The Son of Necrophile
When they fired me from the factory, the long months of unemployment and
drinking clang to me like a trail. One winter night, returning home from one of
my haunts about the town, I saw my mother lying dead on the floor, large brown
cock-roaches crawling all over her body. I didn’t cry, but I did realize how
lonely I was now, the spider of heartache span a cobweb of my nerves, and I
drank more than ever.
Two months later, being very drunk, I tried to break into a shop at night. I
remembered nothing about it. I couldn’t protest. And after all, two years of
prison didn’t seem to be a very long time.
I dropped drinking. This is the only thing for which I can thank the prison. I
blush to remember how I was raped by three enormous guys. I didn’t commit
suicide like the other young man who had also been raped, but I felt terrible.
And once my “mates” decided to have fun, which resulted in multiple burns all
over my face. So now nobody could look at me without disgust.
The two years passed and I returned back to my home town. As I had expected, my
home was now home to some strange people, who weren’t going to let me in.
Nevertheless, I didn’t look for a consolation in alcohol – I knew how dangerous
it was – and with the help of the local militia I found a job in the local
morgue. My job was to do everything that the coroner, old Mr. Guriev, didn’t
want to do. He was a coroner to the stars, and I loved watching him break into
the chest of a corpse or remove gray intestines from the belly.
Of course, he wouldn’t let me do such things. I would wash the bodies, clean the
morgue, and do other unimportant things like that. I slept in a small room on
the first floor of the morgue, my neighbors were mops and other inventory.
Little by little, I began understanding the many aspects of a coroner’s work,
the scientific terms that Guriev used were no longer strange to me. It seemed
that the old man found a “pupil” – he taught me many things and even permitted
me make autopsies.
Half a year passed. Guriev died of heart attack, and I had to fill his position.
There’s nothing strange about it considering the size of our town. After all,
militia helped me – they did help me since they thought they had made a man of
me. Guriev was my first patient: never before had I opened the chest alone.
I loved the dead for their silence and indifference to the outside world. In
fact, I was also dead – nobody would speak to me, and it was hopeless to even
think about women, so I could only masturbate, that’s all. Besides, somehow it
became known what had happened back at prison, so it was now even harder for me
to walk to the local store and back – dirty words were heard all the time. The
store was the only place I visited. And only the dead never laughed at me, and I
tried to pay them for that, making the autopsy as carefully as possible. And I
talked to them to distract them from their pain. I was sure the dead feel it,
only they cannot express it.
Once a young woman was brought to the morgue. She died from drinking too much
sleepy pills. She had long red hair and a beautiful body, but her face... There
was a large ugly mole covering the left side of her face. She was really pretty
except this – and I could understand the pain she felt each time she looked in
the mirror.
It took me some time to start the autopsy. I was afraid of hurting her. I didn’t
want the scalpel to break this soft skin, I couldn’t even think of touching her
insides. The militia guys told me the girl had no relatives and that she was
going to be buried at the cost of the town. This inspired me. I asked them not
to bury her, but to leave the corpse at the morgue for further experiments. It
was risky, but after a while they agreed and signed the necessary documents.
I was happy. I didn’t have to cut her! You can enjoy your sleep, my beauty,
nobody is going to hurt you!
I placed her in the refrigerator to slow down the decomposing process. I
couldn’t have viruses torture my princess. Touching her breast, I suddenly felt
very strange, I ran my fingers down her belly and passion overwhelmed me. Unable
to control myself, I kissed her pale lips. Lord, how wonderful it was!
I took the body to my room and put her on the bed. Rigor mortis was not yet
complete, but it took me quite some time to put her in the appropriate position.
Finally, we kisses again and – good lord – it seemed that Lena answered me! I
quickly undressed...
Everything was simply marvelous, I had never felt anything like this before (the
last time I had slept with a woman was three years ago). Lena gave me the
feelings I would never forget. The orgasm was so strong that I almost lost
consciousness.
Two days later I noticed that Lena’s belly was fuller than before, but I thought
it was due to the decomposing. Nevertheless, the dead body felt as if it were
alive – very warm and soft, and no signs of rigor mortis appeared on it. It was
more than strange, considering that she was kept in my room, not in the
refrigerator. At night I had a dream that Lena was going to give birth to a
child, which caused me to come to a fantastic idea. In the morning I put my ear
to her belly and heard a little noise that sounded like heartbeat. I fell on the
floor. God, it was impossible!
Trying to hold myself together, I examined the body again. It was all true: a
little heart was beating in Lena’s dead womb. Going crazy with fear, I closed my
eyes. What is going on? How can a corpse be pregnant? Have I gone mad?
Three more days passed. I was afraid of approaching Lena, but I could see her
belly grow, despite all the laws of nature, right before my eyes. There were
still no signs of rigor mortis. I didn’t let anyone in my room.
Three weeks passed since the time I fucked Lena. Her belly now looked like one
of a real ninth-month pregnant woman. Putting on my robe and gloves, I took a
scalpel and made a long cut in the dead flesh. I hoped to get rid of the
nightmares starring a freakish baby boy.
Lena couldn’t show if she felt any pain. So I carried on this infernal abortion.
I was really ashamed, for I loved her. But there was really no other way. Soon I
found a little baby, a baby boy, not a freak at all. After I took him out, the
corpse began decomposing very rapidly, so a few minutes later there was nothing
but a disgusting pool on the table. Death finally took her.
The boy in my hands suddenly screamed, and I suddenly felt such enormous
affection to him, that tears stood in my eyes. I patted his head and said:
“Don’t cry, sonny. Daddy will take good care of you!”
The End
Copyright by Igor Mortis (1991).