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posted on Oct, 13 2009 @ 05:13 PM
Very rarely do I give a story an introduction, but this one is an exception.
No matter where you go, travel or reside,each place has a story or two to tell.Be it a ghost story,a fearful lurking creature,a place that sends shivers up your spine, or worse- a person who commits something so heinous it boggles the mind and alters your perception of reality forever. Upon relocating to a new place, I was inspired by such a local story. Believe me when I say, you will never view things the same way again.
Ladies and gentlemen,allow me to introduce,


The observer watches them from slightly off to the side of the room, their eyes fixed upon one another,not a sigh, nor a word between them. As if not a single phrase could capture the essence of this moment.
They were in love, and the observer knew it,everyone knew it.
He would walk down the street and lean over her picket fence just to comment on how lovely her garden was,or how delicious her baking smelled that day. She, in turn, would deliver some of those home baked goodies
to his door step, and remind him time and time again that the creaky front step needed fixing, or the lawn needed a mow.
Every Sunday they would meet and walk up to St. Joseph's parish, then downtown for a light lunch and tea at the Grande Cafe'.
Neither would have admitted to being more than just friends before now. Yet here they both were, ironically,at the same
place, at the same time,holding hands, gazing into each others eyes, and to the observer- hopelessly in love.
Tibbs walked over and tapped Grace on the shoulder,
"Sorry to interrupt you my dear, but you have a previous engagement with the widow Johnson this afternoon.One must not
be late! Come now, and let's freshen you up, and you and Hal can meet up later."
He winked at Hal,and silently Grace was led away from her one and only love, and he could only watch as she disappeared
with Mr. Tibbs.

Grace was staring at her reflection in the mirror, as Tibbs brushed her hair, slowly, softly, styling it just right, with the
silver curls behind her ears.He picked up a crystal decanter of her favorite scent , lilac, and gently misted it around her.
"There my dear. You are a vision of loveliness.Must get going, or I'll miss my own day of fun! My, but you keep me busy..."
He whisked her off the chair and out the door as quick as you please to the sitting room down the hall where widow Johnson was awaiting her arrival.Tibbs carefully eased her into the chair, and nodding at them both, bid them a wonderful afternoon
and a hasty goodbye. With that, off he went.

It was a chilly day, and he pulled his jacket closer as the rain misted on him, and the autumn leaves swirled in colorful cyclones at his feet.His quick pace was interrupted when Miss Lynsey Waters came running up the sidewalk to him , arm in arm with her Aunt Kimberly. Both had puffy red eyes, tears mixed with misted rain on their cheeks, and blond curls clung to their faces.
"Mr Tibbs! So glad we caught you before going out!" she sobbed.
"Oh my Lynsey!" Tibbs offered a sympathetic hand.."What's happened? Is it your mother?"
"YES! She cried in anguish as Tibbs handed her a tissue, "She's gone. Oh, I can't believe she's gone!"
"There, there, now's alright.Now this is no weather for you to be out and all upset.Off to your Aunties and I'll see what I can do about this now, OK?"
He hugged her, nodded at Kimberly, and spoke a soft apology- then carried on to finish his errands. The evening had taken a different turn than he planned.
The sun glistened the drops on the grass left by the rain the previous evening.Father Perry cursed as he trudged through the mud in the cemetery, trying to keep his robes from getting dirty. Twas alright to curse the ground below, he thought,
just not the heavens above.
A small group of mourners gathered around the freshly dug grave. The old woman had few friends, sad to say, since her husband past many years before her.She became a recluse, solely dependent on the kindness of her neighbors.
It was those same neighbors, who now stood before Father Perry awaiting his last prayer for her.
He sighed, remembering her in younger, happier times when he was but a child. She was always keen to visitors then, and Father Perry would come to tea with his mother quite frequently.He remembered vividly the smell of her kitchen, and fresh baked cookies.
Clearing his throat, he spoke quickly, lest his own emotions get the better of him. The mourners dispersed soon after,leaving Father Perry alone with his thoughts.
The service had been closed casket, as were the wishes of the old woman.But Father Perry, feeling the overwhelming desire to say goodbye properly,felt no harm in opening the casket before it was to be lowered into the ground forever.
Carefully, he lifted the lid,just enough so that he should be able to see her peaceful, sleeping face-
But that was not what he saw.
Father Perry fell backwards into the muddy grass,shocked, horrified, gasping and choking at the sight and the stench of what the simple pine box contained.
Staring back at him was Mr.Higgins. Dead 6 weeks ago from a heart attack.Mr. Higgins was cremated and his ashes spread over the family farm.Yet here he lay! Rotted almost beyond recognition.
Father Perry stood there, dumbfounded.
Obviously some horrible mix up had occurred.
He half ran, half tripped over his robe back to the parish to call the mortuary.
Oh she was stunning.
Her golden curls surrounding her head like an angelic halo as she laid so peacefully on the pillow.
For many years he had admired her beauty.Wanted her.Now here she was in all her glory, awaiting him to work his magic on her.
He thanked the universe for his luck.
Tracing a finger along her cheek, he smiled, then lowered his hand to her chest and traced the shape of a heart.
She didn't move, and to him, this meant it was ok to keep going. He knew she wanted this as much as he did.
He walked across the room and from a small table retrieved a new set of gloves. Tightly he squeezed one hand in
then another,as a satisfactory "SNAP" completed the task.
He gazed back at her, and believed he saw her smile.
Father Perry took it upon himself to go there in person. The mortician was, an odd fellow at best, very social.
Most people took that as bad for business for him to be so friendly.It gave one the heebie jeebies to shake hands and warmly greet the man who would put you in your coffin.He had a feeling the mortician would be somewhat less than friendly about his visit.
Just as the sun was setting,and the air grew damp,he walked along the street headed for the only funeral parlor for 100 miles around.A remodeled old Victorian home it stood very picturesque amid the boxlike homes that surrounded it.In winter time, it was worthy of a post card.But this time of year, with the trees skeletal and sparse of leaves, it resembled the eerie haunted mansions of nightmares, especially when one remembers it is a place of death.
Father Perry couldn't understand how anyone could take pride or pleasure in performing such a service, but then again, everyone had their place in society and if it was the call of destiny to be a mortician,so be it.

