Playing God

Carl was an engineer and spent lots of time perfecting things. The woman on the screen before us was called Danyelle. Unfortunately, her image kept disappearing, while Carl frantically hit keys on his laptop. We could hear her high, feminine voice-- she looked distinguished and sounded quite educated.
My fellow writers, gathered around the table,were unnerved, especially after Danyelle vanished for good, leaving a white screen. Carl cursed and blamed faulty Skype.
Afterwards, we waited until Carl left, looking annoyed. Keith opined that something evil was afoot and we agreed. We decided to break into Carl's house and search the basement for anything strange. Carl was a sound sleeper-- we knew this because he often dozed off during our readings.
Lena jimmied the lock that night and, using flashlights, we found the basement door. It didn't take more than five seconds to spot the body lying on the table. It was the entity known as Danyelle, eyes closed, wires attached everywhere.
Something evil is afoot, Ron said. Keith smacked him. That's my line, he said. Susan examined the thing up and down, frowning. He gave her blue nail polish. Ugh!
We sneaked out of the house and back to my car. There was only one conclusion: Carl was playing God.
The next writing session a week later, we were tense, not sure what this madman had planned. The door opened and there she stood--Danyelle in the flesh, if that's what you want to call it. We tried to act surprised and impressed.
See, Carl barked, I told you she was real. His smile was as smug and phony as this entity. All through the prompts being read around the table we were aware of the moral and ethical implications here.
He changed the polish to pink and gave her a beautiful brooch, Susan whispered.
Carl looked up suspiciously, but she smiled, deflating the tension. Danyelle winked at me. I almost threw up inside my mouth.