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Chapter Three: The Corpse Keeper

Alright, let's give this a more laid-back, American web fiction vibe:


So, both dead folks and patients need their info logged. No biggie, right? And that note with the stamp? Every intern's got a few of those. It's just to show who you are. Plus, James had a solid excuse. Even if Hestia came snooping around, he could just say he was organizing data and she'd probably buy it.

Hestia stared at that note for what felt like forever, then finally looked up at James with her tired, yellowish eyes. She fished out a bunch of keys from her waistband and, in her slow, raspy voice, said, "Let's go!"

At the end of the hall were these two heavy iron doors, a bit rusty. Above them, a dim sign with dark red letters read — Morgue.

The big metal latch turned with the key, and you could hear the gears loosening behind the door. James followed Hestia's hunched figure into this creepy, cold room for the first time.

Two rows of corpse cabinets lined the walls, taking up most of the space. Besides a few iron-framed beds in the corners and some yellow-painted wooden stools, there wasn't much else.

James instinctively hugged himself. The room was kept super cold to preserve the bodies, making anyone who walked in shiver.

Hestia, used to the chill, didn't react. She pulled open the cabinet marked "Number 19" in red paint. Amid the teeth-gritting sound of metal, she slowly pulled out a 6.5-foot-long stainless steel tray and said in her unique hoarse tone, "Remember to close the cabinet when you're done. I'll be next door; remind me to lock up when you leave."

With that, she walked out of the morgue.

As soon as the cabinet opened, James's full attention was on the body in front of him.

A thin layer of frost had formed on the body's surface. Brushing it off, you could feel the rough, cold texture of the stiff skin.

The deceased's lips were slightly parted, showing teeth with gross yellow stains. The eyes were swollen shut, and the skin around the nose was shriveled from dehydration. But these changes didn't hide his identity.

Yep, the guy brought in by the ambulance last night was this man.

James put on a mask and rubber gloves and slowly pulled away the plastic film wrapped around the body. To his surprise, the skin on the deceased's face was pitch black.

This was weird.

After death, the skin usually turns from reddish to gray, then dark brown or gray-black as the body dehydrates. But this carbon black condition? James had never seen anything like it.

It wasn't just the face. When he unbuttoned the deceased's clothes, the entire chest and shoulders were also disturbingly black.

What the heck was going on?

Steadying himself, James took out a few test tubes from his pocket, collected samples from the deceased's hair and nails, and then used a scalpel to cut a small piece of skin from the left shoulder. After that, he lifted the heavy tray and slowly pushed it back into the cabinet.

He wasn't into dead bodies or anything. He just had a gut feeling there was something off about this guy.

Just as the cabinet was about to close, James noticed from his angle that the deceased's face seemed to have a strange smile. It was like the creepy, cruel smile he saw when he first met the man yesterday, like he was eyeing a tasty meal.

"Dr. Sharp, the data's done. Please lock the door!"

Hestia wasn't really a "doctor." It was just a general term for hospital staff.

Passing by the guard room, James knocked on the half-open window. Hestia, sitting by the window, glanced up at him without saying a word, keeping the same dazed look. She picked up the keys on the table and walked towards the morgue. The sound of her thick-soled slippers hitting the concrete floor was a heart-pounding thud.

Just as James was about to bounce, he got this weird feeling, like something familiar just zipped past the corner of his eye.

He turned his head on instinct, eyes locking onto the table in the guard room through the open window. He stared at it for a good while.

There were a few pieces of candy.

Next to them was a crumpled transparent wrapper.

Hestia liked candy too?

Noon rolled around, and it was lunchtime.

The hospital cafeteria's roast chicken was the bomb, and you could smell it from a mile away. If you showed up late, tough luck.

Even though he had a big breakfast, James was still starving. He got to the cafeteria early and ordered two plates of beef pasta and a whole roast chicken. People around him were shook, gasping in amazement.

"Hey! This young man’s got quite the appetite, eating all that."

An old man with a hunched back walked past James, shaking his head and muttering, "Back in my day, I could eat even more than this. But now... I'm old..."

The meat cooked with tomatoes and soy sauce had this super tender texture. But for James, the best part was the dark red color mixed with the sauce on the meat.

It looked a lot like blood.

Meat covered in fresh blood should be delicious.

Even after a full lunch, James still felt crazy hungry when he got back to work in the afternoon. His throat was dry, and it felt like it was on fire.

He fumbled for the water cup on his desk and chugged half of it, which helped a bit.

He figured he must be sick.

Judging by the symptoms, it seemed like an upper respiratory infection. Unsure of what to do, James didn't dare to take any meds. After a lot of hesitation, he decided to do a blood test first and see what was up.

Even he couldn't explain why he didn't just hit up a doctor. It would've been quicker to get the right meds. But deep down, James had this vague worry.

The third-floor lab was a big room separated by an alloy frame and plexiglass, taking up nearly two-thirds of the hallway. Through the transparent barrier, you could see all the testing instruments and even the tiny pedestrians and cars outside the opposite window.

As James walked up to the second floor, a young woman in a denim mini-skirt walked out of the restroom at the corner of the stairs.

Her skin looked good, but it was clearly not natural, more like heavy foundation. She seemed to be around eighteen or nineteen, very thin, with that bony look a lot of girls go for. Her outfit was super revealing, especially the mini-skirt, which barely covered about 2 inches below the thigh. From James's position on the lower stairs, he could even see the faint pink silk underwear between her legs. A provocatively dressed woman like her would catch the eye of many men, and James was no exception. Because of this, he noticed she was holding a shallow plastic cup for urine.

Her high heels clicked crisply on the polished tiles. She didn't seem to care about the various looks of disdain, jealousy, indifference, and even lust and malice from all directions. She kept her head high, swaying her hips, and gracefully placed the plastic cup with the slightly yellow urine and a crumpled medical prescription slip on the lab window.

James bent down to look through the glass, then turned to the tightly closed door beside him. As he passed behind the woman, he saw that the test slip said "pregnancy test."

Since his dorm was on the same floor, James knew the lab staff pretty well. As he pushed the door open and walked in, David Jones, sitting at the microscope, looked up and smiled at him.

"James, here to gather intel again?"

From behind the temperature-controlled incubator, a wheeled chair slid out, occupied by a man in his thirties. He was very thin and short, and even the smallest lab coat size looked loose on him.

Like David, William Brown was also a lab tech at the hospital. After graduating from med school years ago, he got assigned to the lab. He didn't seem to like his job and was cold to the med graduates, including James, who came for internships.

"A friend, an old patient, asked me to check a blood sample for him."

James greeted with a smile, took out a pre-prepared test tube with his blood sample from his pocket, pulled up a chair, and sat down in front of the molecular detector.

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