As she reached for the carotid artery, the lights flickered. Across the room, the lid of a storage cabinet creaked open. It didn’t swing; it pulsed, as if something inside was breathing. Rebecca froze. She remembered Mr. Delver’s warning: The demons don’t want the dead; they want the vessel that’s still warm.
Then, she heard it—a voice coming from her own throat, but not her own words. As she reached for the carotid artery, the lights flickered
A wet, slapping sound echoed from the hallway. Slap. Drag. Slap. Drag. Rebecca froze
The fluorescent lights of the River Fields Mortuary hummed at a frequency that felt like a needle pressing into Rebecca’s skull. She had taken this apprenticeship to face her demons, but tonight, the demons were literal. Then, she heard it—a voice coming from her
"I am the rot in the floorboards, Rebecca. I am the shadow in your mother's eyes."