Sometimes they are not DEAD! | Creepy | Horror Stories |

Sometimes they are not DEAD! | Creepy | Horror Stories |

It was Christmas Eve and I was working in the embalming room of a funeral home.

The embalming room was everything the cop shows your grandparents watch conditioned you to think it was.

A cold, utilitarian space with puke green tiles on the walls, tiles on the floor, and harsh fluorescent lighting.

A row of freezers were to one side and an office area lay to the other.

In the middle was a metal table where the magic happened.

A large man with marble blue skin and a distended stomach was laid out like a Thanksgiving turkey in hell, a thin white sheet covering his privates.

Christmas music drifted from an ancient transistor radio on a high shelf and snow filled the sole window.