01 | Elora

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There was something strangely calming about mortuaries. Most people would notice the dull walls and the smell of decaying flesh but I noticed the soothing presence of  grey and reveled in the bleak emptiness of everything.

Perhaps being around the dead made me feel more alive.

"Elora," a voice echoed through the desolate room, "have you finished in here?"

I turned to look at my aunt. She had a small smile on her face that highlighted her crows feet and age.

"Not yet," I smiled, "you can go home. I'll lock up."

My aunt stared at me for a few moments longer before sighing. Ever since my mother's death she worried about me constantly. It was unnecessary but appreciated nonetheless.

"Okay," she nodded, "I will see you on Sunday. Ring me if you need anything."

She smiled at me again before leaving and closing the door softly with a gentle click, light footsteps following after her.

I let out a breath and continued my task of mopping the pale blue floor. My aunt is a forensic pathologist and got me a small job here to help save up for my college fees. I have been working here since I was seventeen. It isn't extremely interesting but I can't complain.

Bang.

The sound of metal crashing attacked my ears.

The cold steel of the mop dug into my palms as I tightened my fist around the handle. The shock quickly wore off and my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. I was supposed to be the only one here.

Keeping the mop in one hand, I made my way over to the door. Opening the door slowly, careful not to make too much noise, I peeked my head out and examined the empty hallway. The sound of clanking metal reached my ears again and I began to creep towards the noise.

Stopping in front of a door labelled 2F, my grip on the mop tightened and I placed my ear against the cold surface of the door. I could hear slight muttering and and repeated groaning of a disembodied voice that seemed to be frustrated.

Slowly lowering my hand to the handle, I began to gently turn it.

Click.

I paused and clenched my eyes shut in hopes that the unlocking of the door hadn't been heard. The quiet muttering didn't stop and I let out a sigh of relief. The relief was momentary as I resumed opening the door painstakingly slow to try make as little sound as possible.

When there was a gap big enough to squeeze through, I entered the room that looked identical to every other in the building. The white lights were blinding and made it easy to spot the large male figure hunched over a refrigerater table that held the pale corpse of a woman.

The figure seemed unaware of my presence and began to roll the body off the table. I walked closer towards him.

"Who are you?"

The man shrieked and turned around to face me. His eyes were wide as he stared at me with a shocked expression. My eyes wondered his face from his dark hair that curled slightly on his forehead all the way his structured jaw decorated in light stubble. I had never saw this man before.

"Who are you?" I repeated.

The man laughed nervously and shifted glances all around the room before returnimg his gaze back to me.

He straightened slightly. "I'm the new doctor. I just came to see my patient and check her vitals." He smiled tightly and gestured his hands towards the corpse that was currently sprawled out awkwardly on the table.

"Your patient is dead," I commented.

His smile dropped. "Look, I don't—"

I held up my hand hand to pause him. "No, you look. Who the hell are you are why are you messing around with the dead bodies?" I asked with my voice raising slightly. "Necrophilia is illegal you know," I added.

"Hey! I'll have you know I prefer my women alive and moving," he scowled.

"Sure looks like it," I snickered.

He pressed his lips in a tight line, visibly annoyed at my comment. "Well, I know it's been a pleasure talking to me but you need to leave."

I raised a brow. Who does this guy think he is?

"If anyone is leaving, it's you," I stated, crossing my arms against my chest.

"Merda," he muttured, glimpsing at the body, "I don't have time for this."   (shit.)

He seemed to be contemplating something as he kept glancing between the table and I. His brows were slightly furrowed and his hands were clenching amd unclenching at his sides. Suddenly, he reached inside his black blazer jacket and pulled out a shiny black object.

It was a fucking gun.

My pulse quickened and I raised my hands slightly. His eyes caught my movements and the corner of his mouth turned up. "Im not going to kill you. It's only a tranquilizer gun," he mused.

Was that supposed to make me feel better?

"Great!" I sneered. "Nice to know you don't plan on killing me, you just want to shoot me with a fucking tranquilizer."

I really needed to get out of here before I ended up like the other dozen corpses in the room.

I began shuffling backwards whilst his eyes were on his gun. "You really need to tone it down on the sarcasm, cara" he lifted the gun, "it makes it so much more tempting to kill you." He smiled before firing a dart at me.   (dear)

"Ahhh!"

"The truth hurts."

"It's not the truth, asshole, it's the dart you just shot in my fucking leg."

The pain from the dart stuck in my leg was fleeting as I glared at the man's amused face. He started towards me and placed his arms around my waist to steady me. The floor seemed to sway under my feet. My body was aching and my vision began to blur.

The man's arms tightened around me as he lowered my body onto the hard ground. Black spots began to consume my vision and the last thing I saw was the man dragging the corpse from the table into a black body bag before my eyes rolled back into my head.

A/N
Honestly not sure how i feel about this but i had a dream about this plot and gave into temptation. I honestly have no idea what im doing.
Let me know your thoughts and any improvements i can make <3

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