But as soon as her skin touched the metal, the strange warmth returned, and this time, she felt a slight contraction of the man’s fingers around hers. The grip was weak but unmistakable. She stifled a scream, her instincts screaming at her to flee, but her legs felt like lead.
Suddenly, the door to the morgue creaked open, and the orderly returned to retrieve another gurney. The sound jolted Anna back to reality. She quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back, her heart pounding like a drum.
She turned her back on the cadaver, trying to mask her fear under a guise of professionalism as the orderly gave her a quizzical look. “Everything alright, Anna?” he asked, noticing her pale complexion. “Y-yes, everything’s fine,” she stammered, avoiding eye contact.
“Just… just tired.”
The orderly shrugged, oblivious to her internal turmoil, and went about his task. Anna seized the opportunity to leave the room, her mind swirling with questions and doubts. Once outside, she leaned against the wall, trying to steady her breathing.
That night, Anna couldn’t shake the experience. She lay in bed, haunted by the night’s events. Was it a warning?
A sign? Or just her guilt manifesting in her imagination? Whatever it was, it forced her to confront her actions, to rethink the path she was on.
She never stole from the morgue again. Instead, she tried to find solace in the simple yet honest life she had, realizing that perhaps, her dreams of wealth and luxury weren’t worth the price of her peace of mind. And though she never spoke of that night to anyone, it left an indelible mark on her soul, a reminder of the thin line between life, death, and morality.