Tibbs let out a sigh of exhaustion.Too much going on, too much to do. He needed to cut the ties to a couple and he needed more time to devote to his new interest.Sad to say they all came down to this. After a few weeks, they didn't need him anymore. He had done all he could and tonight it was time to bid Hal Anderson and widow Johnson goodbye. Poor Grace. She would be so unhappy and alone without Hal.Perhaps he should make sure they stay together forever.
His decision made, he got up from his office chair and walked down the hall. As he passed the sitting room he saw them there, all three. Grace and Hal sat on the sofa, propped in front of the TV.Widow Johnson by the fireplace, knitting on her lap, apart from the lovebirds to give them their space.
He sighed. It shall be lonely here without them.

(con't next post)

[edit on 13-10-2009 by AccessDenied]

posted on Oct, 13 2009 @ 05:18 PM
Walking up the stone steps, Father Perry noticed the light from a single lamp shining from the office window, so he knew the mortician was on the premises.He was not entirely sure how to approach him, as this was a most unexpected and unpleasant visit.He decided to fore go a ring of the front bell, and simply walked in.
All was silent, and as he peered into the office-it was empty. The chapel for services was empty as well.
It was after all, dinner hour. Father Perry figured he would just go on ahead to the living quarters behind the parlor and track the mortician down.As upset as he was, he wasn't willing to have this confrontation.But he needed answers.
Beyond a heavy wooden door,ornate and stained rosewood color,lay the living quarters.
A crack,only opening the door ever so slightly,and Father Perry was thrust into an entire new reality.
First, the stench, like the coffin at the cemetery, but much worse.Then, the underlying scent of lilacs.
Nauseating it was.He hesitated to take another step. Something was very wrong here.
Covering his face in a feeble attempt to block out the smell, he proceeded through the doorway, silently,and
down the hallway where he could hear the sound of a TV.
He tiptoed to the entrance, not wanting to startle the mortician,as he now had no idea what was going on, but his heart
was beating in an almost fearful way.
Carefully poking his head around the corner, he expected to find the mortician seated on the sofa in front of the screen with a TV tray.But there was not one head seated in the room- but three.
And the ghastly sight of the three corpses sat about the room came close to adding Father Perry to the world of the dearly departed.
Grace and Hal,their bodies gray, shriveled,purple bruises all over, and in extreme decay, sat side by side on the sofa.
Their bodies arranged in a position of young lovers.
The widow Johnson, off to the side,sat limply in the chair, with her fists clenched around knitting needles held on tightly by knotted yarn.
Father Perry ran as fast as his withered knees could carry him down the hall, back through the door, and into the office to call 911.
Not even thinking, that he may not be alone....
Hysterically he spat out to the operator what he had found, and slumped back into the desk chair.
He did not hear the footsteps coming down the hall till it was too late, and there he appeared in the doorway....the observer...the mortician...Mr. Tibbs.
Father Perry dropped the phone with shaking hands and left the operator talking to dead air.
"Why hello father! I wasn't expecting you. Is the parish phone out of service?" he spoke as if all was right with the world.
As he heard sirens in the distance, Father Perry felt his fear turn to anger.
"What have you done Tibbs? Why are these people in your home? Why did you not perform the proper duties of your profession?" At this point he was yelling...
Tibbs looked directly at him, his eyes blazing..
"My dear Father,you have much to learn about my profession.It is my job to please the departed as well.
Give them their last wishes, even if they are unspoken."
"Tibbs, the authorities are on their way here, and you, sir, have some explaining to do and BY GOD I"LL SEE THAT YOU DO!"
He crossed himself as the police entered the office.
"GO! See for yourselves!" and he pointed beyond the door.
Tibbs look lost for a moment.As if he wasn't sure where he was. He looked around the room like a child filled with awe and amusement. Then he giggled.
"My dear fellow," he began "You don't understand. I simply gave them what they wished for.
Grace and Hal were so in love you could see it in their eyes, but old fashioned ways won out and they never acted on it.
Do you think it coincidence they died within 10 days of each other?What they could not consummate in life-
I helped them do.
And poor widow Johnson, shutting herself up from everyone.She needed a friend.Grace was happy to oblige.
And of course my dear Ms. Waters.Such a vision of beauty that bordered on angelic..
Wouldn't you agree Father?"
Father Perry was confused. Ms. Waters had just passed away, and was not in the room with the others.
Tibbs continued-"I gave her my heart long ago in life, and she gave me hers in death."
He pointed to a glass display box on a shelf in the far corner of the room.Inside was a red mass of blood and flesh, a heart, and a red rose.The box was labeled-
Father Perry shivered, as Tibbs was being led away.

