Night Shift at the City Morgue: Why I Quit My Job with the Dead
You want to know why I quit working at the city morgue? This story will mess with your head for weeks.
I thought working the night shift at the morgue would be easy money. Dead people don't complain, right? Wrong. So fucking wrong.
What started as strange little things—tools moved overnight, body bags mysteriously unzipped—quickly escalated into a nightmare that made me question everything I thought I knew about death. The humming that came from upstairs at exactly 2 AM every night. The wet, sliding sounds from locked storage rooms. The handprint on the wall that was too big to be human.
This…
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