Reanimated as Death's Bane

What's in the Serums

Meanwhile, in a sealed lab, Pete was grappling with a different kind of crisis.

His hand trembled as he clutched his hair, pulling hard until strands snapped. “Why am I still here?” he growled, his voice carrying anger and frustration. ‘I thought I died, I felt that thing burn my chest, I couldn't move or see anything’.

He drank the mixture desperately hoping it would free him from the pain and guilt that haunted him, for dragging his best friend down with him. He remembered how his mom lost her legs in a fire outbreak because she wanted to rescue him, despite his failing mutation countless times, wasting the little his family had on resources that didn't work on him, he couldn't take care of those who cared about him.

The guilt and failure had driven him to this reckless act. But death, it seemed, was ghosting him.

An idea crept into his mind, something dark no reasonable person would think of. His grin spread from ear to ear, his eyes opened wide, he looked like a mischievous madman.

“I’m in a damn lab,” he said. “There’s gotta be quicker ways to help myself.”

He pulled open the lockers lining the walls one after another, revealing rows of flasks filled with the mysterious substance.

He poured small quantities from each flask into a large glass beaker on the workbench. Some mixtures hissed, others sparked or popped, and some changed the color of the whole substance. He suddenly paused mid-pour.

‘What do I gain from all this? Instead of fixing my mistakes, I'm running from them. How would they feel if they found out, after all they did for me, this is how I ended?’ he thought, letting out a heavy sigh.

He shook his head slowly, then placed the flask down, and his lips curled into a bitter expression, staring at the ruined lab ahead of him. Then another thought came. ‘What if I turned into an alien, what if I gain a unique ability, I mean, this isn't any normal lab, so anything can happen.’

‘I could become powerful enough to protect myself so I don't put anyone else in danger, and I could be there when they need me. Mom. Dave. Sister.’ With a wry smile, he poured the next chemical into the beaker.

A sharp bang echoed as it reacted violently, but Pete didn’t flinch. He was a man filled with intent, his grin widened, as if he were a scientist on the pinnacle of a breakthrough rather than a man gambling his life.

When he poured in the last chemical without hesitation, Pete lifted the beaker and gulped the chaos, ignoring the stinging burn that dragged through his throat and slowly made its way into his stomach.

It felt like he was swallowing broken glass, forcing every tiny bit down, and when he couldn't take it anymore.

A scream filled with pain escaped his lips violently shaking his head, it shattered the glassware around him and the force of his cry sent him stumbling backward, slamming him hard against a locker.

He slumped to the floor with a thud and a faint smile as red liquid rolled out from his nose and lips. He had done it. But at what cost?

Minutes had passed, and he lay unmoved, his eyes weakly shut, he wasn't breathing, but his heart still thumped. Then, like lightning, his eyes bulged wide open, and he sucked in a long breath.

“How long’s it been?” he growled, dragging himself upright. “I am such a pain that even death won’t take me?”

A muffled laugh echoed in his head but he ignored it.

He was bitter that nothing ever happened to favor him. But at least he was alive. He felt lighter when he got up and a soothing sensation in his muscles.

He caught his reflection on the polished surface of a lab door and froze.

The man staring back wasn’t Pete, not entirely.

His hair, once dull brown, now had streaks of vibrant green, falling over his brow. His eyes held a faint but noticeable emerald glow. His frame, previously unremarkable, was now firm, with well defined muscles.

He looked like an antihero fresh from a brawl, bloody, rugged, and undeniably powerful.

“What the hell?” Pete muttered, raising a hand to his temple. The reflection mimicked him perfectly. He slid his fingers along the surface, made faces, and even opened the door to ensure it wasn’t a trick. “This can’t be me. I was handsome, but this? This is next level.”

He ruffled his green streaked hair, marveling at the transformation. “Must be the stuff I mixed…should’ve tried this ages ago.”

A laugh bubbled up, but it died as he remembered Dave. His best friend was out there dead, captured, or worse.

This new strength meant nothing if Pete couldn’t find him. ‘I can't keep hiding,’ he decided. ‘Time to test this upgrade.’

He grabbed a lab coat and goggles, throwing them on as a minor disguise.

He was welcomed by two guard drones spreading out red beams of light, patrolling the corridor. Pete cursed under his breath, he studied their patterns before striking.

His fists moved faster than he expected, smashing both drones to sparking heaps in a second. He blinked, surprised by his own strength, then sprinted down the left corridor on instinct, dodging the lasers and piling the guard drones behind him gracefully.

Someone noticed this, but didn't raise an alarm. Instead, the figure trailed him, keeping a distance. Pete felt a prickle on his neck, his guts told him to turn back.

He ignored it and moved forward until a sharp pain spread across his neck, and his body went weightless. He hit the floor hard and looked up to see a figure in sleek, white armor towering over him.

“You’re not from here,” the figure said sharply through its helmet. “But your secret’s safe, on one condition. Show me the bathroom.” It was the Dashkyr Tee

“Why should I make a deal with someone who doesn't know where the bathroom is?” Pete smirked, adjusting his coat. He was scared at first but the person sabotaged themself.

“You're trapped, and that costume is your only play. I have a way to get out, so step aside.”

“You know how to get out of here?” Dashkyr Tee asked, thinking of a way to get information from him.