[edit on 13-10-2009 by AccessDenied]

posted on Oct, 13 2009 @ 05:36 PM
thankyou for a night time story, a star and a flag just for you. i look foward to many more.

posted on Oct, 13 2009 @ 09:36 PM
Great job and disturbing to say the least! The fact that there are surely real people in the same role and with the same twisted mindset as Tibbs makes this extra spooky.

posted on Oct, 13 2009 @ 10:05 PM
reply to post by AccessDenied

Well done AccessDenied! I recently had the misfortune of having to go to a funeral parlor twice in one month. Two visits each time. The people who ran the place gave me the creeps like you wouldn't believe. There was a doorway that they left ajar one time. I peered in to see stainless steel rolling beds. I dared not peer in any further. This story so reminded me of that incident. I can only imagine. Great story AccessDenied!

posted on Oct, 14 2009 @ 06:23 AM
reply to post by jackflap

Well, Jack, the creepy factor for me is, this story is based on true events.
I don't want to link the news stories here...but the local mortician was arrested here for doing inappropriate things with human remains.
My story is closer to truth than fiction...

posted on Oct, 14 2009 @ 07:34 AM
reply to post by AccessDenied

Knowing that this is true only makes it even more scary. I have heard of some sick things that make me believe truth is stranger than fiction and this is definitely one of them.

posted on Oct, 14 2009 @ 10:53 PM
Ewwww sick, twisted, and perfect for a Halloween story AccessDenied! You really creeped me out with this one. Good job!

posted on Oct, 15 2009 @ 04:44 PM
reply to post by elaine

thanks Elaine.
I'm creeped out myself.
The town had a funeral service and burial for the unidentified cremated remains found left behind by the local mortician today....geez...

posted on Oct, 15 2009 @ 05:01 PM
Awesome story. Makes me want to post my little short, based on a co worker.

Dig it. S&F.

posted on Oct, 15 2009 @ 05:03 PM

Originally posted by Demoncreeper
Awesome story. Makes me want to post my little short, based on a co worker.

Dig it. S&F.

go for it!

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 05:48 PM

Loved it AD!

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 05:50 PM
reply to post by zazzafrazz

thanx Zazz!

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 10:40 PM
reply to post by AccessDenied

I'm floored.

Wonderful story.

Thanks for writing it.


posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 10:42 PM
Thanks Mike! Glad you liked...and hope you are feeling well.

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 10:48 PM
reply to post by AccessDenied

Hanging in there. Appreciate the thought. Surgery in a week and a half. -joy-

posted on Oct, 17 2009 @ 10:50 PM

Originally posted by mikerussellus
reply to post by AccessDenied

Hanging in there. Appreciate the thought. Surgery in a week and a half. -joy-

sending positive mojo Mike.

posted on Oct, 18 2009 @ 12:19 PM

Originally posted by AccessDenied
reply to post by jackflap

Well, Jack, the creepy factor for me is, this story is based on true events.
I don't want to link the news stories here...but the local mortician was arrested here for doing inappropriate things with human remains.
My story is closer to truth than fiction...

I wonder how common this actually is? For all we know, it could be completely epidemic. Mortuaries are part of that unseen portion of society that exists in total darkness to the rest of humanity, filled with dark secrets and possibilities. Actually, I've known morticians socially. They seem normal enough, especially given the circumstances of their work.

Very disturbing -- and that makes it an exceptional story.

I love your writing style, but don't like your formatting. (Sorry for the criticism, hope it makes you take the sincerity of my complement more seriously.)

[edit on 18-10-2009 by Axial Leader]

posted on Oct, 19 2009 @ 03:09 PM
Good story AccessDenied !

Isn't it funny though . . that the observer . . Mr. Tibbs, a man of quiet,
caring manner . . actually may have known the dearly departed better
than anyone else . . and went out of his way to accomodate their wishes ?

posted on Oct, 20 2009 @ 11:10 AM
Good heavens AD, your story needs to be appreciated for the masterpiece it is.

You know true life and a bit o twist is always the best! I have always had the eerie feeling that morticians do it with the dead...

Thanks for an enjoyable read.

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