Whispers in the Funeral Home
The three of them—Alisha, Joel, and Sam—looked at each other, none of them speaking. Jackie’s words echoed in their ears. Aubrey’s waiting.
With cautious steps, they followed her through the dim hallway. The air felt colder here, pressing against their skin.
Then a sudden sound stopped them.
Soft, broken sobs.
They turned their heads. At the end of the hallway, in a small lit room, they saw a woman in a white dress kneeling beside a coffin, her shoulders trembling as she cried.
Joel’s breath hitched. Sam’s face went pale.
“Oh, hell no,” Sam whispered. “That looks like a ghost.”
Alisha’s heart jumped into her throat, but then she squinted and realized. “Relax,” she muttered quickly. “She’s just a guest… grieving.”
Joel tried to laugh, though it came out shaky. “Right. A guest. Totally saw that coming.”
Sam forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Yeah. Ghosts don’t wear high heels, right?”
But the woman in white suddenly turned her head. Her eyes were swollen and red, her makeup streaked down her cheeks. For a second, her gaze lingered on them. Then she turned back to the coffin.
Alisha scratched her head nervously. “Let’s… let’s just keep moving.”
Trying to steady their breaths, they followed Jackie until she opened a door with a brass plate that read Director’s Office.
“Come in,” Jackie said, her tone smooth and calm.
Inside, the office smelled faintly of flowers mixed with formaldehyde. The shelves were lined with black binders. On the desk lay a framed photo of Jackie and Aubrey, their arms wrapped around each other, smiling brightly.
Alisha sat down first, crossing her legs and fixing her gaze on Jackie. Joel and Sam remained standing behind her.
“Jackie,” Alisha began, her voice steady, “we’re not here to accuse you. We only want to know if Aubrey is truly missing… or if maybe you’ve been helping her hide.”
Jackie’s eyebrows arched high, and she crossed her arms. “Of course not,” she said sharply. “Even if I’m Aubrey’s best friend, I’d never do such a thing. Do you think I’d let her parents suffer like this?”
Then she lit a candle beside Aubrey’s photo and caress it.
Alisha leaned forward. “But you know something.”
Jackie’s expression darkened. “What I know is that Bea and Adrian destroyed her. They betrayed her. Aubrey was fragile that night. And instead of helping, they pushed her into despair.”
Joel frowned. “So you think Bea and Adrian are behind her disappearance?”
Jackie’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “If not directly, then indirectly. They broke her spirit. I warned Bea, but she didn’t care. Adrian was the love of Aubrey’s life. Losing him crushed her.”
Alisha nodded slowly. “Jackie, have you ever heard of a man named Archie? A beggar near the market. He claims he saw what happened the night Aubrey disappeared.”
Jackie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Archie…” She paused, tapping her finger against her arm. “Yes. I know him. Everyone in the neighborhood does. He’s a lunatic. But I remember once…”
Joel leaned in. “Once what?”
Jackie’s voice dropped. “Once, I saw him watching Aubrey from a distance. He had this… strange look in his eyes. Like obsession. He even asked around about her. She laughed it off, said he was harmless.”
Sam let out a low whistle. “Harmless my ass. The guy licked Alisha’s hand when we tried talking to him.”
Jackie’s eyes widened. “He touched you?”
Alisha shivered, rubbing her wrist. “Yes. He grabbed me. Joel and Sam had to pull me away.”
Jackie shook her head slowly. “Then you should be careful. Archie’s not just crazy—he’s dangerous. And if he had a crush on Aubrey…” She trailed off, the implication heavy in the room.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Finally, Alisha asked, “Jackie… if Aubrey trusted you, why wouldn’t she come here? Hide with you?”
Jackie’s eyes flickered, and for the first time, she looked nervous. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. “She… she would have. But she didn’t. I haven’t seen her since the day before she vanished.”
Joel crossed his arms, studying her. “Funny, you said Aubrey’s waiting. What did you mean by that?”
Jackie’s face stiffened, her smile returning—but it was forced this time. “It was just a figure of speech.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t sound like it.”
Jackie stood abruptly, brushing her dress smooth. “Why don’t I show you the last place Aubrey and I talked? Maybe it’ll help you understand.”
She opened the door, waiting for them to follow.
Alisha hesitated, exchanging a glance with Joel and Sam.
Joel whispered, “I don’t like this.”
Sam muttered, “Neither do I. But if we don’t follow, we’ll look suspicious.”
Taking a deep breath, Alisha stood. “Alright. Show us.”
Jackie led them down a narrow hallway that grew darker with every step. The sound of their shoes echoed softly against the polished floor.
They passed another room where a faint hum of machinery came from behind a closed door.
“What’s that?” Joel asked quietly.
Jackie smiled without looking back. “The embalming room.”
Joel and Sam exchanged uneasy looks.
Finally, Jackie stopped before a tall wooden door at the end of the hall. She turned the handle slowly and pushed it open.
The room beyond was lit by a single flickering bulb. Inside was a small couch, a vanity table, and on the wall—a large photo of Aubrey, smiling in her graduation gown.
Alisha stepped inside carefully. “This… is where you last spoke to her?”
Jackie’s voice was soft now. “Yes. She sat on that couch. She cried. She said she had nowhere to go. I told her to stay with me. But she left.”
Alisha touched the photo frame, her stomach twisting.
Suddenly, Sam stiffened. “Do you hear that?”
They all froze.
A faint sound. Muffled.
It came from under the floor.
A soft, drawn-out scratching.
Joel’s face drained of color. “Tell me that’s a rat.”
Alisha’s pulse quickened. She crouched down, pressing her ear to the floor.
The sound grew louder. Not scratching.
Knocking.
Three slow, deliberate knocks.
Her blood ran cold.
“Jackie…” Alisha whispered, her voice trembling, “what’s under here?”
Jackie stood in the doorway, her smile widening unnaturally.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
The bulb above flickered violently, shadows stretching across the walls.
And from beneath the floor—
A voice.
A faint, hoarse whisper.
“Help me…”