Lazarus Pit Novels & Stories

It's as if my soul is being cast out of Cassidy's body. Is this it? I am a devil? The fact that the words of the Holy Bible is slashing my flesh like knives and the holy water like acid burning through my flesh are evidence enough that I have finally lost my last straw of humanity. I tried to hold on to it, for the sake of one last chance on earth, to feel human, to feel loved and to belong, but this, this is not me. I am no longer Hannah, I am the devil himself. My heart is aching not because of the torture the priest is subjecting me to, but because of the hurt I feel, as I feel my last chance to have a happy normal life, slipping away from me.

"ah!!!!!!!!!!" I couldn't care less about the pain coming from my calf, so I jumped up and tried to climb up, but there was no place to climb on the wall of the pit, and the only depression on it was the unreadable seal script, which seemed to become more clear after being stained with my blood. Probably too much blood loss accompanied by excessive shock, my brain began to confuse, and fell back heavily, desperately looking at the moon hanging in the night sky, cursing the son of a b***h who tricked me into coming here.

As I walked through the streets of Chicago with a small box of crap from my desk, I felt almost like a zombie; like my physical body was there, but my brain was a million miles away. I wasn't even crying anymore... I just felt empty; like I didn't have anything going for me anymore.

I have a second—maybe two— of feeling stunned at the sight of the woman standing in front of me wearing a gray hooded top. “What are you doing here?” I don’t get a verbal response. I get a physical one when something cold and hard nudges my belly. Before I can look to see what it is, I’m screaming in agony as my body shudders from an electrical current running through me. It makes everything go light and then dark around the edges. But only for a moment. The darkness spreads. The last memory I have is of my head cracking on the ground. After that? Not a damn thing.

--- That evening, Deimon Ashworth sat deep in the embrace of his penthouse sofa, soft jazz playing through hidden speakers and curling into the air. The notes were slow, unhurried, drifting through the low amber light that bathed the room in gold. After the Lazarus Pit had sealed every psychological wound he had incurred, or had simply patched it up for the meantime, Deimon had decided to savor the evening to himself. Just tonight, before stepping into the storm that inevitably awaits him.

We recounted our experiences in painstaking detail, the horrors of the caverns, the chilling experiments, and the terrifying encounter with the creature lurking within the restricted access section. Agent [redacted], along with a team of analysts, listened intently, their faces grim as they pieced together the puzzle of Damien's project. It became clear that Project Lazarus wasn't just about reviving the dead; it was about creating an army of augmented humans, soldiers with superhuman strength and resilience. The green liquid, according to preliminary tests, was a potent bio-modifier, capable of altering human physiology at a cellular level. In the wrong hands, it could be a weapon of unimag

"What do you want?" The figure chuckled, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. "I go by Lazarus," he said, stepping further into view. "But you may already know me."His eyes flickered toward Seraphina."You're quite special, Seraphina. I must admit, I'm intrigued." Seraphina's heart thudded painfully in her chest. Lazarus the name stirred something ancient inside her, a fear she thought she had buried long ago."Lazarus,"she whispered, her voice trembling. "You were exiled. You should be dead."

"That's going to be really embarrassing when word gets out. Assuming anyone from your facility is still alive to care about your reputation." Lazarus lunged at the bars of the cell, his hands passing through briefly before the light intensified again, forcing him back. He stumbled, clutching his hands to his chest, smoke rising from his skin where the light had burned him. "I will not spill my secrets," Lazarus hissed. "You can torture me all you want, but I've endured worse than anything you can imagine. I've survived centuries of—"

Lazarus said, his honeyed voice making me uneasy. “I am good.” I’m trying to appease to the side of him that likes my submission because I wasn’t about to gamble with my life. “It seems you neglected to tell me important details from your past.” He remarked, turning around and diminishing the space between us. His orbs were stark black, emulating darkness and death. Lazarus grabbed my wrists in a punishing hold, dragging me towards the X. “We had a deal.” I cried. “Deals are made between people with power. Unfortunately, you have none.” He bit out. “Humans are diabolic to the core, they always have been and even repressed – they still are.”

I was accessing something Kane didn't know existed, a failsafe I had buried deep within the system for a nightmare scenario exactly like this. The Lazarus Protocol. Hidden seventeen layers deep in my system architecture, it was a virus designed to completely purge all data if unauthorized access was detected. Scorched earth. If I couldn't keep Kane from stealing my empire, I'd make sure there was nothing left to steal. But I needed thirty seconds to input the full command sequence. And Kane was watching my every keystroke. I typed the first line of code. */root/lazarus/init* Kane leaned closer to the screen, suspicious. "What's that command?"