DISPOSABLE: 1.2
Crunch.
Silence. Ripley nods once and begins slowly pressing down on the syringe's plunger until it reaches the bottom, then withdraws it from the flesh with a smooth motion. At first, nothing happens; but Payne leans slightly forward, focusing more of his weight downward. Ripley's hands hover over the dead man's forearms in practiced precaution.
And rightly so; the body begins at once to twitch, and not even seconds later to convulse. Blood squelches and sprays across the floor and onto Ripley’s suit, but he makes no indication of being bothered by this as his hands close around the corpse's thrashing arms, lips pursed. Payne closes his eyes and looks away as a wet, retching sound like mud being pushed through a pipe gurgles out of the corpse’s throat.
"Here we go,” Ripley mutters, watching their patient’s midsection with an unreadable expression.
The exposed tissue begins now to writhe and squirm as if sentient; wet, sucking noises reverberate off the walls as the flesh sluggishly knits itself back together with pulpy crimson tendrils and sinews. Several feet of small intestine, still strewn across the floor, begin to bunch and squirm, gathering and folding its length back into the open abdominal cavity. The crushed bones are quickly encapsulated with gleaming white cartilage, under which they can be seen reconstructing themselves into proper vertebrae and realigning themselves with moist cracking noises. Subcutaneous fat and muscle grope back towards their respective places, and over it all stretches raw, red skin - fresh skin, which immediately breaks out in waves of goosebumps.
Both men watch with mingled expressions of disgust and interest.
"He's her pet," Payne grumbles, curling his lip. "She oughta feed and water him. And do this crap herself."
"Easy," Ripley warns, snapping his head around to glare at Payne. "I wouldn't say such things if I were you. Watch yourself."
"Just sayin'." Payne's expression dims in annoyance, but he drops it.
The gurgling sounds from the body begin to diminish quickly over the next minute. It has miraculously twisted and contorted itself back into order; and if not for the tattered bloodsoaked clothing, one might never have known that he had been beyond saving only seconds prior. As the final layers of skin stitch themselves together, his chest rises once, then drops. And then the body finally lies still.
Ripley releases the man’s arms and Payne quickly stands, brushing his hands off on his pants.
As soon as the men move away, the body heaves with a single croaking cough. Then a second, followed by a burst of small phlegmy coughs that send spittle spraying into the musty air above him.
And then, wild-eyed and wide awake, he sits bolt upright as if struck by lightning, desperately sucking air into his lungs.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," says Payne with a smirk.
