THE DEAD BODY

 

A dead body laying down on the bed.

The Night Shift at Miller’s Creek

It was one hell of a day to be stuck on the graveyard shift. Bella sighed, leaning back in her creaky chair at the Miller’s Creek Memorial Hospital in the heart of suburban Pennsylvania. She complained inwardly, keeping her mouth shut to avoid a lecture from her supervisor. It was a crisp Friday night in October, and she’d had plans for dinner and a movie. Instead, a frantic call had pulled her in to cover for one of the other morticians.

Working as a morgue attendant for the past four years had exposed Bella to things beyond human comprehension. She had seen the quiet, cold aftermath of life in all its forms. That was exactly why she hated working weekends; she preferred spending her Friday nights with the living, enjoying the warmth of a crowded room rather than the silence of the basement.

A Cold Beginning

Bella looked around her cramped office. It was a depressing little box with a single metal desk and an old HP computer that hummed like a lawnmower. The beige paint was peeling off the walls in long, jagged strips. Her chair was an ergonomic nightmare, sending a sharp pang through her lower back every time she shifted. She let out a long yawn, her chin slowly dropping toward her chest as she drifted into a light, restless sleep.

Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared through the hallway. Bella jumped, her heart hammering against her ribs. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She scrambled to the door and threw it open. In the reception area, a chaotic scene was unfolding. Paramedics were rushing in with a gurney, followed by a young man whose face was twisted in a mask of pure agony.

Despite her exhaustion, a spark of adrenaline flickered in her chest. The night had been mind-numbingly boring, and this was finally something different. She watched from the shadows as Dr. Eric, the head of trauma, checked the victim’s vitals. After a few tense seconds, he looked at his watch and sighed. "Dead on arrival," he pronounced solemnly.

The young man let out a final, guttural cry and collapsed to the floor, overwhelmed by heartache. Dr. Eric signaled to Bella. It was time for her to do her duty.

The Girl on the Gurney

She stepped forward, taking the handles of the heavy metal trolley. As she wheeled the body toward the morgue elevators, she wondered if they’d bother with an autopsy. Honestly, she didn't care. As long as she got the intake paperwork finished, she might still make it home in time for her plans.

"Bella!" a voice called out.

She stopped. It was Benita, one of the floor nurses. "What’s the word, Benita?"

"What happened out there?" Benita asked, gesturing toward the lobby.

"No idea. A girl was brought in DOA," Bella said, nodding toward the white sheet.

Benita leaned over, peeling back the corner of the cloth. "Damn. She is so young. She looks like she had her whole life ahead of her."

Bella followed her gaze. She hadn't really looked at the face before. The girl was pale, but strikingly beautiful, with long dark hair. "Yeah," Bella whispered, a strange chill settling in her bones. "I guess so."

"Anyway, I won't keep you. Catch you at the coffee machine later," Benita said, heading back toward the ER.

Bella pushed the trolley into the morgue, the wheels clicking rhythmically on the linoleum. Please let this be the only one tonight, she prayed. When she reached the prep room, her assistant, Rose, was already snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

"A new one, I guess?" Rose asked, her voice echoing in the sterile, tiled room.

"Yeah, just came in," Bella replied.

Rose tilted her head, studying the shape under the sheet. "What do you think caused it? There isn't a scratch on her."

"That is not my place, Rose. Let the pathologist do their work. I don’t even know if there will be an autopsy."

"But look at her," Rose persisted. "Something feels... off."

"Don’t 'but' me. You aren't paid to guess; you’re paid to follow orders. If the family wants it, fine. If not, she’s out of here."

"Yes, ma'am," Rose muttered.

The Shadows Stir

As they turned to the body to begin the intake, they saw the hand move. Bella froze. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah," Rose whispered. "I was thinking it was my imagination."

But then, the head turned. Slowly, the girl faced them, her eyes snapping open. Both women held their breath, hoping it was some medical miracle rather than what it looked like. Bella took a few steps back, but Rose, driven by a misguided sense of duty, moved closer.

"I don't think that is a good thing to do," Bella warned.

"Bella, look at her face," Rose said, her voice trembling. "Her eyes are bloodshot and her skin... it's changing."

