C5 Hold on...you want us to do what?

(SPOILER ALERT!! - CAUTION - Frequently used cliche up ahead ... proceed at your own risk.)

The tension in the air is so thick you could it with a knife...

(And now that that's over with; relax, and feel free to leisurely read on.)

A deafen-like silence once again befalls the lab, as Director Wyskwaird remains quiet; whom, at the moment, is offering no response other than that sinister grin. But soon, he responds in a cavalier manner of tone...

"I believe I was straightforward enough ... honestly, I can't think of any simpler way to word it ... when I said that a military's greatest hindrance is a dead soldier. So, either you're obliviously ignorant, or you're trying to avoid the inevitable ... regardless of whichever one it is, I suppose I'll just come out and say it..."

Director Wyskwaird removes a test tube with a light rose-blush hued liquid in it from a rack of test tubes containing various colored liquids; then, holds it up at eye-level in front of him and gently swirls the contents around in the tube ... looking as if he was some kind of wine connoisseur closely examining a glass of a vintage rose' wine...

"I need you to formulate a drug with an effective reanimation capability."

The director lowers the test tube and looks to the lead researcher; whom ... like every other researcher and assistant ... is displaying a demonstratively taken aback and perplexed expression deeply etched upon his countenance. Director Wyskwaird's sinister grin quickly contorts into a condescending smirk...

"What ... am I still speaking above your comprehension level? Well then allow me to 'dumbify' my vocabulary, and use some simple, basic words that even you can understand..."

The director raises the test tube back up to eye-level and begins slowly twirling it about, again; intensely staring at its rose-blush hued liquid content...

"This drug needs to bring the dead back to life."

Instantly, the lead researcher's mouth ... along with every other researcher's and assistant's, in the lab ... drops to a fully agape position. Their previous demonstratively taken aback and perplexed looking countenances are replaced with 'even beyond utterly stunned' expressions. After a momentary lapse of being rendered speechless, the lead researcher finally blurts out...

"That's crazy ... like, totally insane!"

With the exception of one raised eyebrow ... Director Wyskwaird displays a stoical visage, while still speaking in a cavalier tone...

"Did you just say I was crazy ... that I'm insane?"

Fearfully worried that he insulted Director Wyskwaird, the lead researcher tries to quickly clarify; with trepidation clearly evident in his wavering inflection...

"No ... heaven's no ... definitely not, Director. I would never call you crazy or insane. I was..."

Director Wyskwaird abruptly cuts him off; while devilishly grinning as he tauntingly goads...

"You say you'd never 'call me' crazy or insane ... but perhaps that's what you're thinking; hmm? By the look in your eyes, I'd say that I'm right; aren't I?"

A nervously terrified lead researcher quickly averts his eyes down to the floor, in order to avoid looking at the director directly; and not giving the director the opportunity to further read his facial expression and figure out what he's really thinking ... which is that he must be out of his mind. He tries again to explain...

"Absolutely not ... that's not what I was saying at all." That clearly evident trepidation in a wavering inflection returns; as hesitantly says, in a meek manner, "What I meant was that that idea was crazy ... it's totally unfeasible, Director. There's no such thing as bringing the dead back to life; it's not humanly possible. I mean, unless you're God Almighty himself; no one has the ability to resurrect the dead. It's impossible."

Director Wyskwaird continues swirling the liquid about in the test tube, while gazing upon it...

"Well; isn't that what we here at the Raincoat and Golashes Conglomerate are here for ... to make the impossible possible? I mean, why else would they shell out ridiculously high six-figure incomes to you and your team; if not to get results for those impossible seeming requests?" He pauses briefly ... continuing to swirl the test tube's contents around ... before bringing up...

"Besides; after all, ... and correct if I'm wrong ... don't they sometimes refer to you as 'Dr. Frankenstein'?" Dr. Wyskwaird returns the test tube to its place in the rack. "I myself have seen those mutated abominations among your menagerie in 'The Zoo'."

