Chapter 3 - MIDNIGHT APPROACHES
When we returned to the living room, the atmosphere had shifted from a somber wake to an oppressive, suffocating weight. Most of the extended family had retired to the upstairs guest rooms or left for nearby motels. Only my mother, Aunt Martha, Marcus, and Leo remained downstairs.
The grandfather clock in the foyer began its low, ominous prelude, chiming twelve times to signal midnight.
One.
Two.
Three.
Leo sat bolt upright in his chair. He pulled his stuffed bear tightly against his chest, his eyes locking onto Rachel’s face inside the open casket.
"He's doing it again," Aunt Martha murmured, crossing herself nervously. "Someone please get that boy away from there. It's unnatural."
Marcus stepped forward, his patience finally snapping completely. He reached down, grabbed Leo by the upper arm with a harsh, unyielding grip, and yanked the boy out of his chair.
"Enough of this morbid nonsense!" Marcus hissed, his voice finally losing its grieving-husband veneer and turning sharp and cruel. "Get up to your room, Leo. Right now!"
"Let go of him!" I shouted, rushing forward and shoving Marcus’s shoulder back.
Leo didn't cry out. He didn't throw a tantrum. But as Marcus stumbled backward, something impossible happened.
From inside the stiff navy blue dress Marcus had insisted on buying, right near the center of Rachel’s chest, a low, mechanical hum vibrated through the silent room.
Bzzzzzt.
May you like
It wasn't a heartbeat. It was a digital pulse.
Marcus froze. Every drop of color drained from his face, leaving him looking like a corpse himself.
