The Mortician - Book One: Soul Searcher

The song of the nocturne may silence the memory, but never the soul . . . ...Before you read this, I must warn you. Even though I died long ago and have been trapped in this outlandish place that is neither Heaven nor Hell, the evidence I am attesting to is in favor of the great beyond-the same great beyond our Lord promised us. You must understand that there are other things beyond this universe and the celestial bodies even, entities and creatures, all with their own agendas, and we are the lost souls, mixed in the afterworld melting pot. Here, we are the strangers... The stillness tore my gaze from hers. Vale! How could I forget my client? This was his sedan after all. Natalie was his wife. Still soundly afar, Vale slept, slumped over in the passenger seat. I couldn't believe it. The man had still remained stranded on sandman's sundering island, still limply curled against the car door. The inertia stretched a blanket of Natalie's photos all over his lap. Thank God he took those sleeping pills. I never thought they'd work. Not once had he slept through our expedition. I wondered whether Vale had ever slept since that dreadful day when he found his beautiful lass strewn upon the floor in a puddle of her own blood and a gun clenched in her hand. She erased herself from him, and every night he pondered whether or not she would do it again, and every day he wondered how many times she killed herself before. Would she ever stop? What tormented souls go through in this afterlife...

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