Extraordinary, Chapter Two

Darren Dray's story is one of sadness. At the age of eight, he lost both of his parents to a terrible sickness, and was forced to move in with his grandmother, who was so uncaring that she barely remembered he was there. Forced to depend on himself for everything, Darren's childhood was devoid of fun, friends, or joy. He grew to be a cold, emotionless man.

When he was 38 years old, his grandmother finally died and left him the family business; the Dray Funeral Parlor. For twenty years he has been running the business, and it is over the course of these twenty years that he discovered his ability.

The first time it was used, he was terrified. It left such an impression on him that he can still remember it, clear as day.

August 2nd, 1994

As the last grieving member of the Eckle family walked out of the funeral home, Darren locked up for the night. He went straight to work cleaning up the showing room that held the body of Robert Eckle. He knew they were sad, but did they have to be so messy?

Finally, he made his way over to the casket, and before closing the lid, he took a look at the body inside. Normally he didn't, but something about this man seemed different from the hundreds of others he saw every year. Something about the look on his face caused Darren's curious instincts to take over.

Even though he had never cared before about any of the bodies in his funeral home, he found himself interested about this one.

"I never even read your obituary. How did you die?" Darren wondered aloud.

"I was poisoned."

Shocked, Darren stumbled backwards, dropping the casket lid shut and falling over a chair. He remained on the floor for a few moments, then stood and slowly crossed over to the casket. He opened the lid and stared at the body. Its chest did not rise and fall to breathe, and his skin was pale and cold. But Darren was positive that he heard a voice.

"Did... did you just talk?" Darren stammered.

"Yes." The body of Robert Eckle replied, mouth opening to speak.

Darren stood there, eyes and jaw both wide. He was shaking like a leaf. Finally, he regained his composure.

"But... you're dead."

"Yes."

"And you're talking to me?"

"Yes."

"But that's impossible! Dead men don't talk!"

This time there was no reply from the body. Darren was beginning to sweat, and wiped it out of his eyes with his sleeve.

"You... you said you were poisoned."

"Yes."

"Who poisoned you?"

"Rebecca."

"Who's Rebecca?"

"My wife."

"But why would your wife poison you?"

There was no reply from Robert's corpse. Darren placed one hand over the body's face, unsure why, and to his surprise the eyes snapped open.

Darren recoiled in fear, but noticed that instead of pupils, what he saw in Robert's eyes was similar to a film reel. He looked closer and realized that he was literally seeing through the eyes of a dead man, seeing what he saw. He saw Robert signing papers for a life insurance company; he was insured for quite a bit of money.

"So that's it. She murdered you for money?"

"Yes."

"But... that's..." Darren couldn't even finish his sentence. He simply closed the lid on Robert's casket.

---

The next day, the Eckle family returned to grieve again. As always, Darren was present; but not in his office. Instead, he was standing in the showing room, watching the family, eavesdropping. He soon singled out the widow, Rebecca, and kept a close eye on her. He hadn't noticed yesterday that she didn't seem griefstricken, but he certainly noticed today.

When Rebecca stepped outside for a cigarette, Darren followed her. She noticed his presence and turned.

"Can I help you?" she asked, sincerely curious.

"I know what you did." Darren accused.

"What are you talking about?"

"You poisoned your husband."

"What...?"

"I know all about it. You poisoned him for money." Darren began to raise his voice.

A scared look came over Rebecca's face. "I... I..."

"You knew he was insured for quite a bit of money. So you poisoned him to get it. I know everything."

The scared look melted away, and was replaced with a smug one. "How?"

"He..." Darren caught himself. I can't tell her that he told me... I can't tell anyone. They'll lock me up.

"He what?"

Darren closed his mouth, turned and walked back in. There was nothing he could do. Nothing at all. Nobody would believe the word of a funeral home director who claimed to speak to a dead body.

Since that day, Darren has made it habit to speak to every corpse that entered his building. The dead have some interesting stories to tell.