One with them

          As the ominous darkness grew larger and larger, Diaz prepared to close the mortuary for the night. It was a cold, monotone Friday night, and Diaz had been working for 14 hours that day, so he felt relieved when the clock struck 11 o’clock.

He had always been a huge admirer of the dead and had always dreamt of becoming a mortician, even though he was always called a sick weirdo and an outcast by the small town’s residents, even his deceased wife worried about his mental well-being after he took her some photos of his workday after his 20th anniversary of working in the despised mortuary.

              Everyone believed that the dead would rise up from their graves each night, murdering anyone who dared to step foot into their kingdom of pain and horror. But Diaz was no superstitious man: he always said that it was scientifically impossible for them to rise from their graves after the post-mortem stiffness.

Everyone said he was as crazy as the mortician before him, Ignacio, who jumped from the spire of the chapel which was located right next to the mortuary and the graveyard. But this night was different. Right when Diaz thought of the walking dead, he suddenly heard some kind of strange noise coming from the southern corner of the graveyard.

Lakatos Áron   IX. R

A sound.

A faint, dragging sound, like something heavy being pulled across the floor below me. I held my breath. It came again, slower, closer. My heart started to race. Nobody else had the keys and nobody was alive in this house but me.

I grabbed my flashlight, and went down the stairs as quietly as I could. The air grew colder with every step. The smell of death got stronger and stronger. I reached the room, turned on the light… and froze.

One of the drawers was open. And empty. For a long moment, I just stood there, staring at the emptiness. I knew exactly which body had been there. I had prepared him myself, and I had sealed the drawer. It had been closed!

I started searching. I checked every corner, every table. The floor was wet, as if something, or someone had walked across it with bare feet. I followed the marks, though I’m not sure why. If I had known what I was about to find, maybe I wouldn’t have followed them at all.

Székely Rebeka   IX. H

The sun rose, and I was finally relieved, I never thought I would encounter such a thing, how is it that a person could go from breathing to becoming only an object? The day went by quickly, time was not on my side, and the darkness took over my house once again.

The previous night, I had locked everything up, so that I could get some rest, but apparently, I was wrong. I heard a clicking sound, and I observed as one of the little girls, whom I had examined last week, got out and walked away like nothing happened. She didn’t even acknowledge me, which I thought was good, turned out it wasn’t.

I continued my nightly routine. Suddenly, as I was looking out the window, I noticed a silhouette in the reflection, but when I turned, it was gone. I prepared myself for the worst, only to find out it wasnt enough. The little girls came up to me and watched as I lay down, ready to sleep.

I woke up the next morning, but something felt different, I realized I wasnt in my bed, I was lying next to my patients, only to realise I had become one of them. I always admired how a person could become an object in a moment, how one thing goes wrong and you become one with the ground. I just never thought I would become one of those things so quickly.

Iedlicska Nóra   IX. H