Picking Up the Pieces by Pieter Whittington

Thrills & Chills! Check back here each day leading up to Halloween for a new story written at an Inlandia workshop for those wanting to write for Ghost Walk. This story was a selection for the 2015 Ghost Walk.

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Setting: INT. FORMER CORONER’S MORGUE – NIGHT

(the audience interacts with ghost)

The audience fills the room. It’s cold. Pale.

A VOICE OVER narrates. Echoes the room.

NARRATOR: He was a pet doctor. A successful one at that. He could cure any illness. And fix any broken bone. He was the best… But soon after, his wife died of a tragic illness, and he could not save her. And after he laid her to rest, he turned into a lonely man… So everyday, to rid his mind, he’d walk the railroad. (the sound of a TRAIN APPROACHES) One day on a walk near the railroad tracks, old man Bennett took a walk. His hearing was low, and he could not hear the train coming from behind.

SMASH. A SKID. A YELP.

NARRATOR: His body was littered throughout the yard… Most of his body was taken to this morgue, but the rest of him was lost… And now he comes to pick up the pieces.

The LIGHTS FLICKER

NARRATOR: So every night, Dr. Bennett comes and lurks this morgue to find his body parts.

A MORGUE WORKER pulls out a crate.

NARRATOR: So after careful searching and digging, we found the rest of him. And today, we come to return it to him… Would anyone like to volunteer to return them to him?

The chosen few are handed skeleton bones. A hand. An arm. A femur. A hip. And a skull.

NARRATOR: They say when you turn off the lights. And they say, if he comes, do not run. Do not move a soul, or you go with him… Do not scream, do not touch him if you want to go home.

The sound of a TRAIN comes and goes. The LIGHTS flicker.

NARRATOR: He’s here.

The LIGHTS TURN OFF. In the dark–

A cane STUMPS the ground.

OLD MAN BENNETT: (a deep slow voice) I am here to pick up the pieces.

A loud KNOCK. And a THUMP.

OLD MAN BENNETT: I am here to pick up the pieces.

Another loud KNOCK.

The LIGHTS turn on.

An OLD MAN stands there gaunt, heavy eyes of no sleep. Pale brown suit. Black boots. And a claw that holds a cane.

OLD MAN BENNETT: I am here to pick up the pieces.

The old man scours the audience. Sniffing. Smelling. Showing his rotted teeth.

Old man Bennett carries a bag. Opens it wide. And walks to his part. The audience member drops it into the bag.

Dr. Bennett gladly ties up his bag. Satisfied, he looks up into the sky. And smiles.

He walks away, into a bright light.

THE END