On my first day working the night shift at the funeral home, I sewed up a female corpse in red.
When the needle thread passed through her neck, she suddenly opened her eyes and smiled at me: "Little corpse stitcher, what you are sewing is not me, but the last stitch to seal Ω."
From that day on, my world changed——
Omega gold coins were dug out of the mouths of rotting corpses in chemical plants, rich men walked into the morgue with bleeding from their orifices, and women in wedding dresses danced in the mirror every night...
Every time I sew a corpse, I get one more "gift" from the deceased:
Ghost eyes, poisonous sense, spiritual touch... And also, myself becoming less and less human.
Until that night, all the bodies I had sewn up sat up at the same time in the morgue.
They said in unison: "Corpsemaker, Lord Ω is waiting for you in the Meditation Studio."
I held the bloody suture needle tightly and pushed open the door.
Behind the door sat the long-dead grandfather who taught me how to sew corpses.
He smiled at me like a female corpse:
"My dear grandson, grandpa set up a trap, and you finally made it to the last step."
