A Wake

A young woman, attending the wake for her dear Aunt Emma, encounters a terror she never realized she would encounter.

A Wake

It was a sad time for our family. Dear Aunt Emma died a week ago in her home from a heart attack. She was well along in age but was a great woman who would be missed. We were at the funeral home on this cold, rainy Friday night for the wake.

I sat in a chair close to the casket. I stared into it, gazing at Aunt Emma's expressionless face. I was probably taking this much harder than I should have. Near the end of her life, she needed assistance with some normal household duties that she couldn't do on her home due to her age. I, reluctantly at first, agreed to help her out. But as the days and weeks went by, I got to know her more than I thought I ever would. It was fascinating to hear her discuss life in the 30's and 40's, to hear her discuss historical events that I had only heard about in history class.

Two weeks ago she gave me a call. She wanted to know if I could help her at her house that week. She had gone to the doctor to undergo an operation and she was very weak. At the time, I was studying for exams and told her I couldn't do it. She thanked me for my time and hung up. I could hear the sadness in her voice as she did. She died a week later.

I really couldn't help but blame myself for her death. If only I'd been there, she'd be alive. A tear rolled down my cheek as I stared at her expressionless face in the coffin. I lowered my head, lost in my thoughts.

A hand on my shoulder startled me. I gasped and looked up. It was the mortician.

"I saw you sitting here all alone so I thought I would see if you wanted to talk. My name is Adam King."

I smiled, touched. "I'm Christina Gardner."

"Were you close to Emma?"

"I helped her out at home when I could. We became close."

"That's great. I'm always happy to hear that people who end up here had happy lives right to the end. It's one of the things that makes my job worth doing."

"And one heck of a job it is," I said.

Mr. King smiled. "Being a mortician is not the most desired career choice among young people but it does have its advantages."

"Name one."

"Customers don't complain too much."

"I would hope not."

"It's one of the few jobs that lets you have flowers around all the time."

"But flower shops don't have to hear 'Taps' all day."

"Granted, the music is somber. But you should see the wild fun we have here when there's no wakes."

We started laughing. "This is really cheering me up," I said. "Thank you."

"This is probably the best part of the job. Bringing smiles to sad faces."

Mr. King paused and looked around the room. He leaned in close to me and whispered, "Do you think anyone will notice if we left for a few minutes? I'll show you my workspace downstairs."

I looked at him. For some weird reason, I trusted this man. He had a certain grandfatherly charm about him that was just irresistible. "Let's go. You've got my curiosity."

I rose from the chair and followed him to the hallway. He led the way to a door I hadn't noticed when I first came in. He took a key form his pocket.

"Now we enter," he said in a bad Bela Lugosi impression, "to the laboratory."

He unlocked the door and opened it. The darkness seemed to flood out of the room like a light. he reached into the darkness and with the grace of a magician, light appeared. He led me down a flight of creaky wooden stairs to an ornately decorated room.

"Um, interesting," I lied.

"Well, let's just say I've got some peculiar tastes."

The room was carpeted with a thick orange rug. On the walls hung bizarre looking swords. On wooden stands around the room stood small vases. The room had the look of a museum and a circus sideshow.

"The vases are from an old friend who did some traveling around the Asian continent. They really have no value but they're personal mementos that mean a lot. The swords come from Japan."

"And the carpet?"

"That was on sale," he laughed.

He led me to a room around the corner. He flipped the light on. It was the garage where the bodies arrived.

"This is where we unload the people. We take them out and bring them in here," he said, pointing to another room to his left.

He opened the door to the room, turned on a light, and walked in. I followed.

A florescent light filled the room. What I saw looked like a cross between a hospital room and the biology room at the college. There was medical equipment on a table that was in the middle of the room and a glass cupboard with specimen filled jars. At the far end of the room, the wall was covered with metal doors; obviously home of the current residents.

"This is where we, uh, clean up our guests for their final presentation above ground."

"Ah. The messy part of the job."

"It can be. But doctors have it worse with live patients. Just watch TV."

