Lazarus

The mind that lay dormant—not dead—in the corpse of Lazarus Jacobi was not Lazarus Jacobi. His body lay pristine although the lettering had long since faded from the simple granite stone that marked the forgotten graveside. It could have been just like any other stone in the area, the product of bygone eras when glaciers had carved their way through the valleys, deepening their sides and leaving stones scattered about like crumbs. It could have been any stone, except that this stone was the wrong kind of granite. And, although it was so severely weathered as to remove any evidence of human tools, the thing had far too regular a look to it. No, the unfortunate truth was that although Jacobi's body lay dead, his mind had found a new body among us— unfortunate, because of the displaced mind that now lay imprisoned in his tomb. For Jacobi, however, there was no fortune to be considered, as this had always been his gambit.