Nathan trudged into the morgue that night, his mind heavy with the thought of the missing equipment. He’d had several cups of coffee to keep him alert, determined to face whatever was going on. He couldn’t shake the sense that something was off, but he couldn’t let fear control him.
As he settled into the chair, the silence felt thicker than usual. The faint rustling sound, which he had convinced himself was part of the prank, started again. This time, it was louder, more persistent, and the air around him felt colder. He rubbed his arms, trying to ignore the chill.