He led me out of the room and shut off the light. We headed back toward the stairs and entered another room. He turned the lights on, revealing various caskets and urns.

"This room is kind of like a car dealership. We have a variety of models for every interest. We have the super deluxe model," he pointed to a shiny black casket, "we have the convenient family affordable model," he pointed to a simple looking brown casket, "and we have the 'You should have paid your bill!' model," he pointed to a refrigerator box. I laughed.

"We keep that here as a joke," he said.

"I never thought they had places like this. it seems so vain to have different kinds of caskets to be buried with. I mean, a casket is a casket."

"Well, people are that way. Vain to the end. But don't worry. Punishment is soon to come."

Where did that come from? I thought. That really killed the moment.

"This was all pretty interesting. Uh, i think I should be getting back upstairs now."

"Nonsense. Stay a while. Look at the caskets. What type of casket would you like if you died?"

He went over to the only exit and stood. I turned and looked at the caskets, beginning to shake. That's when the lights went out.

**********

"Mr. King?"

Silence.

"Mr. King!"

I turned around toward where he last stood. Even in the darkness, I knew he wasn't there. I was alone.

I slowly walked out of the room, careful not to bump into anything. I tried to control my shaking.

After many stumbles, I finally came into the vase room. i gasped when I saw the room. A strange blue glow was blaring down from the ceiling. It made the colors in the room, the orange carpet, the red curtains, the multi-colored vases, seem brighter and almost neon-like. The swords seemed bigger and more grotesque looking.

"Mr. King?"

No response.

"Where are you Mr. King?"

I was becoming more frightened by the second. By the blue glow, I could see the stairs. I ran over to them and ran to the top.

I reached for the door knob. It was cold in my hand. I turned it. It didn't move. I tried again. Still nothing. I frantically now tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge. I was trapped.

"Help me! Somebody help me! The mortician has locked me down here."

No response. I couldn't believe this. Nobody could hear me. I started hyperventilating. I turned to head back down the stairs.

"Hello sweetie."

I screamed. Standing in front of me was someone dressed in black robes with a white mask. The person grabbed me. Instinctively, I pushed at whoever it was. The person lost their balance on the step and fell down the stairs. With a sick sounding thud, they landed in a heap at the bottom.

I stared wide eyes at the person lying there. They wouldn't move. What was going on? I did the best I could to control my nerves and slowly walked down the stairs.

Step.

The creaking from the wood in the stairs made my heart raise faster.

Step.

What if that were Mr. King in the mask?

Step.

What if he were dead?

Step.

I set my foot down on the next step. i leaned my foot back and noticed something. there was air between the steps. Someone could be under the stairs ready to grab at me. I slowly bent down and looked between the gap in the stairs. From the blue glow, I saw nothing. I looked back up and froze with horror.

The person at the bottom of the stairs was gone.

I ran down the steps and reached the bottom. I looked back and forth to see if anything was waiting for me. Nothing.

What am I going to do? Whatever was going on, it was no joke. I might die. This had the feeling of a 1980's horror movie. I needed something to protect myself. I looked up at the swords. Better than nothing. I picked on off the wall. It was light in my hand and easy to maneuver. Holding it made me feel better. A bit.

Click.

A noise. I turned, facing the entrance of the garage.

Click.

"Hello?" I called out.

I stepped forward. I gripped the sword, prepared to use it.

"Who's there?"

Click.

I slowly walked into the garage. The blue glow seemed to follow. The garage seemed more cavernous than before. I couldn't see any walls but I knew I wasn't outside.

Click.

"Who are you? What are you trying to do to me?" I screamed.

"Kill you."

Someone lunged at me. I swung my sword at them but missed. They knocked me to the ground. I still had the sword in my hand.

"Time to die," they said.

I could see them clearly. With a black hand, they lifted up a butcher knife in the air. My sword hand was free. I desperately swung. The sword slashed the person's arm. They screamed. I pushed them off me, rising.

I kicked the knife out of their hand. I pinned the person to the ground. I leaned in close.

"Now it's time to see who you are."

I reached down and took off the mask. It was Mr. King.

