Chapter Text
Maybe it was because I was such a huge horror fan or maybe the morbid bit of me that was as curious about death as the average person, but I couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of my brand new position. A Funeral parlors receptionist.
It was an old mom-pop family run business tucked away in the cities corner next to an abandoned shopping mall and some flower stores a few miles ahead. Any other position offering wages like this I would have turned down but, come on. How could I resist the temptation? Images of scary late nights all alone and haunted funerals danced in my minds eye as I pulled my dated car into the gravel parking lot. I took in a deep breathe, looking at myself in the rear view mirror. Augh. Alright, maybe let’s not do that. I only have one time to make a good first impression. Better make it count. Standing up out of the car I pat down my skirt and blouse, taking care to brush out any wrinkles. As if that would really be the make or break of a first day.
Walking up to the large grey doors of the building makes it feel like the structure is hanging over me. It isn't very wide but tall. It looks like it should be one of the small shops crammed in a strip mall except nothing else was beside it. It was just squished looking. There were deep brown bricks with some poorly cut bushes pushed against the walls out front. They were the kind that looked dead, probably were, but still kicking. A wooden sign on the wall read “Stones Funeral home”. I spot a few dead flies stuck inside the lettering walking passed. Feels like bad luck. I feel my heart start to race as I grip the cold metal handle and pull it open.
And pull.
Push?
It’s a push door.
Too late to go back into my car and leave? Probably.
As I opened the twin doors a gust of freezing cold A/C washed over my face and bare legs. I guess being chilly makes sense and all, given that they have to store bodies in here. Still, walking inside the lobby a few things immediately become apparent to me.
One: This place was clearly not designed for any customer to actually come inside. Aside from an oak desk unceremoniously shoved in the corner, the wafting smell of formaldehyde punctuating every inhale made it obvious there was little effort to make this place all too appealing to any mourning customers. If anything it’d probably make whatever mood they had even worse. The other issue made itself obvious pretty quickly when a hefty man waddled out of some double doors in the back. He was in a dark tan suit with eyes locked on his wrist watch and tufts of black hair poking from either side of his head. It took a second to notice me but when he did he rushed over “You’re the new hire, right?” The stranger gives a jolly laugh before taking my hand in a quick shake “So sorry to not greet up at the door, I was so caught up in some recent happenings! Haha.” His excitable nature is immediately obvious, and maybe a little much, but endearing. I grip and shake back “uhm..yes. Hello, nice to meet you.” “It’s a pleasure. My name is Johnathan.” As much as maybe he was over excited, this was intensely relieving. Who wouldn’t be after assuming your boss would be some caricature snob? “Here here—” he motions toward a set of metal doors toward the back of the lobby he'd just come from “Let me show you around. You’ll need to tell people where is what, after all.” Already? Not even some kind of orientation? Odd. Then again, the way he was walking earlier made it seem like he was already on his way out the door. Do funeral parlors have emergencies like that?
I can tell he was riled up by the rosation starting to settle on his bulbous cheeks. I don’t have the heart to tell him to slow down but..somebody should. As the steel doors part, a dimly lit corridor with stale white hospital tile greets me. At the end of the stretched hallway is an open, pitch black room. “This is the main hall. Pretty big huh?” well he wasn’t wrong. Maybe it was the way the painted grey walls looked under the dull light bulbs dangling down but it was an absurdly long hallway. Almost surreal. Stranger yet, there are only two doors through this massive hall “On the left is where our paperwork is filed. Everyone who has ever come through our doors has their own cause of deaths, information, and possible injuries kept for safe keeping. it’s almost like a library of dead peoples history. Ha!” failing to see the humor, I just offer a polite smile. Maybe catching on his grinning faltered a bit before pointing to the other door across from us “…and this is where we meet our clients. It’s still getting some renovations so we won’t be able to take a look just yet… BUT it has a very comfortable feeling. We LOVE to have our customers as comfortable as possible during such a hard time.” Corporate slop speeches even happen in funeral homes? Surprising. But not too much. Looking passed him I again laid my eyes on the haunting pitch black room at the end of the corridor. There is no way something that cartoonishly creepy was just some kind of storage room. I point my finger behind him “so..whats back there?”
