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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Theeaglestrikes on 2025-02-08 03:19:52+00:00.
The dead aren’t supposed to come back.
This Something was neither God nor the Devil, though it came from what must be the closest thing to that Great Beyond from religious scriptures.
Knowing what I know, I wish that I’d never been born at all, as that’s the only way to escape it all. From the moment we come to exist, there is no way out. And I have been cursed, for my sin of challenging nature, to face the place that comes after death. A place already torturous enough for those who do play by the rules.
But it’ll be far more wretched for us.
On January 31st, 2025, my colleagues and I witnessed an event unexplainable by the laws of nature—or, at the very least, unexplainable by our laws of nature. By that, I mean that there are hidden threads which bind our reality together. Threads left unaddressed by even the futuristic science of this agency. Threads which bind us to other realities, and places past reality.
Threads of magic, to our primitive minds.
And I say all of these things as a biochemist—as a pragmatic man. I’m still an atheist. That’s the worst part.
You see, no religion accounts for what we experienced.
Test Subject 147 died on January 26th, and he was resurrected on January 31st. He was nobody special. An ordinary man who died in an extraordinarily terrible way during a hike; he tripped and struck his head against a rock, suffering a fatal head trauma.
147 was one of many recently deceased subjects entered into this medical trial. A trial orchestrated by my unnamed government branch. We were striving to conquer death, in a way, but this was less about achieving immortality and more about reversing tragic events—helping those who have died as the result of unnatural causes, such as 147’s head wound. We utilised technology far beyond anything accessible within the modern world—the public world—of machines and medicine.
147 was one of many subjects seemingly fated for failure. We worked tirelessly to revive the patient, but days passed, and his body decayed. Yet, we battled against nature, repairing damage to 147’s skin, brain, lungs, heart, and so forth. Time was of the essence—after all, even our advanced scientific procedure had limitations.
In any public hospital, you would be told, after a matter of hours, that a deceased patient could not be revived. But this wasn’t a public hospital. It was an unholy place.
And for our act of defiance against the natural world, and that other place, my colleagues and I will all burn in a place darker than Hell. I no longer think Hell exists at all, in all honesty. I think it’s a soft, cosy fantasy our ancestors invented to distract themselves from the real afterlife. Something far worse.
I don’t want to get bogged down by a tangent on various religious ideologies. I don’t know whether any sacred text is right. All I know is that there exists something. I’ve seen it. Seen where souls go to rest. It exists beyond, below, above, and between the very atoms of our reality—that’s why some still feel the presence of their deceased loved ones.
After jolting upright at 7:17pm on January 31st, Subject 147 didn’t utter anything profound. All the man on the operating table had to say—well, rather, scream—for himself was:
“NO!”
A dozen Frankensteins gasped as they marvelled at their creation. We were witches and wizards of science, eyeing 147 like a specimen in a Petri dish, rather than a human being.
By that point, 147 should’ve been a bloated corpse, but putrification had been stalled—undone, even—by the medical and technological sorcery of our doctors. Subject 147 was a medical marvel. No doubt about that. But we were forgetting that he was also a human. A soul.
I speechlessly remained at the side of the room and gawped aimlessly as my colleagues rushed towards the table. Resurrection had always been the objective, but I’d only ever seen it as a hypothetical. I was struggling to accept the reality of the situation. Before Subject 147, no human on Earth had been clinically dead for longer than 17 hours.
For good reason.
The following transcript comes from video footage recorded on that day—evidence which, much like everything else I’ve told you, is classified. None of that matters now. Everything pales in the face of the Great Beyond.
Subject 147: Where am I?
Dr. Thatcher: Hello, Mr. [Redacted]. My name’s Dr. Thatcher. This may be hard for you to understand, but you’re in a… Well, let’s call it a private clinic.
[Subject does not respond]
Dr. Thatcher: You’re in shock, which is quite understandable, but I promise that you’re safe. In fact, we just saved your life.
Subject 147: No. I was dead.
Dr. Thatcher: [Pauses] Remarkable. Do you mind explaining how you know that, Mr. [Redacted]? Were you aware of your ‘passing’, so to speak?
Subject 147: How am I here?
