The Corpse's Requiem: A Corpse's Last Goodbye

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a long, eerie shadow over the town of Eldridge. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the barren trees. The townsfolk had long since tucked themselves into their homes, unaware of the horror that was about to unfold.

In the center of town stood the old, abandoned church, its windows shattered, and its doors hanging slightly ajar. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the faint scent of decay. The pews were strewn with old hymnals, their pages yellowed by time.

At the front of the church, a solitary figure stood. He was a man in his mid-thirties, with a gaunt face and hollow eyes. His name was Thomas, and he had been tasked with performing the Corpse's Last Goodbye for the town's newest resident, a man named Edward.

Edward had been found dead in his home, a single gunshot wound to his chest. The police had ruled it a suicide, but Thomas knew better. There was something about Edward's death that felt... unnatural.

As Thomas approached the altar, he noticed a small, ornate box resting on the cold stone. It was a Corpse's Lament, a traditional memento mori that was meant to be read aloud at the time of death. He picked it up, its weight felt like a leaden hand pressing down on his chest.

The Corpse's Lament was a series of cryptic verses that spoke of the dead's final thoughts and fears. Thomas opened the box, revealing a piece of parchment with the first verse etched upon it:

"In the quiet of the night, the dead rise to speak,

Their final words, a warning, a farewell, a wake."

Thomas shivered, the words echoing in his mind. He continued to read, the verses growing more haunting with each line:

"The earth beneath our feet, a tomb of secrets,

In the darkness, we seek the light, but find none."

As he read, Thomas felt a strange sensation, as if the words were reaching out to him, pulling him into the world of the dead. He looked around the church, the shadows dancing in the flickering candlelight, and felt a chill run down his spine.

Suddenly, the door to the church creaked open, and a cold breeze swept through the room. Thomas turned, his heart pounding in his chest, to see a figure standing in the doorway. It was Edward, his eyes wide and filled with terror.

"Thomas," Edward whispered, his voice trembling. "I didn't kill myself. Someone... someone did it."

Before Thomas could respond, Edward's form began to fade, leaving behind only a faint outline. The Corpse's Lament in Thomas's hands seemed to pulse with a life of its own, its words growing louder and more desperate.

"Run, Thomas. Run!" the voice of Edward echoed in his mind.

Without hesitation, Thomas turned and fled the church, the Corpse's Lament clutched tightly in his hand. He ran through the empty streets of Eldridge, the shadows closing in around him. He could hear the whispers of the dead, their voices growing louder and more insistent.

He stumbled upon a small, rundown house at the edge of town. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see the flickering of candlelight inside. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, the darkness swallowing him whole.

The room was filled with old furniture and dusty trinkets, each piece a relic of a bygone era. In the center of the room stood a large, ornate mirror. Thomas approached it, his reflection staring back at him.

As he looked into the mirror, he saw not himself, but a figure that was both him and Edward. The figure's eyes were filled with fear and desperation, and it reached out to Thomas, its fingers brushing against his own.

"Thomas," the figure whispered. "You must kill me. Only then can you be free."

Before Thomas could react, the figure lunged at him, its hands reaching out to grab his throat. He fought back, his nails scratching at the creature's skin. The Corpse's Lament in his hand began to glow, its light illuminating the room.

The creature's form began to shatter, its essence being drawn into the Corpse's Lament. As it dissolved, Thomas felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a sense of relief washing over him.

He looked down at the Corpse's Lament, its glow now fading. He opened it, revealing the final verse:

"In the end, we are all the same,

A breath, a heartbeat, a soul that's free."

Thomas closed the Corpse's Lament, feeling a strange sense of peace. He knew that he had faced the darkness and emerged victorious, but he also knew that the dead would never truly rest.

As he left the house and walked back through the town, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. The shadows seemed to move with him, their eyes upon him, their whispers growing louder.

Thomas reached the edge of town and turned back, looking at the old church. He saw the figure of Edward standing at the altar, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, Thomas," Edward whispered. "You have saved us all."

With that, the figure of Edward faded away, leaving Thomas alone in the quiet night. He knew that he had faced the darkness, but he also knew that it would return, waiting for its next victim.

The Corpse's Requiem had been answered, but the dead's last goodbye was just the beginning of a much longer night.