I am thrilled to already start receiving 5 star reviews on my latest release: “Obtrusion Book 1 The Gathering”. Please enjoy a small excerpt. And Thank you for visiting my page.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall. So far, it had only been forty five minutes since she had begun. It normally took anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half to perform a simple embalming, but she was in no hurry this evening. She was paid the same no matter how long it took to finish.
With the lower torso complete, Molly moved on to the head. She was nearly done, just the final details and she could call it a night and get some much needed rest. She had already finished eight embalming procedures earlier that day, three here, and five at two other mortuaries. That was the one thing she liked about being a “freelancer”. She wasn’t stuck working at the same place day in and day out. Her mentor and friend David Mohr had instilled that idea in her.
Stifling a yawn, Molly proceeded to pat the curly brown hair dry after she had cleansed it with germicidal soap. She used the scissors to neatly trim along the nape of the neck. As she was combing the hair neatly into place and smoothing it with her other hand, she felt the baseball sized lump on top of his skull.
“That’s odd,” she thought out loud. “If he fell any distance and landed squarely on top of his head, not only would his skull be fractured and bloody, but who in the world lands head first from a hiking accident?” Without much further consideration, she figured he must have hit his head on a rock. Still, there was no blood from the wound.
His body had no other cuts or bruising. Molly shook her head and continued with the task at hand. Retrieving the eye caps from the utensil tray, she carefully lifted the closed eyelids and inserted the pieces under them. They covered his dark brown eyes and gave him the appearance of a zombie with no pupils– until she closed the lids back over them and applied a few dots of super glue to keep them closed. The eye caps would keep the area from having a sunken look at the viewing in the morning.
She was yawning more frequently now, and needed to get this one done and get home and rest. Tomorrow she had a busy schedule, and there was no telling when she could receive a call on another case.
The curved needle was cold in her hand, even through the latex gloves. She threaded the string through its eye. Pulling his lower lip down, she inserted it through his jaw below the gums, then stuck it through the upper jaw into the right nostril, then through the septum of the nose into the left nostril, where she would pass it back down into the mouth to create a natural appearance. When she tried to push the needle through the septum of the nose, which is mere cartilage, it stopped with a “tink”. She slipped it back a tiny bit and tried to force it through, but it wouldn’t budge. There was something definitely metallic in the septum.
She wondered if this guy had perhaps broken his nose and had some type of metal structural piece inserted to hold the formation, but that was something she had never heard of . . . using metal or even titanium prostheses in the nasal cavity.
She retracted the needle from the septum and carefully laid it against the chin. There was a portable x-ray scanner in the cabinet and she plugged it in. Hovering the device over the nose, she saw it. There was something metallic but it wasn’t a pin. It looked like some kind of flat circular microchip.
Molly’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew it didn’t belong there. She snatched the scalpel from the tray, and carefully cut away a small portion of the septum where the metallic object was imbedded. It was about the size of an eraser head. When she cut away the cartilage surrounding it, she discovered that it was no thicker than a dime. It appeared to be solid, and upon wiping it dry with the towel, it was as bright and shiny as glass. She retrieved a small zip pouch and dropped it into the bag.
Outside, something rustled through the bushes just along the side of the building. Molly heard a noise like footsteps. She stopped cold in her tracks, still holding the bag in her hand. Her breath caught in her throat as she focused on the sound.
anastaciamoore 