More Than a Corpse

     I figured it was best to not take any chances, so I put on a pair of gloves before picking up the shovel. I knew what was expected of me, and although I didn't like it, I began to dig. It was a pretty big hole, took me about two hours, the Clay was hard and dry, like the stuff you see in commercials for skin products. Four feet down, I finally found what I was there for: a wooden box, made out of OSB, and held shut with sheetrock screws. It was a piece of junk, but it was also the size of a coffin. I was scared, I didn't know what I was going to find. No, I did, I just wasn't ready for it. I lifted the box up, and tucked some dirt under it, so the whole thing was laying flat, and cleared the dirt from the top of it. It took me awhile to get all of the screws undone, since I hadn't brought a power drill, but I finally got them all out, and pushed the plywood lid off of the box.

     It was exactly what I was expecting, and exactly what I was afraid of: a corpse. I slid the lid back onto the box and sat back, frantic. I used to talk a big game, but I was damn certainly not the tough guy I pretended to be. I was much more nervous back then. I used to spend all of my time talking about how I was a natural survivor, and my plans for the apocalypse, but when shit hit the fan, I was completely unprepared. Here I was, sitting in a hole in the middle of a dried up lake, with a corpse in a cheap wooden box, and the sun was going down.

     I pulled out my flashlight and moved back to the box, determined not to panic. I slid the lid off of the box, and looked inside. The man seemed a bit too young to be dead naturally, which was a stupid thought. Of course he didn't die naturally, the hole in his head was pretty solid evidence of that. Anyway, the guy was maybe thirty-five or forty, brown hair, closed eyes, and lots of blood dried on him. It was hard not to focus on all the blood. So, in an effort to keep from focusing on the blood, I actively averted my eyes. You know, the way you do when there is obvious cleavage in a civilized setting. While I was averting my eyes, I noticed the underside of the lid of the "coffin", and noticed something painted on there. I flipped the lid over and looked at the words hastily spray-painted there: INSTALL IT.

     I looked at the body, my eyes locked on his chest, and knew what was going to happen. I was about to put a heart into a corpse. I pulled open the man's shirt, and saw a hastily stitched and stapled wound down his sternum. Dear god, I was about to do it, I was going to open up a corpse. I Grabbed out my multitool and started pulling staples. They were huge things, wide and made of thick wire, with the flesh discolored where they had entered. I pulled out all of the staples except the middle-most one, which strained against the ribs. I built up my courage and yanked the last one- then, as the ribs sprang open, I was overwhelmed by stench.

     Clearly this man had not been preserved very well. Jumping back from the smell, I grabbed a handkerchief, and tied it over my mouth, then moved back to the corpse and shone my flashlight inside. Of course there were all of the giblets and other bits in there, but there were also a few shining bits of stainless steel, and a box near the back attached to them with little wires. So, I did what any normal human being would do: I vomited. Then I opened up the package I had brought with me, and brought out the heart, beating still. I lowered it into the cavity, and lined up the connectors, and after a few beats from the now-installed heart, something terrible happened. The body began to talk to me.

     "Hello, and I'm sorry"
Okay, the body wasn't talking, but a recording was playing from inside the box inside of it. Absolutely horrible.
     "I don't know what your name is, but mine is Gregory Faulkner. I know that at this point, none of this makes sense to you, and you must be scared. I am so sorry that this has fallen to you, but I couldn't trust the tasks ahead of you with anyone related to me. Now that I am dead, they will all be watched, so there is nothing they can do. Only a stranger would be safe. Please forgive me. There are several items that have been hidden by other strangers, who also didn't ask for what they have gotten. If I have built my web correctly, my death will prevent all of the work I have done from falling to shambles. I stumbled into something big. There are incredible powers at work trying to keep things progressing down the path they are on, and if things continue this way, horrible things are going to happen. I can't tell you more on this recording, it's not safe. However, I can point you to the first location, the first piece of this puzzle. There are several people involved in this, several strangers who have been pulled into this, and I can only pray for forgiveness for that. But you, whom I have never met, you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I can never repay you enough for it. The first clue is this: "4844 NVJK AVWWVIJFE SFLCVMRIU, CFJ REXVCVJ" Obviously, for safety's sake, this message had to be encoded, but you have the key if you have my heart. Thank you, and please forgive me.

I still have the key, here's a picture.

     That was it. the last wishes of a dead man, and with them, the greatest responsibility ever placed on one man. I took the heart out, and re-inserted it, recording the message on my phone. I removed it again, and this time, I cut it open, trying to sever whatever wires were inside, and when I did, I caught a small beaded chain. The chain had a small key on it. I put the key around my neck, and pulled the box out of Gregory's chest, and stomped on it, again and again, screaming, crying, and angry. It took me probably an hour to compose myself, then all I could do was put him back. I closed the box, and shoveled all the dirt back onto his shitty unmarked grave.
I still haven't forgiven him.