Reassured, Nathan relaxed. It was tradition, nothing to fear. The noises and unsettling feelings? Harmless pranks meant to mess with him. He chuckled quietly, realizing he’d been too jumpy.
That night, Nathan faced the morgue calmly. He wouldn’t let the pranks get to him. Strange noises, rustling, eerie silence—he was ready.
As night deepened, faint rustling echoed again—the subtle sound of shifting clothes. Nathan paused, listening carefully. The noise was unmistakable, but he shook it off as another prank.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back, determined to dismiss the unease. His eyelids drooped, and soon, exhaustion claimed him.
Suddenly, a loud bang shattered the silence. Nathan’s eyes snapped open, heart hammering. A dark figure flashed in the door’s window panel, sprinting toward the exit—a swift, fleeting shadow. His breath caught, panic seizing him.
For a moment, fear rooted him in place. His mind raced to comprehend what he’d seen. Then, gathering a shaky breath, Nathan steadied himself.
“Ha ha, very funny, guys,” he called out loudly, forcing his voice steady, trying to shake the terror that gripped him.
Nathan exhaled deeply, letting the tension melt away. It was just another prank—probably someone in a dark uniform messing with him. He laughed at himself, trying to shake off the lingering fear. After all, it was all part of the tradition. Nothing more.
The next morning, Nathan started his shift as usual, but something felt off. As he stepped into the break room, his senior attendant called him over, face serious. “Nathan, I need to talk to you,” he said urgently. “Several bundles of PPE kits and bottles of formaldehyde have gone missing from the morgue.”