ɴᴇᴡ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ|𝙻𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝/𝙻𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗

Two Trucks Part:2(Feat. Dead Bodies)

(THOUGHT THIS WAS OVER? WRONG!)

Patty took off her gloves, wiping the sweat off her brow, and thrusting her hands into the sink. Being a morgue attendant was not a cakewalk, and it did not help that most of her colleagues would often leave the night shift to her. 

Alone, might she add. 

It’s not that she hated her job. On the contrary, she enjoyed the quiet peacefulness that came with the position. However, tasking one person with handling, moving, and cleaning dozens of corpses for several shifts was downright torture. Is it really that hard to assign someone to work with her? 

She sighed, drying her hands with a towel, slipping on a pair of new gloves, and clasping her face mask back on. She had two more corpses to inspect, and then she would be scot-free to drink her woes away in the comfort of her home. 

She unzipped the body bag on the operating table. It was an elderly man, who surprisingly had most of his body intact. No burns or limbs missing; it almost seemed as if he died in his sleep. Patty hummed, writing down notes in her clipboard before setting it down and proceeding to do a physical inspection. She cradled the corpses’ chin in her hands, moving it to the side for further review. 

She shook her head at the discovery of several punctures embedded deep into his skin. She should have known better than to think this man died a peaceful death. In the past few months several corpses have popped up with similar bite marks. It was mostly on the neck or collarbone, but it varied from each individual. Patty suspected something more sinister, such as a crazed cannibal or serial killer on the loose, but her higher ups disregarded her suspicions, placing the blame on rabid dogs.  

Seeing as how they never checked on the bodies themselves, it was easy for them to place the blame on anything else, while they made the woman clean up the victims.  

What made this particular corpse odd, however, was that it was the first body with bite marks to show up in her morgue in about a month. She wasn’t sure if that meant the person doing these acts was slowing down his atrocities or if they were just getting better at hiding the bodies. 

Clank 

Patty spun around, startled by the sudden noise. She was always alone; she was supposed to be alone. Nothing ever made noise here, so what the hell was that? Her eyes scanned the room, only to find one of her scalpels on the ground. Slowly walking forwards she picked it up off the floor, and set it back onto the tray. She counted to ten in her head, willing herself to calm down. It wasn’t her first day on the job anymore, she handles dead bodies for Christ's sake. 

She probably just left it haphazardly close to the edge. 

Something moved rapidly in her peripheral vision, something dark and yellow. Gulping the lump in her throat down, she clutched the surgical knife in her left hand, and turned around to face whatever it was. 

There, next to the operating table was a freak of nature. It wore a trench coat, its entire body charcoal black, wide bloodshot eyes embedding deep into her own, and massive, vicious canines protruding from its mouth. Despite all of those characteristics, the weirdest part of the beast was its head, it was shaped like a lemon, same size and color.  

“You know,” it spoke, its deep and profound voice instilling fear in her. “I find it odd that they would leave a frail thing like you all alone here. Doesn’t it get lonely?” 

She took a step back. “I-I-” 

“Ah, but what am I saying, you have all these lovely people to talk to, don’t you?” The monster lifted the dead man into a sitting position, controlling his arms like a puppet. “But you’re not going to get much out of this guy, which is weird, because I remember him screaming a lot when I met him.”