"I just couldn't resist."
"Only sacred things deserve to be messed with."
It all ended with a dead kid near the train tracks.
Six years later, the story repeats itself and two long-forgotten friends might find out that when death tries to play match...
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The second hand of the clock ticks loudly as I remove my white lab coat and gloves, all the while watching Sage unfasten the scarf enclosing her hair. The red falls down her back, perfect ringlets catching fire in the grey light descending from the narrow basement windows.
It's her expression which fascinates me. She's not here right now, far from it, from the sight of her eyes; a bit out of focus as she robotically gets rid of her gloves. What is she thinking about? I would give almost anything to know. Her lips are pursed, her serious expression giving her a stern appearance. She looks ghostly in the dim lighting outside the morgue, away from the crudeness of the neon which cuts everything out like a knife. Her lips are chapped, her silver pupils fixed on something I can't see, the bags under her eyes making her look almost as lifeless as the corpses she so adamantly cares for.
One thing is sure. She daydreams with her whole body.
I wonder if she's thinking about Tatia, if seeing her again brought back bad memories. Then again, Sage didn't seem traumatized much after finding her dead in the first place...
Suddenly something changes. She turns to me, blinks, and I can almost see her spirit come back to her body. Just like that she's here again, seeing me and smiling, the kind of smile that illuminates the whole room, like she's shining from inside-out, and she looks so alive in this moment, I let out a giggle.
"Why are you laughing?" she asks, her smile becoming bigger and showing her teeth.
God. I love when she smiles with her teeth.
For a second my other senses dull and the sound of the rain, the feel of the fabric in my fingers, the taste of death on my tongue disappears, my heart suddenly jumping faster in my chest and my palms getting sweaty.
I need a cigarette. Now. Or I'm going to do something stupid.
"I'm just... nervous," I finally say, which sounds as fake as it is, "This was a weird experience."
She shrugs.
"You did good, Taehyung."
I feel my stomach contracting. She says it with such a teasing little smirk, like she totally knows what she's doing and the kind of impact she has on me. But no. This is all me. I need to get out of here fast.
I turn away, going straight for the stairs.
"I – I'm going home," I finally let out.
"What, already?"
She follows me, and I accelerate the pace, reaching the top of the stairs. I try to open the door leading to the first floor, but it doesn't give in.
"Did you lock the door?" I ask.
"No, why? Is it jammed again?"
I sense her presence in my back and put all my strength into it, pushing the panel until I hear it crack and sweat dribbles down my shoulder blades. Nothing. The door is stuck.
