Arachnoextinction Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven - Welcome to My Mammoth Room

Read chapter 11 of Arachnoextinction by ShowerKrogan on NovelPedia.

As we walked into the room, my jaw dropped straight through the floor. "Dr. Gale… welcome to my mammoth room." The room was gigantic, bigger than I had imagined. At least forty feet high, maybe fifty. The walls and ceiling were made of some kind of dark gray metal. No glass walls here. I could assume that was an extra security measure to ensure no one saw what was happening within this room. I was left wondering how the heck I had not noticed this giant metal part of the facility when I had first entered the building. The room was as long and wide as a football field. Right in the middle of the room, was a metal tube that rose and connected to the ceiling. It was about forty feet in diameter and had dozens of wires attached to the back. The wires ran across the floor and then fed into a small room that was attached to the ceiling and the far wall. That room was a small metal box, but had a large glass window that faced toward the tube. "Good lord almighty," was all I could say as I took everything in. "Like what you see?" Dr. Kale asked, his smugness radiating off him. "How long would it take to get the mammoth up and going?" I asked. "Not long at all," he said. "It's fully formed, all organs ready and working. It's basically in nothing more than a deep sleep, ready to be awakened." "So, what? You flip a switch and it's wandering around like no big deal?" I said. It seemed a bit far-fetched. Then again, we were talking about bringing an extinct animal back to life, so maybe nothing was as far-fetched as I would normally think. "That's what it boils down to, I suppose, but it's a little more involved than just that. We would need at least an hour's notice to run all the final tests; we would want to be positive it won't die a miserable death right as it finally lives again. But yes, a flip of a switch, and we will have a live mammoth stomping around. Alive and well. For the first time in our history, humans bring a species of animal back to life instead of driving them to extinction," Dr. Kale said and began shuffling across the floor. "It is certainly historic, if nothing else. But unfortunately, first things first. We have a problem to solve before the fun can begin. Are the security cameras in that room?" I asked and pointed to the room near the ceiling. "Yes, indeedy, my good sir! That's my personal office in this fine facility. I hope you're not afraid of heights," he said. “We have a decent climb up some stairs without any sides or railings.” "For the most part, no, I'm not afraid of heights. I mean, sometimes. I fly in planes and ride roller coasters, I can do that kind of stuff just fine. I wouldn’t go parachuting or, I don’t know, jumping down a massive hole with some kind of rope tied to me. Not a big fan of helicopters, really. But for this moment, as long as nothing in that room has eight legs and eyes, I'm fine," I said. "So, is there anything else you fear more than spiders?" Dr. Kale asked me. He seemed almost offended. "Snakes," I said with a shrug. "Oh, do I have some amazing prehistoric snakes to show you!" he said with an excited roar of laughter. "The length of these snakes, I mean, my goodness. And the teeth! Oh, the massive fangs some of these slithering beasts had. They could tear through cars, buses even! They make these spiders seem like cuddly teddy bears." Dr. Kale gave a satisfied sigh as he swooned over the snakes. “What a time to be alive.” "What on Earth is wrong with you? Pass. Don't even try to bring those back," I said with a stern look that I hoped was intimidating. "Yeah, yeah," he said, waving me off. "We have more than enough going on here." We made it across the room and stood underneath the office. I glanced over at Dr. Kale to see if he was going to do anything. There were no stairs or any other way up to the room. "Um-," I started. Then Dr. Kale slapped his hand against the metal wall and held it there for a moment. The metal around his hand grew bright red, and a loud “ding” echoed acr