"Why did you do this?"

"You'll see."

And he disappeared.

I waved my hand over the empty space where he was. Nothing was left. The only evidence he was even there was the butcher knife laying a few feet away from me.

I was beyond frightened now. The surprising thing was the fact that I felt calm. No shaking. I was breathing somewhat normally now. I had an adrenaline rush. At this point, I felt I could conquer an army.

A bright light temporarily blinded me. It was coming from the morgue. I grasped the sword and walked toward the light.

"Whoever is doing this needs to stop."

I walked into the morgue. The room, of all things that had changed, looked the same. No one was in the room.

"Quit being a coward and show your face," I screamed.

The door to the morgue suddenly slammed shut. The room went dark. Strobe lights started flickering through the room. I looked around. Something in the back caught my eye. The storage unit for the bodies. All the doors were open.

"Christina."

A voice. I know that voice. A movement to my left. I turned. Another person in black with a white mask. I swung the sword and hit it in the neck. It disappeared.

"Christina."

At my right, another person appeared. I swung the sword. The sword sliced through it's arm and went through the side of the chest. It disappeared as well.

"Christina."

Who is that?

Creature after creature came after me. The sword sliced through each and every one of them. They all disappeared.

"Christina."

No more creatures. The room was empty. The lights returned to normal. I clutched the sword in my hand.

"Come on out. Let's get this over with," I said.

The door to the morgue slowly opened. Tension and anxiety filled me like a bucket left outside during a hurricane. That voice. I knew that voice yet couldn't place it for some reason. The door opened and a figure stepped into the room. It couldn't be, I thought.

"Aunt Emma?"

I couldn't believe it. I lowered the sword. She's dead.

"Hello child."

"But I thought you were..."

"Dead? Oh yes, to everyone upstairs I'm dead. But you find out as you get old that there are ways to stick around if you have unfinished business to take care of. Unfortunately for you, you won't ever find out how."

She lifted her hand in the air. She held a butcher knife.

"You my child, are going to suffer your punishment."

"Punishment? For what?" I held my sword, ready to attack.

"For lying to an old woman. I know what you were doing the night you told me you couldn't come help me."

"I was studying for an exam."

"Liar. You caused my death by not being there. I had to do everything myself which caused my heart to break a week later."

"You're the liar. You were an old, frail woman on the way to death anyway. If I had been there, something else could have just as easily taxed your heart. I did nothing to cause your death."

I couldn't believe her. I was just upstairs feeling sorry for myself by saying the same thing. That I had caused her death. If I had been there, maybe she wouldn't have died. Now I was arguing with her about how silly that was. And I knew I was right.

"I don't want to hear your filthy, lying mouth anymore child. It's time to suffer your punishment."

With a wild scream, she raised the knife in the air and charged. I lifted up the sword and...

I couldn't move. A pair of black arms pinned my arms behind me. The right arm had blood flowing down it.

"Mr. King?"

"Hello. Did you miss me?"

I looked ahead. Aunt Emma came running, raised the knife in the air, and plunged it into my chest.

"No!"

I felt a weird falling feeling. Mr. King's arms disappeared. The lights went from bright florescent white to a dim yellow. The yellow light flooded my eyes. I landed on something soft. There were voices.

**********

"Christina, are you ok?"

I slowly regained my orientation. I fluttered my eyes open. I was back in the funeral parlor, lying on the floor in front of my seat.

"What happened? I asked.

"It looked like you were sleeping and you fell off your chair," my Dad said, sounding relieved.

I began laughing. It was all a dream, an insane dream.

I rose from the ground. The small crowd that gathered asked me if I was all right. I assured them that everything was fine. I let them know that I'd been studying for my exams and hadn't slept much of late. Everyone went back to their chairs. I told my Dad that I was going home. I grabbed my coat. Before I left, I went over to see Aunt Emma one more time. I gazed into the coffin.

I froze in horror. Earlier, Aunt Emma was expressionless. She now had a big smile on her face.

 

Author's Note

I want this story to see the light of day. Just looking for suggestions on how to make it as strong as it can be.