Never Dead: Beyond Nightmares

XVI

Log 10:

Tyr Morgue...

Bennett Simms...

August 12, 2413...

Bennett juggled a pistol in his right hand as he walked toward the deployed morgue. It was all he could do to calm his nerves. A morgue. Simms had to supervise a morgue. One of the only crew-members on the Jericho that suffered from necrophilia, and he had to supervise a morgue. He was deathly afraid of dead bodies, and anything to do with dying. Just looking at one made him sick to his stomach. Seven Heavens supported death, and he had been tormented his entire life by the cult.

"This is former assistant communications officer Bennett Simms." The man said to a newly opened recording log. "A morgue has been deployed here on Tyr, and thanks to evaluation reports," Bennett looked away, remembering in embarrassment how he had been slacking off the past couple of days, "I have been sent to supervise it."

He slowly approached the aquamarine panel of the front door. On it, the ever-familiar word 'OPEN' stared at him, taunting him. Reluctantly, the former comm. officer waved his hand in front of the panel. The morgue recognized his ID, and opened, revealing the cold, dark room before him. There were about ten cryo-tubes within the morgue, meant for freezing any dead bodies, particularly 'important' or Seven Heavens bodies. Two men were laid out on stretchers before him, one of which only consisted of a lower half. Bennett had to turn away to avoid puking up his lunch. He could have sworn he saw an intestine or two pouring out of the body.

The morgue doors opened, and in walked Zach James, the HMO's newest 'best friend'. "Looks like we're setting up base here. Sorry about this." He was carrying two dead bodies over his shoulders, much to Simms' surprise and disgust. Still, the man pulled two stretchers over, and James set down the bodies onto them.

Simms had to turn away to avoid puking at the sight of a massive laceration across both of the men's necks. He barely managed it. Swallowing, he asked the other man, "Why... why is it that I have to guard these bodies? It's just... Why?"

The other man turned to look at him with an annoyed look on his face. "Because, you do. Stop complaining, you're probably going to end up preventing this body from getting messed up by a necrophiliac." He turned to walk away. "You never know who might be one, the psychological tests don't check for that."

A... A necro-what? "What the hell is a 'necrophiliac'?"

James turned back again as he reached the door. "Someone that's aroused by dead bodies and dead things."

That was the last straw. Bennett could somewhat handle intestines, slit throats, and being around dead bodies altogether, but that image was just way too much. He ran to the restroom at the thought, and vomited at the sheer disgustingness of it all. Was a 'necrophiliac' even a real thing? Was James just playing a trick on him? Bennett desperately hoped so. He turned around at the sound of a disembodied voice speaking out, "Bennett..."

"Who's there?" the morgue attendant asked out to the rest of the building. He pulled out the pistol given to him by the Head Mining Official. He stepped out into the actual morgue and pointed it around, trying to find the voice. But then it dawned on Bennett. It was one of the other miners, playing a cruel trick on him. "Very funny. Come on out, guys. That's not cool."

"Bennett... Listen very carefully to me..." the voice said, sounding less human and more animalistic with every word. "You need to use your gun... Prepare the bodies..." The lights in the morgue went off. A silhouette of something inhuman stood over the two latest dead bodies. It was hovering a few feet off of the ground. It pulled out what looked like a pistol. Bennett walked over, raising his pistol at the thing.

"Stop now. The game is over. Get out of the morgue." Simms nudged the silhouette with his gun. He was necrophobic, but he wasn't scared by stupid tricks. His eyes shifted to the silhouette's gun. It looked ancient, probably an antique from World War II, like the one that he owned. A Swastika plastered on the side confirmed that. But what finally caught Bennett's attention was the fact that the gun wasn't a silhouette. It was perfectly normal. The weapon shifted before his eyes, changing into the gun that he was currently carrying. It suddenly clicked in his head. The silhouette wasn't someone playing a trick on him. It was him.

The silhouette disappeared, and he found himself aiming his gun at one of the dead bodies' foreheads. He tried pulling his arm away, but was cut off, "Ah, ah, ah. You need to prepare the bodies..." A silhouette's arm wrapped around him, and held the gun still. It pulled the trigger. A small hole appeared where the bullet landed. The pistol dropped to the ground.

Simms fell to the ground in the fetal position and began to cry. He was scared. What had come over him? What just made him do that? "Bennett... You aren't done yet..."

"No! I don't want to do this! This is wrong!" he yelled in anger at the animalistic voice.

"Bennett... I will give you an ultimatum... Prepare the bodies... or you will get to see your family again..."

"Wha—what?" How was that an ultimatum? He looked up. Carla, his wife, and Darren, his son, were in the morgue as well. He gasped. Directly behind them was the silhouette of something greatly resembling a primate, but with what seemed to be spikes jutting out of random points on it. "Carla?" The creature positioned itself in front of his family.

"Make up your mind, Bennett? Which do you choose? Do you choose to prepare the bodies, or do you wish to see them again?"

"I... I want to see them again. I want to see my little boy... my beautiful wife... I choose to see them again..." he said between sobs, still in shock that he had shot someone in the head.

"Very well then, Bennett... You have chosen. You'll be seeing them very soon."

Simms felt a cold piece of metal touch his forehead. His eyes shifted to the spot where his gun used to be. It wasn't there anymore.

"But first, you have to prepare your body..."

***