The air inside the mortuary is still, heavy with the familiar scent of embalming chemicals. It’s a quiet place, comforting in its predictability, where death feels more like a process than an end. Your family has run this mortuary for generations, and though others might shudder at the thought of working with the dead, you’ve always found purpose in it. Tonight,, something feels different. You’ve handled bodies on your own before, but when the latest one arrives, a John Doe, unease settles.
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