Johnathan looks over his shoulder, as if I could be pointing to anything else "That? That’s the refrigerator room.”
.
A moment of confusion. He must have spotted it.
“…It’s where the bodies are. All of them are fridged in that area after or before we can work on them.” A cluster of dead bodies in a dimly lit room at the end of a hallway? Seems about right. “I doubt anybody will be wanting to go back there anyway, don’t worry. Just us and my assistant will be bothering with all that. Hes not here or I’d introduce you.” As if reading my thoughts he gives me a reassuring pat on the back. “Now, why don’t I show you the break room? We have a brand new coffee maker…” as he waddled his way back to the front of the building I can’t help but linger at the edge of the long hall. Something about it made the hairs stand on the back of my neck. They are just the remains of people who have long since left this world, truthfully its nothing scary. Maybe a little sad if anything. But something about it just didn’t feel quite right. It was almost like someones eyes were boring into me.
“..so do you like that kind of thing?” I snapped out of my daze to look back at Johnathans glowing face staring down at me. What was he even talking about? I was only partially paying attention. Looking at his face I could tell whatever he’d been talking about had be something he was passionate about. I dont have the heart to say i didnt bear a single thing he said. So I just politely indulge “oh yea, I do.”. He laughs “Me too!” a twinge of relief comes over me as he continues his way back to the front, now with me trailing behind. “Tonight your job will be pretty easy. We have some pretty basic data entry to get done. Our clients sent in some letters dictating what exactly they want the funeral to look like. What kind of flowers, the color, type of casket—all the usual.” Walking me over to the small desk , he politely pulled out the roller chair for me to sit on. As much as it was a nice gesture, this thing looked ancient. I can still see the indents someone else’s backside has made over the years. This receptionist position is seeming more and more like a half baked idea thought up over night. Still, I plop down on it and face the computer infront of me. It’s filled to the brim with garbage icons, half of which undoubtedly some kind of malware. I can feel my face scrunch in annoyance. “Here.” John pointed to a plastic black tray that was piled with uncrumpled notes and a few handwritten sticky notes attached to separate sheets. “All I need you to do is type up every individual letter on a document and email it to me.” “That’s…it?” I wasn’t expecting some monumental task on my first day but, that’s awfully basic. He nodded his head “I really don’t have much time to give too much of an orientation today. The dayshift receptionist took over most of the work anyway, so I wouldn’t worry about anything too intense for today. If anyone calls, write their information down.” Pulling out the long drawer infront of me he reveals some knick knacks tucked away inside. Paperclips, pencils, some used erasers, and a light blue log book. Johnathan pulled it out, opening to a random page and pointing to a page. “Just follow this format.”
Name
date they called
and what exactly they needed.
Easy enough. “I’ll be able to give you a little more information tomorrow. I apologize for the…rushedness of this.” For once those chubby cheeks weren’t perked up in a smile. I waved my hand, giving a little laugh “No, it’s fine. I’d rather have something pretty simple to start off with.” “That’s the spirit!” again gleaming at me with a smile. Is it? I couldn’t really linger on the response before he stood upright and patted the desk with his thick fingers “Alright. I left my cellphone number in the card catalogue beside you. Call me for any problems.” Card what? I follow his gaze and see a black box sitting on the counter. I cracked it open to peak inside “You young people have probably never seen one of these huh?” he chuckles and wanders over and points to it “These are little cards we used to keep phone numbers. It’s in alphabetical order so it’ll be easy to find.” He seems to get some kind of thrill from knowing about this when I’ve only seen it in movies, but that’s fine. Older people seem to be like that. “Alright. Well, I got called in at the last minute to help a friend with some issues they are having with a fiesty cadaver." Feisty? Interesting word choice. "I may be back before nights end."
Wait. He’s leaving?
I can feel the anxiety creeping in through the tingling in my fingertips “Will it…just be me?” John gives a sympathetic smile before shaking his head “No no, of course not. The janitor will be making his way here any second. He’s been here for a long time but lives pretty far away, so depending on traffic he can be late. I’m sure he’ll be in soon.” A janitor? Sure this is a small business but not even a supervisor to be there for someone brand new?
Before I could think of an appropriate protest he waved to me a goodbye and rushed out the door.
And just like that, I was alone. Just me and a pile of dead bodies.