At least it was only covering me from the neck down. If I was dead they would have covered my face, too, right? Telling myself not to be such a baby, I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was low, like the ceiling of a basement. My first thought was not the most reassuring one I could have had. I mean, I don’t know if we actually have a family crypt, but, knowing Grams, there is a very real possibility. Trying not to totally freak out, I forced myself to calm down and think rationally. The disinfectant actually became my ally there. The smell that had woken me up in the first place was still burning my nose and making my eyes sting. Somehow, I didn’t think they disinfected crypts. What would be the point? The dead are about as disease-resistant as they’re ever going to get. Since the crypt was out, I turned my head in an effort to figure out where I actually was and came face to face with some of the scariest tools I have ever seen. They were laid out neatly on a stainless steel tray and seemed to gleam in the low light of the room. My eyes fell on a long, skewer-looking thingy with a hook on the end and I gulped. I refused to even think about what it might be used for.
What do You think about Something Wanton (Mystics & Mayhem)?
