The ashes fell. Dotting my forehead with smudges of black. It hurt in my chest, a pain that speared further in my body and deep into my soul. What I knew about this life was totally wrong. Things are out there that are unexplainable. I have seen them with my very eyes, and I know what they are capable of.

My father ran a morgue till the day he died. Late into his eighties, I pray that I last as long hat he has. His father owned the morgue before him and his father before him. It has been in the family for centuries and in our small town, the men are not expected to leave as someone would still have to run the morgue. One of the oldest bodies we had here dated back to the mid-1800s. Safe to say that we’ve had literally thousands of bodies come through our doors over the years.

I remember as a child running up and down the ramp shoot that they used to lower the bodies into the cremation chambers. Before I knew the purpose of the ramps, I thought they were fun to play on. As an adult the ramps always gave me the heebie-jeebies. While dad passed last year from pancreatic cancer, it only felt right to have him cremated him in our place. Mom had handed me the papers, he signed over the business to yours truly. I had some successful years owning the morgue. People always die so business will always be booming.

Dad told me one thing over the years that had always stuck out to me. Something towards the end of his life that he reminded me for when I took over the place someday. What dad explained to me is that I should “never remove the coins from the body’s eyes”. Sure, simple enough to remember I figured.

I have vivid memories of seeing bodies wheeled into the cremation chambers with bronze coins over their eyes. Momma told me it helped them sleep and when I got older, I just didn’t press the issue too much. So I followed dads’ rule and kept putting these bronze coins over their eyes. It just became habit at that point. Most of the time we just reused the same old ones, but dad kept a safe in his office with literal hundreds of these coins. Don’t know where he got them, but he had a ton of them. They had no value; they were no type of currency that I could identify. About the size of a half dollar, smooth with a dirtied bronze look.

Why am I telling you all this now you might be wondering. Dad’s warning had been harder to follow than I thought. I had some successful years, but no one is perfect. And I slipped up.

I was wheeling a body down to a chamber for burning. The man I was wheeling had his bronze coins over his eyes just like dad instructed. Just a routine burning. He was the last of the night, about 11pm or so. The hallway was dim and cold, must hung in the air as it did. The man was bloated and stunk of formaldehyde. Pale and lifeless, I tried not to dwell on him too much. I was taking him to a chamber where the burners are newer so I could speed up the process a bit when the wheel on the gurney had broken off. The front of the gurney tipped as I stopped short, the mans dead weight slid to the side and he crashed onto the floor with a wet slop. The coins rolled in different directions.

I cursed at myself and at dad for leaving behind such an old gurney. I should have been smart enough to replace it. Now I had to pick up this wet, bloated dead guy and drag him a few feet to the chamber. He left a wet trail behind him. As I hoisted him into the chamber, I noticed his pale, washed over eyes. Eyes that I don’t typically see on the bodies; his coins had fallen out. Not thinking too much of it, I gathered the coins and tossed them into the chamber with the man and cranked it on. By then it was too late.

I headed back upstairs ready to head home, passing by the freezer lockers when I heard the first banging. I stopped dead in my tracks once I heard it. A banging, loud and angry came from inside one of the lockers. In the lockers were frozen bodies that were waiting for burning. I turned back towards the room, feeling the hairs stand up on my neck as the banging continued.

The lock on one of the lockers was rattling from the banging like someone was trying to kick it open from the inside. Did an animal get stuck inside I wondered to myself as I fumbled for the keys. The banging echoed against the steel lockers, feeling like it was shaking the entire building. I held the lock hesitantly and the banging had stopped. I pulled out the bed and it was just another man, but he looked familiar.

It was him. The same man that I just sent into the cremation chamber before. It was impossible I thought. I pulled the rest of him out, checking the tag on his toes. It was him, one hundred percent. But then who did I just burn? And why does he not have his coins on his eyes. I slammed his locker closed and rushed back towards the chambers where I could smell burning flesh. A body was in there.

As I raced down the stairs, a panic washed over me. I saw him standing there. The flames shot out from the chamber behind him, the shadows dancing against the wall. The walls were scorched with flames. I needed to turn off the gas. Flesh and fat dripped like grease from his body. His eyes glowed a fiery yellow. With his head cocked sideways, his arm stretched out with a closed fist. The charred flesh burned my nostrils. Frozen with fear, I yelled out to him.

The burned man took a step forward. His foot sloshing with each movement, steam rising from his wet, bloated feet. Fear rose inside me, fight or flight. I ran. Running away as the light of the fire faded behind me. The sloshing of his feet grew louder.

But there were more of them. Standing at the top of the stairs were more bodies. Naked men and women, pale and dripping with their yellow eyes crowding the top of the stairs. They were smiling at me.

The fire continued to burn. Smoke burned my eyes as I fell to the floor coughing. The people tossed hard things at me. Pelting me as I lie writhing on the ground. One hit me square on the forehead landing next to me. It was a bronze coin.

Heat burned inside me as the fire continued to spread. Feeling like my organs were being cooked. The figures atop the stairs remained frozen, blocking my path. But the man sauntered down the hallway. Cremation chambers doors burst open with flames as he walked past. Soon the entire building would be consumed.

I struggled to see through the smoke. Their yellow eyes piercing the thick smoke behind me as I crawled down the hall further to the ramp. The ramp led outside, I just had to make it there alive.

Smoke filled my lungs, unable to breathe as I slowly crawled. Feeling the heat of the man burning at my toes. He dropped coins next to me as he watched me crawl. Oils and fat from his body dripped on my back, burning holes through my clothes, and scorching my skin. I cried out for help, begging them. But he just kept walking. Coins dropped onto my bare back, burning into my skin. Filling my nose with burning flesh. With each coin dropped, I felt it fuse into my skin sinking deeper.

The burning man wheezed and exhaled loudly as I crawled up the ramp, feeling the fresh air already. I turned towards him, watching the fires rise around and consume him. All while he stood there smiling and throwing coins towards me. I crawled towards the outside, the fires creeping towards me. All while his yellow eyes watched me leave, he wasn’t stopping me. I pushed open the ramp door, sucking in fresh air. Watching the morgue go up in smoke. Generations of men in my family kept this business alive, and here I was watching the fires burn it to the ground. Smoke funneled out of the tunnel in thick black streaks. Searing my throat with the stench of burning flesh. My back ached as coins loosened themselves from me. Covered in blood and blistering flesh.

As the fire fighters fought vigilantly throughout the night. By morning the morgue was just a pile of ruins and ashes. Centuries of work erased in a matter of hours. A couple of fire fighters hoisted a safe out of the rubble. Charred and burned but I knew it was fathers. They placed it in front of me where I dialed it open and out poured blackened coins. I picked one up, hot to the touch and saw the face of the burned man in my mind. Whatever they are, I now know why dad warned me about the coins for all these years.