Hello, A few weeks ago, I bought an old, long-abandoned house and, of course, did a lot of cleaning. In the process, I came across an old diary with the inscription “Lazarus Serum Experiments,” which apparently belonged to the previous owner of the house. I find the content very intriguing, but even though it could potentially explain the peculiarities of the house, I simply can’t believe that all of this actually happened. Anyway, here is the content of the first three entries:
March 25, 1986: From now on, I will document my experiments in this book, as I am soon ready to start my first attempt. My first subject is a bird that apparently died due to an illness and seems externally intact. I dare not use a larger subject as my initial research base, as I am well aware of the risks. Furthermore, the room for the subject is a windowless basement chamber with a double-lockable metal door. If all goes well, the substance I have created should be able to bring the subject back to life. Tomorrow it will finally be time.
March 26, 1986: The night passed agonizingly slowly as I waited for morning to break. My basement lab was filled with oppressive silence, only interrupted by the occasional drip of the faucet in the corner. The cold of this windowless room crept into my bones, creating an unsettling shiver. The metal door behind me felt like it was sealing out the darkness. The dead bird, which I had kept in a box, now lay on the rusty metal table in the center of the room. Its lifeless eyes stared at me, as if holding a grim secret.
With trembling hands, I secured the subject on the table, its wings and legs strapped with leather restraints. The light from the sparse bulb above me cast eerie shadows in the room, and I could hear the faint hum of electricity, which condensed into an ominous whisper in my ears. Slowly, almost mechanically, I picked up the syringe with the serum. Its contents shimmered in a pale, unnatural green. My heart raced as I inserted the needle and injected the first drop of the serum into the bird’s lifeless body. I felt my breath catch as I slowly pressed the serum into its veins.
The subject suddenly moved, its wings twitched uncontrollably, and a faint, tortured caw escaped its beak. A shiver ran down my spine as I saw its eyes move as if slowly awakening to life. I left the room to prevent the reanimated creature from escaping and stared at the camera feed for the rest of the day, unable to detect any further movement from the subject. It seems that the serum was only successful for a very short time, but I will verify this with my own eyes tomorrow.
March 27, 1986: Yesterday’s events have plunged me into a whirlpool of fear and confusion. When I returned to the basement this morning, the bird was on the table where I had left it. It lay motionless, as if it had never awakened, and its eyes were once again lifeless, showing no signs of life. It was as if nothing had happened yesterday. I glanced at the surveillance camera recording the room. The footage clearly showed the bird coming to life yesterday, but now it had reverted to its dead state. Uncertainty gnawed at me as I approached the subject. I checked for its heartbeat, but there was none, and there was no response at all. Carefully, I removed the restraints from its wings and legs to dispose of the failure and toss it into the flames.
As I leaned over to examine the creature more closely, I suddenly felt a cold draft and heard a faint fluttering. Startled, I jumped back, and the bird rose with a single, croaking cry. It landed on the floor of the basement and began to spin wildly, its wings flapping in an eerie pattern. But this time, it felt different. It was not a lively movement but a grotesque distortion of life and death, as if it were trapped between both states. I froze in terror, unable to take my eyes off the bird. It seemed to lose itself in the room as its cries grew more desperate. This was not a revival; it was a grotesque perversion of life that should never have existed. Panicked, I rushed out of the basement and locked the metal door behind me.
The subject remained inside, still trapped in this bizarre dance. I honestly don’t know how to react to this development. What is certain is that I need to further examine the subject. Theoretically, it should starve to death on its own in the near future. In any case, I will call my good friend and colleague, Dr. Smith, today and ask him to pay me a visit.