My response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt Glimpsed #writephoto. In the best tradition of Z-grade horror films I present you with a tale of recycling (one of my stories) premature burial and dark misdeeds. Take care dear reader (it may end up just being one of you) there will be distressing scenes that may offend. Do you want to proceed?
I can’t remember much after they banged the coffin lid shut. At least I think it was a coffin, it was made of metal with a rectangular slit in the lid. Stupid, ignorant fools. True to type these villagers, the mere whiff of anything supernatural they drag out their crosses and holy water. Not quite sure this isn’t a film set. Too late to do anything now. Strange how death heightens all your senses. Not the kind of comment you normally hear. Rather apt in my present predicament. Being trapped inside this body is an inconvenience. I’m not good in situations like this, couldn’t be bothered to listen to them and here I am. Transmigration is an art and I still have training wheels on. Being a private detective is a precarious existence. I was after adventure and when that job advert appeared in my inbox it was a sign from the gods that my destiny was calling. I’m what you’d call an individual with ‘special talents’. Able to project my consciousness at will, or anyone else. Sorry, couldn’t resist that joke. I can count stand-up comic as one of my failed career initiatives. When the audience start throwing knives and chairs at you it’s a good indicator that your delivery isn’t up to their high standards. My ancestors excelled in the art of the assassin and mage, unfortunately their skills mysteriously stopped short at an obscure branch of the family tree. Or so my grandparents told me. They were trying to prevent me from entering into a ‘noble profession’ and getting killed. Nice when people show they care. Do I sound bitter? They neglected to mention that we were also necromancers. Necromancers! How can you forget something like that?
This explains the patch of stygian darkness occupying a corner of my soul. Very hard trying to balance Light and Dark within you. A necessity though when undertaking different tasks. In this day and age multi-tasking is a must. Felt lost for years until I found my niche. Probably not the right word to use. I can’t seem to stray far from all things death related. This explains a lot. My childhood and adolescence were filled with strange occurrences and encounters. For years we were afflicted with an eccentric relative living in our attic; until our parents pointed out it was a deceased cousin. They’d come to ‘visit’ years ago and decided to stay, as it was so lovely. My siblings and I were rather relieved, at least we could get rid of them more easily than if they were living. They had an unpleasant habit of blowing their nose and, ahem, picking it up from the floor. Traumatised we were, hard to clear that image from your mind. Where was I? Oh yes, complaining about being stuck in a decomposing body in the middle of, who gives a damn where it is! I hope my partners hurry up. Terrified mobs can be rather creative when despatching what they believe to be demons, vampires in particular. The idiot who cut off ‘my’ head put it back face down in the coffin. I have stop referring to this body as mine. Well, in a way it is. We were in the middle of trying to raise this woman from the dead when the mob interrupted us. Unfortunately my consciousness was still in her at the time. We were investigating allegations of murder, several in fact in this one village. You may at this point be wondering what century this drama is taking place. October 2016 to be precise. As for the location of this place, can’t divulge for reasons of client confidentiality. Oh, what’s that sound? I can hear whispering and soil being cleared. Oh bugger! Body snatchers. Just my luck they happen to turn up. This is going to be a long assignment, luckily we’re charging by the hour.