Undertaker

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Story from Aiden Striker, told by himself that turned his life into a nightmare.

Submitted: January 05, 2020

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Submitted: January 05, 2020

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The Undertaker

Life is really a nice thing, indeed, but it depends on who you are. There are different odd things that could happen and I will tell you about it, you can believe me or not as you wish.

My name is Aiden Striker, I am a local undertaker of the Timpleton’s Graveyard. I am 53. I’ve been working here for almost 25 years. And every day as on your usual work you have the same so-called routine, so do I.

As a worker of the graveyard my work includes digging graves and guarding this place at night from vandals. For these I have a shovel and for those I have Heckler & Koch P30.

Let me tell you about the graveyard. It is splitted on several parts: east, west, north and south. They look the same but it just only seems to the untrained eye. This place is different and when the dark goes down the strange things can happen. For me it seems that like it lives its own life. Sometimes it terrifies me more than usual.

15 March 1935

It was the cold spring day just one of those rare cold days in spring. I woke up at my guard post near the eastern part. It is situated there. The TV I was watching at night was talking on a low sound. Maybe, I just drown in sleep or just my coffee was not so strong for a night. Don’t know but in fact I was asleep.

My phone rang. ‘Hey, Aiden, what’s up? I’m calling you all the morning.’

‘Good morning, Mr. Morgan. Yeah, the night shift, I just had a nap.’

‘Ok, ok we got a new order today, so you need to prepare the place for a newcomer.’, Mr. Morgan said.

‘Yes, no problem with that.’

As I’ve mentioned previously everyone has own routine and that was part of mine.

I stood up from my chair, stretched and took my shovel yawning. The place of the bury was in the Eastern part not far from my post, so I’ve decided to make it fast.

When I went past all of these tombstones, I felt like they all, I’m not kidding, all of them were looking at me with hundreds of their eyes.

After I’ve reached my destination, I dig the shovel into the fresh ground then spit at my hands and rubbed them. Then I took the shovel and started digging.

It was getting harder for me to do this obviously because of my age. I used to make it easier and faster but that was the time when I was younger. Still these hands have the power, it’s not the same as it was though.

I was working a long time, then I saw a car approaching. Black Cadillac moved slowly through the main entrance of the graveyard. Rays of light were glimmering on the shiny surface of the car.

 

The process was the same as usual. This time it was a woman. I can say more, that was a mother. Her little children were there a little boy and a little girl. Both weeping. Her husband tried to cope with his emotions but that was obvious to me that thing is hard when you lose the person you love, the one that means a lot for you, even more than life. Yes, it was that look, he had.

I was standing resisting on my shovel and watching into the pit. It’s hard for you to cope with the emotions but not for me, I got used to it for all my life. Otherwise I still got the same feeling, the one that makes our heart beating and makes us feel something. Was it an empathy? Don’t know.

It started raining. The weather that day was cloudy and it felt like it was going to rain. It started right in the middle of the process.

The priest was reading prayers aloud to rest her soul.

Then with the help of other men we lowered the coffin into the ground. The Father embraced his children. They were all weeping. I was watching at this motionless.

When they were gone, I began my work. I put a shovel into the ground dig it and threw the ground into the pit, then another portion of ground, after that another. When I finished, I looked at the tombstone.

Hannah Walters 12 June 1905 – 14 March 1935

‘Oh God, she’s a young woman.’, I said aloud.

The wind started blowing, I looked around as if someone heard me. No one was around. Rain was pouring, all the drops were beating in my black coat and hat that were wet from water. The day was grey. The lightning glistened in the sky.

 

And now it’s 10 February 1938, evening… Night, to be exact.

I’m at my post right now, don’t know what is going on there but… But I need to… I need to tell you something important.

I’ve seen so many horrible things in my life but the one I saw this night couldn’t be compared to anything.

To start from my night watch.

I woke up a couple of minutes ago from a strange sound I’ve heard, sounded like a creak. I thought that was my TV. It was always on; some interesting stuff was on air that time.

I turned it off, put on my hat, then tried to reach my P30, my gun. A lamp started flickering above my head. I looked at it suspiciously, thought maybe generator is playing some games with me. But it is weird because it was not so old to mess up.

I took a flashlight, yes, I got one, turned it on and went out to check the generator.

To my surprise it was ok, I checked everything and heard the howl from afar. Don’t know what was that, sounded like an owl for me. My ears didn’t fail in such things. So, I went for my usual night watch walkaround.

Firstly, I’ve decided to visit the West part, it was short.

The alley was lighted with the moon glimmering. The tombstones were all so dark and dreadful with the flowers. They were not at each tomb.

We are adults so that we shouldn’t afraid of anything, especially darkness. But there… There was something new this night, something strange at the same time. It was a fortune for me that I have my flashlight with me, I can light up the way for my eyes. They aren’t so strong in my age already.

Total silence was around me and only cricket, that small… gave me shivering.

