In a small, secretive town where everyone knows each other’s name but no one shares their truths, a mortuary becomes a sanctuary for escape. Tasked with an unusual night watch, the protagonist stumbles upon strange occurrences that challenge his understanding of life, death, and the spaces in between. When mysterious bodies start arriving with no origin and unsettling sounds echo from the autopsy room, he must confront the shadows within the mortuary—and the deeper mysteries that shroud the town itself.
“The boy, with a curious glint in his eye, reached out and gently prodded the lifeless fish. His fingers brushed against its unblinking eye, eerily open even in death. Isn’t it fascinating to think that we’ve always believed death means closing our eyes to the world around us?”
I never questioned why I was hired for this position. The pay was too generous to refuse, and it offered a convenient escape from home—a home shared with a wife whose perpetual irritability was enough to drive anyone to seek solitude. At night, I find myself drawn to the mortuary, a place where silence reigns, and I take on the peculiar role of guardian to its shadows. Why the dead need someone to watch over them remains a mystery I’ve learned not to ask.
That night began like any other—or so I thought. Arriving an hour early, I felt the familiar weight of anticipation settle over me. A few notes sat on my desk, scribbled reminders of the evening’s mundane routine. The clipboard in front of me listed the day’s arrivals: bodies shrouded in mystery, devoid of signatures or traceable origins.
This town, steeped in an air of intimacy, is a place where every face is familiar, and every interaction feels personal. Yet beneath the surface lies an unspoken code of silence, an undercurrent of secrets the townsfolk seem hesitant to acknowledge. One peculiar custom, in particular, remains shrouded in mystery, whispered about only in hushed tones.
A sudden chill coursed through me, raising the fine hairs on my skin. Though I am not superstitious, my faith compels me to respect the mysteries that lie beyond comprehension. Then, a jarring clank shattered the silence, reverberating through the mortuary like a warning. The sound of metal tumbling to the floor echoed through the dim corridor, drawing my gaze toward the final door—the autopsy room.
The frosted glass of the door betrayed a soft glow from within, a faint and steady light that refused to surrender to the encroaching night. As I approached, the glass seemed to ripple with an unsettling suggestion: a shadowy figure lingered just beyond, obscured but undeniably present.
My thoughts spiraled into a storm of improbable scenarios, each more implausible than the last. The rational part of me whispered reassurances, but in that moment, a deeper, primal awareness emerged—a profound understanding that the world is not as it appears to our eager, untrained gaze.
A quiet night in the mortuary turns into a harrowing confrontation with the unknown. Write about a character tasked with watching over the dead who begins to notice peculiarities in the bodies, the building, and the behavior of the living around them. How do they grapple with their growing unease, and what truths—or horrors—do they uncover?