On the first day of the funeral home vigil, I died.
At three o'clock in the morning, my body was nailed to the morgue, and my handwriting appeared on the succession list, which read the seventh rule: "Dead employees must still be on duty as normal." The evil spirit bared his teeth and pushed the employment agreement in front of me. I looked down and saw my transparent palms, but smiled - "Sorry, I abide by the rules of the living, but I should write the rules of the dead."
When the lights in the morgue flickered for the seventh time, I held down the corpse's wrist. All the monsters are trembling. They don't know that the biggest horror of this funeral parlor is that they have just signed in.
