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Category:
Horror
Publisher: Nightengale Press
ISBN-10: 097433488X
Type: Fiction
Pages: 245
Copyright: Dec 1, 2004
This is a true account based upon the facts related to me by the citizens of a small northern Ontario town concerning the character of one man, named George Triblinkus, along with his profile and his profession as the town's only mortician. It seems this man named Triblinkus, quite literally, loves his work to death.
A young college student is murdered in this usually quiet, quaint and uneventful town. Her death is nothing less than a sad and somewhat shocking mystery to all her friends and family and of course the townsfolk of this resort town, except of course to the man who murdered her. The man responsible for her unexpected demise is the man who shall now bury her; but first, in his very own house, the undertaker shall love her before Tracy, the victim, is buried forever.
My name is Tracy Harris. I am granted but a few moments of breathless existence to speak of this house and its master. Avoid this domicile of the dead, I implore you!
Oh God! I have mere seconds before he arrives - before he breathes the rankness of his vile upon me! Soon the footsteps of this treacherous beast creep closer to my lifeless form, and my sleep interrupted by the foulest deeds of a man most foul!
Although in life our paths have never crossed, I am made to dream of this man, who now forces me to sleep among the dead. Now I am left all alone to dream the lifeless reverie of a lifeless corpse; in vain, I dream my body now moves...'I command you breathless corpse to move!'
Life has no meaning here. It has neither form nor substance. Life itself is helpless to overpower the darkness that surrounds this room, or to invade this room of breathless existence. Life itself must ignore my pleas for merciful and gentle understanding, and forever betray me... 'I entreat this form of flesh and frigid bone to arise from the stiffness and misery of this dark and lonely prison! I, Tracy Harris, implore my corpse to resurrect itself from the bondage of this lonely, lifeless room!'
Still my body does not respond, and the remains of my innocence are left upon this cold table...
Excerpt
Hawthorne prepares Room 1 by adjusting the proper amount of track lighting by neatly arranging the pattern of floral design. Triblinkus quietly enters. By observing unseen and silently, the entire scene of this imminent ceremony of grief is studied by the funeral director with intense and meticulous care.
Telescopically, the view of this entire room is viewed by Triblinkus while zooming in and out with twin blue lenses, which he will then magnify at will in order to view the appearance of the room, the corpse, and the feelings of the bereaved. Triblinkus not only understands exactly how a fine funeral ceremony should feel, he understands the silence of the dead, and while noticing the sorrow of the living feels the lament of those who grieve. This mortician looks for things that are out of place. This undertaker looks for anything that might disrupt the flow of these funeral proceedings, for nothing must ever go wrong in the house of Triblinkus - not today - not tomorrow. Not ever, must the name of Triblinkus be scorned or disgraced.
This house can no longer stand shamefully amidst the perverse shadows of murder and disgrace; and the process of unnatural selection dictates that George Triblinkus soon and certainly to die within this house, for Tracy Harris has triggered something within him - something vile and disgusting not to be tolerated by this house any longer. The voices of guilt are screaming at this very moment while his mind conjures the whims of sickening fancy; while his heart continues to furiously beat, a feverish sound inaudible to the pure of heart is heard and deciphered only by him.
It commences now - all the whispers of condemnation and hate lethally aimed towards the master of this house; and the perversion shall certainly consume itself sometime, somehow - and its paramour soon!
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