Sunday 4 August 2013

Electric Dreams

High above us, the storm's fury crashed against the glass dome of the laboratory. The capacitor bank sung, dials leaping. Before us lay the ragged chunks of miscellaneous men, crudely stitched together with catgut and fishing hooks.

"Igor!" exclaimed the doctor (I’d always hated that nickname). "It is time!"

He threw the great switch; the imprisoned lightning surged into this parody of a corpse. It crackled immediately, blue flame wreathing its naked form. We both retched as the intestines ignited and burst.

The doctor gaped in bewilderment as the vile meat burned.

"Well," I said, "what did you bloody expect?"