Die Laughing
Published Mar 18, 2015

Written By

Audrey May


Page 1 / 11

Thanks to sim_man123, riccinumbers, spacesims and BuffSumm for some of the special objects used in the creation of Hardwick Mortuary.

Hardwick Mortuary is based on Degera's Charming Homestead, "reworked" by Audrey May.

Thanks to sim_man123, riccinumbers, spacesims and BuffSumm for some of the special objects used in the creation of Hardwick Mortuary.

Hardwick Mortuary is based on Degera's Charming Homestead, "reworked" by Audrey May.
Something strange was going on at Hardwick Mortuary. There had been complaints from the mourners about odd noises coming from the basement and the attic. One woman swore that the viewing room temperature dropped to almost freezing and the flowers she had placed near the casket had suddenly wilted. But when we went to investigate, the room temperature was cozy and the flowers looked normal. Our tour of the attic and the basement turned up nothing more than a sprinkling of ferocious dust bunnies. As we were the only funeral home in town, we weren't too worried about a loss of business. But we didn't want potential customers to be afraid to visit, either. So we took each gripe seriously. When my partner was busy with a client, I grabbed a flashlight and headed up into the attic for a more thorough inspection.

The attic rooms were full of the usual clutter. Old file boxes, broken furniture that we always meant to get repaired and forgot about, piles of moldy clothing that relatives never reclaimed and cobwebs. Since we rarely bothered to come up here, the only footprints in the dust on the floor belonged to me and my business partner, Carol Anne.

I swung the flashlight around to the darker corners, but the room offered no clues. Then, as I turned to leave, I caught a flash of movement behind a stack of old luggage. I shined the light in that direction and moved over for a closer look, convinced that I'd find nothing more than a wayward squirrel. But there was nothing behind the old fashioned steamer trunk.

Obviously I was letting all this nonsense go to my head, I thought, as I hurried back down the stairs to the main parlor. Carol Anne was still busy with the client, so I decided to peek at the basement one more time.

We had just moved into this charming Victorian, and only recently converted it into a funeral home, but the basement was part of an older structure that had collapsed half a century back. The original stone walls had been plastered over and modern fluorescent lighting kept the shadows at bay.

As in the attic, we mainly used the space for storage, but this is where we kept the flower vases and urns, chests of religious symbols and assorted pedestals. At the bottom of the stairs, to the right, were the double doors that lead into the embalming area. On the far wall was the door for the old furnace room. Normally we kept it locked because the room wasn't finished, but the door was standing wide open.

I stood on the bottom step and tried to remember when was the last time anyone might have gone in there. For some reason I didn't want to cross the floor and look into the room. It was dark beyond the doorway and I shivered. Now you're just being ridiculous, I said to myself, as I forced myself to move.
I shined the flashlight into the room and saw only more dust and cobwebs. Shaking my head at my foolishness, I set the lock and closed the door.
I had only reached the foot of the stairs when the door swung open behind me. I saw it moving out of the corner of my eye and goosebumps raced across my skin. Without a second thought, I sprinted up the stairs, slammed the basement door and stood with my back against it. Carol Anne found me there a minute later when she came to ask why I was slamming doors.

"I think we have a ghost," I said. My heart was still racing and my words came out in a rush.
"Really?" she replied with a laugh. "A ghost, in a funeral home? Who would have thought that could happen?"
"Yeah, poke fun, but it would explain a few things," I answered.
Carol shook her head. "A few creaks here, a few groans there. Houses settle, they make all kinds of crazy noises. There was a tree outside my bedroom when I was a child that would knock on the window in a high wind. I mean really knock, like it wanted me to let it come in. Scared me to death at first, but after awhile I got used to it. We just need to get used to this."
"I can handle creaks and groans," I said. "What bothers me is the locked door that opens by itself."
"What door?" asked Carol.
Instead of answering her, I opened the basement door and beckoned for her to follow. But halfway down the stairs I came to an abrupt halt. I could already see the furnace room door... and it was closed.

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4 Comment(s) so far

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#1stinkybutt123Aug 22, 2013

Wow, this is really good. I'm really angry that the door was shut because now she'll seem crazy! \:\( Oh well, good work! \:\)

#2NisukiAug 22, 2013

Oh oh, i like this creepy stuff. Can't wait for more \:wub\:

#3martoeleSep 1, 2013

Promising start. Nice!

#4lekunzeMar 9, 2019


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