'The Zoo' is located on the lowest level of 'The Lodge' ... isolated several hundred feet below the sub-basement of the Raincoat and Golashes Conglomerate's corporate headquarters' tower. It's a top-secret classified, highly restricted area which houses those horrendous outcomes that came about from biological and bio-warfare experimentation that had gone awry. Everything resembling from the stereotypical genetically bred two-headed sheep and cows, to the highly imaginative special-effect looking mutants from 'The Hills Have Eyes' or 'Descent' films are carefully hidden and securely tucked away under lock and key ... usually brought there under the guise that they're going to be destroyed.

Only those directly involved in the actual experiments themselves, along with the few carefully selected Security personnel ... and, of course, Director Wyskwaird ... are aware of these freakish atrocities' down in 'The Zoo'. Just about everybody else ... even most of the higher-ups ... are unaware of their existence.

The lead researcher ... who isn't exactly thrilled with his given unofficial nickname ... rebuts...

"With all due respect, Director Wyskwaird ... first off .... the nickname of 'Dr. Frankenstein' really isn't an accurate, or fair, depiction for me. In Mary Shelley's fictional 'Frankenstein' ... with an emphasis on fictional ... the doctor created a monster with an accumulated collection of dead body parts; and then reanimating the sewn together assembled body ... bringing it to life."

The lead researcher briefly pauses before concluding...

"Honestly; I can see where they may have somehow misconstrued what I've done in the lab on occasion and given me that name ... admittedly; I can't deny that I'm responsible for a good majority of 'The Zoo's' inhabitants ... but everything that I had 'created', for lack of better word, was derived from living cellular genes, tissues, and test subjects ... whether originating from animal or human species. Nothing came about from the dead."

"So, what you're telling me is that you're refusing to comply with my instructions?"

The lead researcher adamantly replies...

"No, Director, it isn't that I'm refusing to comply with your instructions; it's that I'm unable to carry them out ...like I said before, bringing people back from the dead just can't be done."

"And it's like I said before; the word 'can't' shouldn't be in our dictionary ... the Raincoat and Golashes Conglomerate is where the impossible becomes possible; there's nothing we can't do."

The lead researcher appears flustered as he stammers...

"But ... reviving the dead ... its ...it's ... it's just not possible."

One of the lab assistants snidely remarks aside to one of his colleagues...

"I thought our director's name was Wyskwaird; not Romero."

A quizzical expression overtakes his colleague's countenance...

"Romero? Huh ... what do you mean?"

The lab assistant explains, "You know ... George A. Romero ... the director of that 1960's cult classic 'Night of the Living Dead' ... the film that made zombie movies become more mainstream in theatres, which basically started the whole undead slash zombie apocalypse craze."

Director Wyskwaird happens to catch the wisecracking comment whispered aloud by the lab assistant. At first, he shoots over a rebuking glare at the lab assistant; but then displays a devilish grin as he slowly walks over to him. Once standing in front of the now quaking lab assistant, the director briefly scrutinizes over him with discerning eyes. Still maintaining that devilish grin of his ... Director Wyskwaird ambiguously says...

"From that smartass remark of yours, I take it that you must have a lot of faith in your team's leader's ability."

Unsure of what Director Wyskwaird is insinuating ... but sure that he must have ticked him off with his flippant side comment ... the anxiously nervous lab assistant decides to play it safe and try to placate the always menacing-looking director by readily concurring...

"Yeah ... I suppose so."

"That's good ... underlings such as yourself should always trust their supervisors..." Director Wyskwaird glances over at the lead researcher, "even those supervisors who lack self-confidence in themselves..." he turns back to the lab assistant, "so, you should be okay with what I'm about to do to you next; right?"

A befuddled expression immediately overtakes the lab assistant's face...

"Wait; what ... huh?"

Director Wyskwaird quickly draws the concealed pistol from under his suit jacket and presses it up against the lab assistant's temple ... then, without hesitation, squeezes the trigger. BANG!!!...

