The Final Farewell

In the damp, echoing halls of the city mortuary, a young attendant named Elias was finishing his shift. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and decay, a smell that clung to his clothes and haunted his dreams. His uncle, a grim-faced man named Barnaby, had been a morgue attendant for decades, but tonight he was needed elsewhere, so Elias was left to handle the last task of the day: delivering the body of an old fisherman, Mr. Abernathy, to his grieving family on the outskirts of town.

Elias loaded the gurney into the back of the old, rattling hearse, which had seen better days. He was joined by two fellow attendants, a burly man named Cedric and a nervous, skinny fellow named Tobias. They were all in a somber mood, and Cedric had brought a flask of cheap whiskey to steady their nerves before they set off. The three of them drank deeply, the alcohol warming their stomachs as they drove through the rain-slicked streets, the city lights blurring through the grimy windshield.

As they hit a particularly bumpy stretch of road, Cedric chuckled, ‘Maybe the old man wants to sit up and enjoy the ride.’ They all laughed nervously, but their laughter died when a low groan emanated from the back of the hearse. Elias glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the sheet covering the body move. He chalked it up to the whiskey and the road, but then the movement became more pronounced. The sheet slid off, revealing Mr. Abernathy’s pale, weathered face. His eyes snapped open, and the three men in the front seat froze in terror.

The corpse sat up with a creaking sound, its joints popping like dry twigs. It turned its head slowly, fixing them with eyes that were milky white, yet somehow seeing. ‘Stop this vehicle,’ it said, its voice a low, guttural rumble that seemed to come from the very depths of the earth. ‘I wish to visit my home.’ Elias, his hands shaking, pulled the hearse to the side of the road, his heart hammering against his ribs.

The dead man slid off the gurney and shuffled towards the door. He pushed it open and stepped out into the rain, which seemed to fall harder now, as if the sky itself was mourning. He stood there for a moment, water streaming down his face, then turned back to them. ‘I am going to visit my family. Do not move from here, or you will be responsible for your deaths.’ With that, he turned and walked towards a small, rundown house across the street, its lights flickering in the gloom.

The three men sat in the hearse, paralyzed with fear. They watched as the figure entered the house, the door closing behind him with a hollow thud. Minutes passed like hours. The rain continued to pound on the roof, making it difficult to hear anything else. They shared another swig of whiskey, but it did nothing to calm their nerves.

Then, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the night, echoing from the house. It was a scream of pure terror, followed by a series of crashes and shouts. The door burst open, and Mr. Abernathy stumbled out, but he was no longer the composed, dead man who had left the hearse. He looked frantic, his eyes wild, and his mouth was open in a silent yell. He ran towards the hearse, his legs pumping awkwardly, and threw himself against the driver’s side window.

‘Drive!’ he screamed, his voice now high-pitched and desperate, completely different from the eerie calm before. ‘Drive, you fools! They’re coming!’ Elias, without a second thought, slammed the accelerator to the floor, and the hearse lurched forward, tires screaming on the wet asphalt. The dead man was clinging to the side, his fingers digging into the metal, his face pressed against the glass, his eyes wide with terror.

They careened through the streets, the dead man’s grip never faltering, his screams mingling with the wail of the engine. After what felt like an eternity, they reached the main road, and Mr. Abernathy’s grip loosened. He fell away, tumbling onto the road behind them. Elias slammed on the brakes, and they all looked back, but the body was gone, vanished into the darkness and the rain.

They sat there, trembling, the silence only broken by the hiss of rain on the roof. Tobias was sobbing, Cedric was muttering prayers, and Elias was white as a ghost. They never spoke of that night again, except to each other, and even then, it was in hushed, fearful tones. The morgue was investigated, but no one could explain what had happened. The body of Mr. Abernathy was never found.

Years later, Elias would wake in the middle of the night, hearing that final, desperate scream, and a voice that said, ‘They’re coming.’ And he would always wonder, with a chill that reached his very bones, what had happened in that house, and what had truly come back from the dead that night.