Whatever Remains (The First)
Posted By J.C. Montgomery on March 13, 2009
Filed Under Excerpts, Horror | Leave a Comment
© J.C. Montgomery 2008. All Rights Reserved.
It was a vivid dream, so real he could nearly reach out and…
“What the hell?”
Brushing his hand across the cool silk he instantly became aware he was not in his own bed. In fact, he was in no bed at all. If he didn’t know better he’d swear that he was in a…but no, it couldn’t be, because he was dreaming, he was sure of it.
He raised his arms slowly until they felt resistance. Feeling the solidness of the wood he wondered if he had the strength, physically and emotionally to push against it and free himself.
A relieved sigh echoed about the coffin as the lid slowly rose and shed light on Tom’s worst nightmare. Staring down at himself, he saw he’d been dressed in his best suit. He took a deep breath; it was then he smelled them. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of his surroundings, he could see that on top of, and surrounding his coffin, was an abundance of flowers he hadn’t seen since his wedding day.
“Oh my god, I’m dead?”
“Obviously not my friend, but not alive either. Now this is a conundrum.”
Bolting completely upright at the sound of the man’s voice, Tom noticed a tightening around his stomach, and it wasn’t from fear.
“Oh yeah, I replaced the coroner’s sutures with something stronger, you know, just in case. They don’t hurt do they? But, well, how could they unless you have feeling. Do you? I mean – feel?”
The voice came closer, and as it did Tom confirmed that it did indeed come from Horace Hoffmann, Cedar Ridge’s resident undertaker and funeral home director. Rubbing his temples, hoping he really was having a very vivid nightmare, Tom discovered something else he hadn’t noticed before.
“Yeah, well, the coroner is a fairly thorough fella isn’t he? I didn’t replace those, so they shouldn’t be too bothersome. You need help out of there Tom?”
“No. I mean, yes. Wait. I’m not dead…right?”
“Well now, I’m no doctor, but…”
“Dammit Horace! What’s going on here? Why am I in a coffin? And what the hell am I if I am not…,” Tom hesitated, not believing what he was about to say, “…alive?”
Holding up his hands in a defensive posture, Horace approached Tom cautiously. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but one thing he did know was that he’d attended Tom’s funeral that very morning after preparing him for it nearly two days ago.
As Horace reached out to help Tom from the coffin, he wondered, how do you tell someone they’ve been declared dead? And how do you tell them that as far as you can tell, they still are?
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