of that award you are receiving for your high marks, I made a treat.” The lady slipped on oven mitts, and walked over to pull open the oven door. She reached in, grabbing a pan filled with fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, emitting the most mouth-watering essence that I’d ever lived to smell. The pan was set on two fabric pot holders and placed on the table.

“Thanks, Mom!” she exclaimed anxiously grabbing for a cookie. “They're the best, just like always!” the girl gushed, cookie crumbs in the corners of her mouth. Licking her fingers, she slinged her book bag around the kitchen chair, plopping down to start her busy afternoon.

My eyes snapped open, and I bolted up from my slumped position, while the same thought kept running through my head. There was no way on heaven or Earth that was a dream. With that echoing through my head, I slid down and laid on my right side.

While I was doing nothing, I thought that I should think of a name for myself. My mind was immediately drawn back to the tattoo. A-12-L-9-1 it read, still unchanged from the last time I looked. A was the first letter. The twelfth letter in the alphabet was L, then another L. The ninth one was I and the first was an A. That made... "Allia."

That would be my name from that day forward.