No Body Knows: A Zombie ACRES Story

A man walks into a laboratory. This is your typical, run of the mill, type science guy; mid-twenties, dark hair (cut short and presentable), glasses, and a white lab coat.

Always the same thing... Day in, day out...

Dr. Beckwith goes about his usual daily routine.

Grab coffee...

Grab coffee...

Sign sheet...

Sign sheet...

Check experiment...

This is where Dr. Beckwith's day becomes untypical. This is no ordinary experiment. This experiment has a name. This experiment is Fred. Fred was a good man; had a good job to support his wife and two kids, coached little league baseball for his son, just an all around friend to all. Then Fred had an accident.

" I hate your smell. You stink."

I stink? Have you smelled that garbage you call cologne?!

Dr. Beckwith walks out of the room. Just a few minutes later he returns, pushing a metal cart ahead of him and pulling a tall, metal cabinet on wheels behind him. He parks the metal cart in front of Fred.

Again with these tests?

Fred was standing upright, arms and legs spread wide, and naked as the day he was born. Metal buckles on his arms and legs, as well as his chest and waist, were fixing him securely to the wall. It's as if this good man were now a threat - some sort of monster even.

I want to do what you ask... I really do.

Dr. Beckwith pushes the metal cabinet to one side of the cart. He walks back out of the room and returns with one more metal cabinet. This one is smaller, only waist high, yet heavier.

NO!! Why that one again?! It didn't work the last three times, why would it this time?!!

Once the final cabinet is in place next to the metal cart, Dr. Beckwith opens the top and starts attaching electrodes all over Fred's body. Once every electrode is attached, Dr. Beckwith walks over to the larger cabinet and opens it up.

From here he pulls a child's toy. It is a bright colored, wooden shape sorter; the kind you pound with a hammer. This is set on the cart, in front of Fred. Dr. Beckwith pulls a syringe full of some purple liquid from his pocket. He uncaps the syringe and plunges it into Fred's, only slightly, decaying neck.

He waits for five minutes exactly and then unleashes Fred's hand and arm bindings.

I'm hungry. Please feed me.

Fred turns his head and reaches out towards Dr. Beckwith, who steps back a couple steps. He knows that the three metal bindings on each leg will hold any experiment in place, but Fred is a big guy and Dr. Beckwith has bad childhood memories with bigger boys in school.

" Some days I love my job."

How could you?! You're a monster!

Dr. Beckwith chuckles as he walks back to the smaller cabinet and starts flipping switches and turning knobs.

" Dr. Beckwith here. The date is August 13 ^th , 1982. I am here with experiment-"

My name is Fred.

" SB821787. I will be performing the Physical Sensory Stimulation tests. We have seen no reaction with past experiments, nor with this specific experiment, but recent changes to Serum 89 are believed to promote a higher physical reaction."

Do you mean make my mistakes cost more? Or will I actually be able to do what you want this time? Oh, that would be so nice for us both.

" OK, SB821787. I need you to pick up the hammer sitting in front of you." Dr. Beckwith's voice was calm, as a medical doctor would be with a patient. "Do you see the hammer sitting next to the blocks?"

Of course I see your hammer. I'm not blind.

The experiment turns his head up at the doctor, and then back down to the blocks in front of him. With his cold, gray hand he reaches out and clumsily fumbles around the table, knocking over blocks (and almost the whole sorter onto the floor), until he finally lands on the hammer. Slowly, he grips onto the bright orange hammer.

There. We knew how that would go. Don't I get a treat for being a good dog?

" Now pick up the square peg, SB821787. The green one."

I was color blind before my accident. Isn't that in your chart somewhere? Hell, I don't even remember seeing a chart for me, now that I think about it.

The other cold, gray hand reaches out for the square peg. This hand was missing it's ring finger. The wound did not look healed, but wasn't bleeding at all either. He lifts the peg and sets it on top of the sorter.

I know what you want me to do and I can do that part of it.

" Put the peg in the correct shaped hole. The hole is also green, like the peg in your hand."

There really needs to be a chart somewhere. Anyways, I am sure I can do this this time though. I know the peg is square. I know the opening is square also. Just do it, Fred.

The orange hammer lifts up and slams down onto the peg, which is over the circle opening.

Ahhh! Shit!! You, bastard. You should be glad my motor functions aren't working or I'd kick your ass.

Dr. Beckwith smiles as he slowly turns one of the large knobs on the small cart up.

" Again. Experiment SB821787, take the green, square peg and hammer it into the green, square hole, please."

OK, Fred. Let's do this. Don't want to get shocked again, do we? No we do not. Hell no we don't! Square peg... Square hole...

Again, the hammer slams down onto the square peg, which is once again over the circle hole.

OH GOD!!! Why?!! The pain! You are a sick man. How can you do this to another creature? Forget kicking your ass, I'd kill you if I could find the functions to pull it off.

Dr. Beckwith turns the large knob, which was half way up by this point, back down to zero. He walks up to Fred and plunges another syringe into his neck, this time containing a red liquid.

It burns!! Holy shit does it burn!! My insides are on fire!! What is this?!!

" SB821787. I need you to take the square peg that is already in your hand and hammer it into the square hole on the sorter for me."

At least he didn't tell me they're both green.

" They are both green."

Of course. OK. Concentrate. My body is on fire though. How can I concentrate on anything? I have to.

Dr. Beckwith's hand steadies on the large knob, a grin already forming on his face. Once again the gray hand raises the square peg up into the air. The hammer slams down and Dr. Beckwith's mouth falls open.

I did it!! I finally did it!!

Surprised at an actual positive result, Dr. Beckwith pauses the tape recording while he composes himself. After a few deep breaths, he turns the recording back on.

" SB821787. I need you to pick up the blue triangle peg and place it in the blue triangle hole on the sorter"

You can call it any color you want, I know triangle!! I can do triangle!!

Dr. Beckwith's mouth falls open once more.

" Holy shit."

Read the other Zombie A.C.R.E.S. stories at ZombieACRES.com

Or on the Yahoo! Contributor Network
The Interview: A Zombie A.C.R.E.S. Intro
Tough Love: A Zombie A.C.R.E.S. Story
The Boy Who Cried Zombie: A Zombie A.C.R.E.S. Story
No Place Like Home: A Zombie A.C.R.E.S. Story
Always and Forever: A Zombie A.C.R.E.S. Story