“You heard me.” Pete grinned confidently, he checked the corridor ready to move but the Dashkyrs next words stopped him cold.

“Everyone here is masked,” Dashkyr Tee said. “You’ll be caught.”

Pete stopped cold. The person was right. Everyone he had seen in the facility wore a mask or helmet, their faces were hidden. His bare face was a neon sign screaming ‘intruder’.

“Alright,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll show you the bathroom, and that suit’s mine.”

The Dashkyr nodded, agreeing to the deal.

“Follow me,” Pete said, returning to the way he had come from. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of memories from his life before this nightmare. He had been in facilities like this visiting his mom's duty post.

Bathrooms were always near the clinic or break room area, tucked away but marked clearly. He had passed a sign earlier, hadn't he?

A small path away from the corridor with a faded symbol marked with a red door, half hidden by flickering lights. He had the memory of every detail.

Pete led the way hastily, after clearing the drones, the path was safer, but he knew it would raise an alarm soon.

He traced his way through the facility’s maze. But the Dashkyr’s urgency grew intense by the second, its breathing became loud and uneven.

Pete glanced back, catching the faint tremor in its hands. “What’s with the bathroom obsession?” he muttered.

“Water,” Dashkyr Tee said in a hoarse voice too quickly. “I… need it.”

Pete snorted. “Dehydrated, huh? You sound like a guy who escaped a desert.” He didn’t buy it, but the deal was struck. He needed that suit to blend in, and the Dashkyr needed water. They would use each other.

The corridor split, and Pete’s memory clicked. That sign he’d seen it, just past a vending machine that dispensed protein bars and energy drinks. Classic facility layout, keep the staff fed, hydrated, and pissing close to their stations.

He turned left, with the Dashkyr close behind, and spotted the sign, a stick figure in a skirt faded but unmistakable.

“There,” he said, pointing. “Women’s bathroom. Don’t ask me why there’s no men’s, probably some budget cut or design.”

The Dashkyr hesitated, tilting its helmet. “Women’s?”

Pete grinned, leaning against the wall. “Do you want water or not? Go on, princess.”

The Dashkyr muttered something unintelligible and pushed through the door.

Pete leaned against the wall, with his arms crossed, waiting for his suit. But the Dashkyr was taking way too long.

He tapped his foot restlessly, irritated. “What’s it doing, bathing in there?” he muttered.

His eyes drifted to a mirror across the path.

He caught something off, a flicker that didn’t belong. The glass wasn’t just glass it was too clean, too perfect, reflecting the corridor in a way that felt… wrong.

He stepped closer, drawing in his breath as he picked out details of faint carvings in the frame, a lining where no lines should be.

He pressed a finger against the glass, and it clicked softly, shifting inward. “No way,” he whispered, a laugh escaping his teeth. The “mirror” wasn’t a mirror. It was a door, disguised as part of the wall.

He pushed harder, and it swung open, revealing a hidden maintenance hub. Pipes snaked down the walls, and at the center was a large glowing panel displaying a digital map of the facility.

He studied the layout briefly and his eyes locked on one of the blinking markers labeled Emergency Exit, hidden behind the women’s bathroom.

Pete laughed, it was hard to believe. “The bathroom’s a damn escape route?” The irony was delicious.

The facility’s paranoid designers had hidden their escape routes behind a women’s restroom sign, betting no one would look twice.

It was so absurd and genius. He glanced back at the bathroom door, where Dashkyr Tee was still holed up, probably gulping water like a stranded astronaut.

“You sly bastard,” he muttered, realizing the Dashkyr’s “water” excuse was a cover for something bigger. Maybe it knew about the tunnel. Maybe it was playing tricks on him.

The tunnel led to a surface exit, but it was risky, too risky for a casual stroll and he needed the Dashkyr’s suit to get past.

He turned back, ready to drag the impostor out, then the bathroom door opened. Dashkyr Tee emerged, water dripping from the chin of its suit.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Pete smirked. “This isn’t about water, is it?”

The Dashkyr was confused, then tilted its head to the mirror. “You found one of the secret passages, so you did know your way out.”

Before Pete could respond, the alarms blared and red lights flooded the corridor, danger was coming.

The passage had been left open for too long, and that triggered the alarm.

A warning triangle flashed on the large panel with the words, Intruder Alert, Sector 4 Compromised.

Pete grabbed the Dashkyr’s arm, pulling it into the entrance. “Move!” he snarled, shoving it toward the dark passage.

Heavy stomping sounds could be heard behind them, and it was approaching fast.

He turned back to get a glance while sprinting and saw bright shimmers in the distance coming their way.

“What the hell are those?” He asked, sprinting beside Dashkyr Tee.

“Trackers,” the Dashkyr panicked. “Assassins… they're like us.”

The thought of being chased by assassins sent a chill down his spine. The shimmer slowly turned into armored figures in black and gold suits about 7 feet tall.

But something more disturbed him. “What do you mean, like us?”

A blast of green energy flew past, scorching the wall. The Dashkyr stumbled and its helmet slipped off, it rolled to its feet, and that's when Pete pieced things together and realized it.

Its glowing green eyes, inconsistent facial features, green blood dripping from a cut, and an urgent need for water.

“You’re one of them, damn shapeshifters!” Pete shoved it against a tunnel wall, his blood boiled with rage. “You bastard!” he roared clenching his fists.