"Rose, get away! Dr. Eric announced her death on arrival."

"What if he was wrong?" Rose asked, reaching out. "What if she needs help?"

"Are you mad? You’re questioning the best doctor in the hospital?" Bella noticed the body moving with a jerky, unnatural rhythm. "Take a step back, Rose. That body is moving toward you!"

Rose turned, but it was too late. The girl reached out with hands that were no longer human in their strength. Suddenly, the lights flicked off. Bella held her breath in the crushing darkness. When the emergency lights flicked on for a mere second, she gasped. She saw the figure standing, advancing. Then came the scream.

Bella scrambled back until her back touched the cold wall. When the lights finally stabilized, the horror was undeniable. The girl was attacking Rose. Bella watched in a state of shock as her assistant fell. When the girl looked up, her eyes were wild and vacant. Bella realized this wasn't life—it was something else.

She scrambled toward the door, her heart hammering against her ribs. As she barged out, she bumped into Dr. Eric. "What is the matter?" he asked, startled.

"Don't go in there!" she gasped. "The body... it came back. It attacked Rose."

"That is absurd," Eric said, reaching for the door.

He didn't get the chance to open it. The door swung wide, and the girl stepped out. Behind her, Rose began to rise, her movements twisting and snarling. Eric jumped back, but they moved with a speed that defied nature. They fell upon him before he could scream. Bella turned and ran, her feet flying over the tiles until she burst into the reception area.

"They are killing Dr. Eric!" she shouted to Bianca, the receptionist.

Escape into the Unknown

The young man who had brought the girl in jumped up and ran toward the danger, but Bella knew it was too late. Benita looked at her with skepticism. "Bella, are you okay? How can you say a dead body is attacking people?"

"I'm out of here!" Bella screamed. "Call 911 now or you will regret it!"

She didn't wait for an answer. As she ran out into the night, the city was already in chaos. People were boarding up windows, and the sound of distant shouting filled the air. She saw a woman staggering in the street, laughing a hollow, chilling laugh. Bella ran around the block, her lungs burning, until she saw a young man trying to board up the door to an apartment building.

"Please, wait!" she called out. "Don't board it yet!"

The young man looked up and paused, holding the door open. "Hurry up, before these freaks get to us!"

Bella barged inside, and together they hammered the final boards into place. She slumped against the door, breathing hard. "Thank you. My name is Bella."

"Morris," he said, extending a hand. His grip was firm and warm, a stark contrast to the coldness she had just fled. "You just saved my life, and I guess I saved yours."

Love in the Ruins

They sat in the dim light of his living room. Morris explained that the news was reporting an experiment gone wrong at the Codex Bar—the very place Bella had planned to spend her night.

"I guess I was lucky," she whispered. "I was called to duty instead."

"Are you a nurse?" Morris asked.

"No, a mortician."

Morris let out a dry laugh. "What the hell? And I let you in here? You spend all day with the dead."

"I'm okay, Morris. I'm not like them." She turned around, showing him she had no scratches or bites. "See? I'm fine."

They fell silent, listening to the world change outside. Over the next few hours, the fear began to subside, replaced by a strange, quiet connection. In the middle of the apocalypse, they talked. They shared stories of their lives before the madness. Morris was a carpenter; he liked the smell of sawdust and the feeling of building something that lasted. Bella talked about her desire to help people, even if it was in their final moments.

As the sun began to peek through the cracks in the boarded windows, Morris reached out and took her hand. "You know," he said softly, "I’ve spent a long time looking for someone I could actually talk to. I didn't expect to find her while the world was ending."

Bella looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. The horror of the morgue felt a lifetime away. "Maybe the world didn't end," she whispered. "Maybe it's just starting over."

Morris leaned in and kissed her—a soft, desperate promise of a future. In that moment, the sounds of the "freaks" outside faded away. The fear that had gripped Bella’s heart for years—the coldness of her job and the loneliness of her life—melted.

They stood together, looking toward the light of a new day. The government would come, the city would be rebuilt, but Bella knew one thing for certain. She wasn't going back to the basement. She was staying here, in the light, with the man who had shown her that even in the darkest night, love is the only thing that truly never dies.