I kept moving… Again, all these faces… They’re staring at me with the hundreds of their eyes. Are they really watching at me or am I insane? Sometimes I see them blinking with their eyes. It’s true, have you seen it any time in your life? The eyes of the dead people, people from the tombstones watching you; every step is in their gaze. Every move is seen. It’s a terrible feeling. Wish you never feel this.

The moon hung over me lighting the way. The glimmering from the tombstones created the feeling of something moving around me. I knew there’s nothing except darkness and that I’m alone here. There’s no reason to be afraid of anything. But I felt, my brain, I mean, felt different. It was not calm inside of me, even though I tried my best to make a vision of composure.

Wind was blowing making all the trees and bushes rustling.

Sometimes I really believed that something is following my steps. Without any sound. But I tried to push that thoughts away from my head, because this is my job and no one could make it better than me. At least I tried to convince myself in this.

Whenever I’m doing the walkaround at night I’m thinking about different kind of things. The only one thought came to my mind at that moment, the moment of my last walkaround I think. And… listen… whoever you are…  Do you believe in God? I mean… I got not much time to explain myself.

A moment ago, while I was moving along the Eastern part of the graveyard, I’ve heard a strange sound. I listened accurately. Nothing except of the cricket.

Then a clunk… A scratch…

A rush…

I was interested in what the hell was that, thought maybe vandals were there. I’ve decided not to wait and prepared my gun. To be ready is always a good idea. I sent a light into the direction of the sound and started to move slowly that way to check it out what was there.

The leaves where rustling beneath my feet with each my step.

I kept moving forward on the sound I’ve heard. It was the Eastern part already and suddenly I saw something unnatural…

I directed the light on the place that was the cause of the sound. Something was standing there. It was high with bony hands and spine. I saw its spine with a shabby skin. Its hair was dark and soggy lying on its shoulders. It was wearing a white dress. A woman, it was a woman…

The same woman I’ve buried under the ground on the 15 March 1935, Hannah Walters, no kidding.

I was terrified to hell, tried to aim at her. My hands were trembling with a sudden wave of tremor. Couldn’t cope with it.

In instant she turned her head, maybe she’s afraid of the light, because didn’t see it underground for a long time. I looked at her face. It was almost destroyed, there was no skin. Her jaw was barely holding, mouth opened. Her eyes were abnormal, white with the hell only knows what was in it. They were hollow.

She screamed at me and filled me with terror. I shot her twice without any second wasted more. She became angrier, almost insane. I got scared and started to run. Run away without looking back.

I looked only forth and no way back, not looking what the hell was behind me. My heart was beating with the insane rate, I couldn’t control myself. I thought what will be if it will catch me.

The road was dark and it was hard for me to aim my flashlight and to light up the way ahead.

My post emerged suddenly beyond the horizon.  I tried my hard and gathered all my power to push the maximum speed I could to get to the safe place.

I thought that my telephone is here and… I could ask for some help…

Now I’m sitting here at my post… Yes, right now… I’m writing a letter to you… To you whoever you are, my reader. And I ask you for help… It’s insanity I know, because I can’t even expect the help. I want to confess, my reader. I do believe in God. And I hope, hope for help, because now, in this situation I hope He’s listening to my plea. God Almighty Merciful, please help me, forgive me for all the things I did in my life. I know that I’ve done so many mistakes. But… Please.

I’ve seen the Devil, the Devil alive. It is. And I saw him with my eyes. Trust me. I tried to use the phone, but it doesn’t work. Again. It was my last hope to survive. Now I got no chance, I guess. So, I prey for you, my reader, and ask you, please, prey for my soul.

Wait, a second, wait…

I hear, it’s coming for me. I’ve locked the door.

The light at my post turned off. The power was off. I hear the scratch… The scratch at the door.

Oh, God, she’s staring at me through my window…

God, forgive me…

Goodbye my, reader.

 

*****

The letter broke off. There was no more information. Police officer was reading the letter standing in the middle of the undertaker’s room at his post. The floor was strewn with the broken glass. The flashlight was lying on the floor covered with blood, gun too.

There was no any trace of the undertaker in that room.

Hannah Walters

Police officer took a shovel in one hand and ran out from that room. He moved to the Eastern part, to the part where Aiden Striker saw the woman.

Terror touched his soul within.

He stopped right opposite the Hannah Walters’ burying place. The ground was fresh and it seemed like buried not long ago.

He started to dig without hesitation. His heart was beating in a tremendous rhythm.

When it was done, the coffin was inside.

Slowly he bent down to reach it.

The lid created a cracking sound while opening.

What was inside scared him to hell.

“Oh my God.” Officer gasped.

It was not what police officer was expected to see. In the coffin was not the woman, it was Aiden, Aiden Striker, the undertaker of the Timpleton’s Graveyard. His hands were folded together on his chest. He was lying with his eyes closed in his black suit he was wearing and his hat.

There was no sign of life in him and it was obvious that he was dead.

Police Officer put down his hat.

“God save his soul” he said. He looked in the sky, that was full of stars.

One question tormented him at that moment: where is the woman, he described in his letter. And was she real?


© Copyright 2020 J.R. Patrick. All rights reserved.

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