Dr. Thatcher: Modern medicine and a team of highly-trained specialists. We’ve been attempting to heal and revive deceased patients.
Subject 147: But I hit my… [Subject touches head wound] How did you fix… No, no, no. I shouldn’t be here. I was gone for too long. I was gone for…
Dr. Thatcher: Five days, Mr. [Redacted]. Do you understand? This wasn’t a standard resuscitation procedure. We healed your decay. We reversed death itself. This raises many existential questions, I’m sure, but I’m more concerned with science than philosophy. The mere fact that you’re alive and talking is a miracle in itself.
[Subject does not respond]
Dr. Thatcher: When we finally introduce this research to the scientific community, you’ll go down in history. I know you don’t fully understand, but—
Subject 147: You keep saying that, Doctor, but you’re the one who doesn’t understand. You shouldn’t have brought me back. I keep telling you that I… [Pauses] That I was gone for too long.
Dr. Thatcher: I understand that this must be an incredibly stressful experience for you, Mr. [Redacted], but I promise that you have nothing to fear. You’re healthy. Your body was kept from—
Subject 147: Do you want to know about my experience of death? Do you want to know what I saw?
Dr. Thatcher: Well, as I said, I’m a scientist, not a philosopher. I’m intrigued, of course, but it’ll be for others to decide whether your “memories” should be called spiritual or psychological phenomena. I personally believe that, as your body shut down at the time of death, your brain will have fired—
Subject 147: I’m not talking about my brain. I’m not talking about my body either. I’m talking about the… Well, I don’t know whether I believe in a soul. I just know I’ve been somewhere. A dark place between places. Here, but not here. Floating in the black. Trying to scream, but having no mouth to release the sound. Having nothing but the dark and my thoughts.
Dr. Thatcher: Well, that’ll be a fascinating conversation to have with religious and philosophical experts, but I’m a biochemist, Mr. [Redacted]. I’m more concerned with the—
Subject 147: —With the science; yes, so you keep saying. But I’m telling you that I was somewhere. And as dark as that place may have been, there are darker places. I’ve seen them.
Dr. Thatcher: [Speaking to Dr. Carlton] Go and fetch Dr. Rawles whilst I continue talking with the subject.
Subject 147: My name is [Redacted], and you’re not listening to me.
Dr. Thatcher: Please calm down, Mr. [Redacted]. You need to watch your blood levels. Your body has endured massive trauma. When Dr. Rawles arrives, she’s going to run some tests on you—check your bodily functions. In the meantime, I want you to know that I am listening to you, but you’re not thinking clearly right now. As I said, that’s understandable. You’ve achieved something that the human body shouldn’t be able to do.
Subject 147: Yes. Finally, we agree on something.
Dr. Thatcher: For different reasons. It shouldn’t be possible, but we made it possible. You made it possible. This will change humanity, Mr. [Redacted]. You’ll come to see that once you’ve settled into your body. Settled into living again.
Subject 147: Oh, I’m not going to be here for long, Doctor. He won’t allow that.
Dr. Thatcher: “He”?
Subject 147: It. And it will torture us all forever, Doctor. That empty place I described? It is nothing compared to the other place I saw.
Dr. Thatcher: Right. I’m more than a little worried about your mental state, Mr. [Redacted]. But Dr. Rawles is on her way, and she’ll tell us whether the machines are right—whether your body ticks the boxes. In the meantime, I’d like you to just lie back down and, as I said, remain calm.
Of course, not all was transcribed—and certainly not all of the horror that followed.
Firstly, the transcript doesn’t account for the conversation I had with Dr. Glenfield. We were leaning against the room’s side-wall, giving Dr. Thatcher and Subject 147 a wide berth whilst they talked.
“What do you think is wrong with him?” Glenfield asked near-silently, before nodding at the patient—I’d thought, for a moment, that she might be talking about Dr. Thatcher, and that made me smile slightly.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “but none of this seems right, does it? The man’s vitals are fine.”
“Well, we should wait until Dr. Rawles has confirmed that, shouldn’t we?” she pointed out.
I nodded. …
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ikdqix/we_resurrected_a_man_who_had_been_dead_for_5_days/