#shortstory #Iamnewhere
Leaves rustled under the silver of the moonlight as the sky mourned the absence of the sun, all clad in black. With a heavy heart and sweaty palms, he took long strides towards his destination. Dressed in a black hooded jacket and stained sweatpants, he appeared to be a well-built man in his early 40's. His backpack rested on his shoulders and his hood veiled his face. Crickets chirped in the distance as he quickened his pace; fear was gripping his soul, he did not want to get caught once again. He had a difference to make, a point to prove. The urgency was visible in his being as he bit his lip, anxiously. He was determined to witness the tales of his success to be enshrined in the sky, right after the ascension of the sun.
He passed by the strangers who reeked of alcohol, disgusted, he turned his cheek.
"People root for alcohol while I fancy getting drunk on chai with an oily paratha (bread) accompanying it," he thought, feeling pangs of hunger. He hadn't had even a single morsel of food since he woke up.
An old, sketchy graveyard appeared in the view causing him to release a sigh of relief. He was there at last. A ray of hope enlightened the dark chambers of his heart. He was careful not to make a noise since the cemetery guard was sound asleep; he didn't want to wake him up. The guard's face was familiar since it was the 5th time he was watching him. All the past encounters were anything but pleasant.
He made his way inside, passing by graves of all sizes. His foot halted right before an old grave with a grey tombstone. The engravings on it were fading but it was somehow comprehensible. It said, "Lisa Brown."
He shook his head and wandered deeper inside only to be stopped at a new grave. The soil was damp, announcing the fresh death. The tombstone said, "Albert Brown."
He visibly relaxed as a big smile decorated his face, nevertheless, his heart thumped loudly.
He began digging the grave with his hands, his forehead showcased beads of sweat albeit the chilly wind pervaded. Moments passed as his hands dug his way deeper in the ground and he stopped; right when his hand came in contact with the hard surface of the wooden coffin. He began shaking with delight.
"At last! At last!" His heart whispered, delighted.
The man lifted the lid of the coffin to reveal a fresh dead body. He was a young guy, clad in black tux. He did not seem dead, rather sleeping.
He effortlessly lifted the dead body and placed him on the ground. One by one he removed the body's coat and dress shirt. His hands were shaking the entire time.
Soon after, he opened his backpack and took out a knife. He was growing anxious since he couldn't calm his wildly beating heart.
Turning the body around, he laid it on it's stomach. Afterwards, he slit open his back.
A sigh escaped his mouth as the hardest part was done. Then he dug his hands in his backpack to take something out but failed. Someone hit him and tackled him to the ground before he could register what was happening.
"Whoa! Stop!" He screamed.
"I won't stop this time! How many times do I have to tell you? Do not invade the graveyard. Go back to that mental hospital! Why do you do this to the corpses? Let them be dead in peace, you madman!" The guard screamed in anger.
So he was caught again. But this time, he was hell-bent on getting his work done so he begged the guard to let him do what he wanted.
"Please, let me do it. Just one time. Please, I beg you. I'm not causing any harm, I promise. Let me do it," He begged, on his knees.
The guard didn't seem convinced but after a lot of begging and pleading, he agreed only after putting forward a condition.
"If you failed in doing whatever you're gonna do, I'm gonna slit your throat, right here, agreed? I'm tired of the fiasco you make from time to time," the guard stated, exhausted.
The man nodded profusely and went back to the corpse without missing a beat.
He took out a huge battery from his backpack and placed it inside the dead body's back. Then he sewed it close.
"Now wait a while," he said to the shocked guard.
He dressed the corpse again and waited.
They waited and waited and waited; nothing.
There was nothing.
"You failed, madman. Now I'm gonna finish you right here," the security guard snarled as he retrieved the knife from the ground.
The man did not protest, he was still hopeful and his eyes were glued to the corpse but the guard wasn't buying it. He was angry and frustrated.
Just as the guard lifted the knife to stab the man, the corpse began to cough.
Both the men stared in shock as the dead man came back to life, now sitting straight before them.
