Carmen Stevens: Kiss My Lips

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The doors to the morgue easily opened as Carmen backed into them. She could only see the faint outline of the Ripper in the shadows up ahead, hoping that it could not see that well in the dark. It escaped her that the dark was where the Ripper dwelt best.

A very faint light from the desk in the corner of the morgue helped her to see some of the layout. Yvonne was not lying when she said bodies had been taken to the morgue. Carmen expected to smell death in the air, but it was replaced by the overwhelming stench of chemicals. It burned the back of her nostrils and awakened her senses.

The stainless-steel slabs must have been too full to be occupied by any more bodies. There were several lying in body bags on top of tables spread out through the spacious room. Carmen didn't have much time to decide where to hide; she could hear the echoes of footsteps in the hallway approaching.

Her hands felt around the small square doors on the wall, opened one, and saw a body on the gurney inside. She shook her head, pulled a face, and closed the door shut – there was no way she would hide in there. But the clock was ticking.

The body bags on the tables were all zipped shut. Carmen ran to the furthest table where only a white sheet covered the body. Getting to her knees, she rolled under the table, allowing the sheet to cover her too.

Her hands reached for her mouth to silence her breaths when she heard the morgue doors swing open. The heavy breathing of the Ripper confirmed its entrance. Its heavy footsteps vibrated through the floor, even though Carmen was, at that moment, far away, she could feel where it was walking to.

The Ripper opened one of the doors in the wall, pulling out one of the gurneys. That awful screech and banging would give her a great opportunity to run from her hiding place, but two things stopped her:

She didn't know where to run to, and the sheet covering her table started to shake: the body on the table above her was moving.

The Ripper hadn't yet noticed its movement as its frustrating banging hid any other sound. Carmen retreated in herself as she pulled her knees up to her face and wrapped her arms around her legs. She kept her eyes wide open, fixated on the sheet.

All of the banging from the Ripper ceased, and Carmen hadn't realised how loudly she was breathing. She held her breath, unsure of what was happening. Even the Ripper's footsteps were too quiet for her to feel where it was going.

She waited, painfully, for something to happen.

And it did. The sheet was thrown off the table, and the Ripper, thinking the moving body was Carmen, savagely lunged its teeth into its neck. Carmen allowed a small scream to escape, the sound fortunately untraveled to the Ripper's ears.

When she realised what was happening, she scrambled out from under the table at the top, where the head was, and stood. She looked at the body, seeing the agonised face move as she did. His eyes looked at hers – he wasn't a body, but the mortician who had hid himself when he heard someone approaching the morgue.

He was soon to die and Carmen was powerless to help him. Blood from his jugular poured over his face like a tidal wave, before it covered his eyes and he had no life left to look upon her.

She couldn't waste any more time. She backed away, feeling a door behind her, and opened it. The noise of the Ripper's attack covered the click of the lock in the door she had entered, and she tried to look around where she had ended up. She closed the door and felt around for some kind of light – a candle, torch, anything.

On the counter was something of a cylinder shape. Unsure of what it was, she picked it up and felt both ends. She clicked something, and on turned the blue light of a glow stick.

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