Chapter 9: The Apparition in the Morgue( an unattached hand just fell on my foot)

The fluorescent lights of the hospital morgue hummed with a sterile, indifferent drone, a sound that usually settled my nerves rather than frayed them. I’d spent enough nights here, the quiet a balm after the chaos of patient care. But tonight, a different kind of stillness clung to the air, thick and heavy, like the scent of disinfectant struggling to mask something far more ancient and unpleasant.

My footsteps echoed unnervingly on the linoleum as I made my way to the refrigeration unit, a routine check of the day’s intake. The metal doors loomed, each one a silent sentinel. I pulled open the first, the familiar hiss of escaping cold air doing little to dispel the growing unease prickling my skin. Inside, the body lay still, a canvas for the pathologist’s meticulous work. Everything was as it should be.

As I moved to the next compartment, a faint whisper brushed against my ear, so soft I almost dismissed it as the building’s groans. But it was too distinct, too *close*. I froze, my hand hovering over the handle. The air grew colder, a sharp, biting chill that seemed to seep from the very walls. And then, I saw it.