Leaves rustled under the silver of the moonlight as the sky mourned the absence of the sun, all clad in black. With a heavy heart and sweaty palms, he took long strides towards his destination. Dressed in a black hooded jacket and stained sweatpants, he appeared to be a well-built man in his early 40's. His backpack rested on his shoulders and his hood veiled his face. Crickets chirped in the distance as he quickened his pace; fear was gripping his soul, he did not want to get caught once again. He had a difference to make, a point to prove. The urgency was visible in his being as he bit his lip, anxiously. He was determined to witness the tales of his success to be enshrined in the sky, right after the ascension of the sun.
He passed by the strangers who reeked of alcohol, disgusted, he turned his cheek.
"People root for alcohol while I fancy getting drunk on chai with an oily paratha (bread) accompanying it," he thought, feeling pangs of hunger. He hadn't had even a single morsel of food since he woke up.
An old, sketchy graveyard appeared in the view causing him to release a sigh of relief. He was there at last. A ray of hope enlightened the dark chambers of his heart. He was careful not to make a noise since the cemetery guard was sound asleep; he didn't want to wake him up. The guard's face was familiar since it was the 5th time he was watching him. All the past encounters were anything but pleasant.
He made his way inside, passing by graves of all sizes. His foot halted right before an old grave with a grey tombstone. The engravings on it were fading but it was somehow comprehensible. It said, "Lisa Brown."
He shook his head and wandered deeper inside only to be stopped at a new grave. The soil was damp, announcing the fresh death. The tombstone said, "Albert Brown."
He visibly relaxed as a big smile decorated his face, nevertheless, his heart thumped loudly.
He began digging the grave with his hands, his forehead showcased beads of sweat albeit the chilly wind pervaded. Moments passed as his hands dug his way deeper in the ground and he stopped; right when his hand came in contact with the hard surface of the wooden coffin. He began shaking with delight.
"At last! At last!" His heart whispered, delighted.
The man lifted the lid of the coffin to reveal a fresh dead body. He was a young guy, clad in black tux. He did not seem dead, rather sleeping.
He effortlessly lifted the dead body and placed him on the ground. One by one he removed the body's coat and dress shirt. His hands were shaking the entire time.
Soon after, he opened his backpack and took out a knife. He was growing anxious since he couldn't calm his wildly beating heart.
Turning the body around, he laid it on it's stomach. Afterwards, he slit open his back.
A sigh escaped his mouth as the hardest part was done. Then he dug his hands in his backpack to take something out but failed. Someone hit him and tackled him to the ground before he could register what was happening.
"Whoa! Stop!" He screamed.
"I won't stop this time! How many times do I have to tell you? Do not invade the graveyard. Go back to that mental hospital! Why do you do this to the corpses? Let them be dead in peace, you madman!" The guard screamed in anger.
So he was caught again. But this time, he was hell-bent on getting his work done so he begged the guard to let him do what he wanted.
"Please, let me do it. Just one time. Please, I beg you. I'm not causing any harm, I promise. Let me do it," He begged, on his knees.
The guard didn't seem convinced but after a lot of begging and pleading, he agreed only after putting forward a condition.
"If you failed in doing whatever you're gonna do, I'm gonna slit your throat, right here, agreed? I'm tired of the fiasco you make from time to time," the guard stated, exhausted.
The man nodded profusely and went back to the corpse without missing a beat.
He took out a huge battery from his backpack and placed it inside the dead body's back. Then he sewed it close.
"Now wait a while," he said to the shocked guard.
He dressed the corpse again and waited.
They waited and waited and waited; nothing.
There was nothing.
"You failed, madman. Now I'm gonna finish you right here," the security guard snarled as he retrieved the knife from the ground.
The man did not protest, he was still hopeful and his eyes were glued to the corpse but the guard wasn't buying it. He was angry and frustrated.
Just as the guard lifted the knife to stab the man, the corpse began to cough.
Both the men stared in shock as the dead man came back to life, now sitting straight before them.
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