Bloodied hair, flesh, bone, and brain matter fly halfway across the lab ... following the bullet's flight trajectory ... and splatters all over the otherwise pristine clean, sterilized surroundings. Immediately after that, a womanish shriek resounds throughout the lab; and another lab assistant quickly calls out...

"Jesus, Chuck; will you grow a pair already? Dude, seriously; can't you belt out a more manly shriek than that? You sound like my aunt when she sees a mouse."

Chuck indignantly responds, "Uh; hello ... the director just blew Matt's brains all over the place; and all you can do is criticize about how I screamed?"

"That's because you screamed like a little bitch."

Chuck responds even more indignantly...

"'Screamed like a little bitch'? Hmm ... maybe I did scream like a little bitch; but if you keep picking on me, I'm gonna bitch-slap you!"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah; that's so."

"I'd like to see you try it."

"Keep it up and you will."

Director Wyskwaird irately shouts, "That's enough, you two; shut your 'pie holes'!"

He looks at the lead researcher ... who once again is totally taken aback, displaying a confoundingly dumbfounded visage; with a fully agape mouth ... and points to the motionless, bloody corpse on the floor...

"There's your test subject ... now get to work."

The lead researcher takes a brief moment to try to recompose himself, before stammering...

"B-but ... y-you s-shot him ... in the head."

"So?"

The lead researcher takes in a deep breath; allowing himself a little more time to recompose himself...

"'So?' ... according to the movies ... in theory; shooting the undead in the head ... or, that is to say; anything that destroys their brain ... is the only way to stop a zombie. Since his brain is no longer intact; how in the world am I supposed to bring him back to life? Not that I would be able to, anyway ... again; it's impossible to bring the dead back to life, Director."

"Is that really a problem?" Director Wyskwaird speaks 'as a matter of factly' in that cavalier manner of tone of his, "It's quite common for an enemy sniper to take out a man or two of ours with a clean head shot. But what you're telling me now is that the drug wouldn't be able to bring a killed off soldier of ours back to life if their brain is destroyed?"

The lead researcher lets out an exasperated huff; then firmly grits his teeth as he thinks to himself...

"No, you stubborn mule; what I'm saying now is what I've been saying since you brought it up ... it's impossible to bring the dead back to life; regardless of whether their brain is intact, or not!"

Director Wyskwaird nonchalantly remarks...

"Very well, then ... never let it be said that I wasn't willing to compromise."

Director Wyskwaird suddenly aims his pistol at the lab assistant that was getting on Chuck's case, and immediately fires the remaining bullets 'dead center mass' into his chest ... violently tearing apart the assistant's lungs and heart with the tumbling, shredding shrapnel.

Once again, Chuck instantly screams out a womanish shriek; and the director briefly stares at him with a scrutinizing gaze, before delivering a quick eye-roll and shake of the head...

"You know; he was right ... you really do need to man up that 'girly-scream' of yours. ... Try crying out more from your diaphragm the next time."

In a seemingly one fluid-like movement, Director Wyskwaird ejects the empty clip from the butt of the pistol with one hand; while using his other hand to instantly occupy the empty space with another full clip. He looks to the lead researcher ... who's incessantly trembling ... and, in his cavalier manner of tone, says...

"There you are ... a test subject with an undamaged brain. How's that? Can you get to work on that drug now?"

Noticeably traumatized, and unable to speak at the moment; the trembling lead researcher simply nods his head. Director Wyskwaird holsters his pistol back under his suit jacket...

"Good; then I suppose I'll be leaving now." The director walks over to the automatic sliding doors, and pushes the release button; but before exiting the lab, says aloud without turning around...

"I'll be expecting to hear back from you soon..." Director Wyskwaird looks back at the lead researcher with a stern expression etched upon his countenance, "and I'll be expecting to hear some positive results regarding the drug's progression."

After having said that ... the director turns around and exits the lab.

********

And now that you've met two of this story's villains ... maybe not the only villains; but the two that will chiefly be responsible for the catalyst of the impending zombie apocalypse ... perhaps now would be a good time to introduce you to the story's heroine.