A Grave Mistake

Oliver was not a religious man. He couldn't recall the last time he'd set foot in a place of worship, asking forgiveness for sins committed. It might have been years since he'd attended mass, but he still had a general idea of the rules. No, Oliver never needed church to tell him what was right or wrong. He felt as if it was common sense, really.

What he was about to do, however, felt very, very wrong.

"You sure about this?" He yelled over the roar of the excavator. Rain dripped from a yellow hard hat onto the poncho covering his fluorescent safety vest. The foreman grimaced at the question and turned, muddy boots squelching.

"I've told you already, the township wanted it done last week. If we don't finish in a timely manner we could lose any future contracts. If you like weekly paychecks you'll stop harassing me and start pulling some weight."

Oliver winced at the thinly veiled threat and watched as the machine opened its jaws, spewing brown soil. "It just feels a little... sacrilegious."

The foreman snorted and pulled out a buzzing cell phone. "One patch of land is as good as another. If you don’t like it, try asking the dead what they think?" He walked away as he answered the call, leaving Oliver with his doubts.

The tombstones were stacked in a pile, great slabs of weathered stone with names lost to time. He wondered how they would match up names with bodies. Knowing his boss, there would be little to no effort. Sighing, Oliver splashed through a puddle over to the blue tarp where the exhumation crew was huddled around.

Remains were scattered on the canvas, brittle skeletons glistening as the water rolled off cracked and yellowed bones. Vacant eye sockets watched the crew bustling around, assembling ancient frames like human jigsaw puzzles. Once a corpse was completely unearthed, the crew slid it into a white body bag, then tagged it with name and dates.

“I need a jaw bone over here! Anyone got a jaw?” The call came from a man crouched over a shattered skull. “No jaws here, but I can give you a hand.” Another man chuckled, waving crusty digits. Oliver felt slightly sick at the carefree antics. These were people once, they deserved more respect than to be the butt of a joke.

“Hey, are you sure that arm bone goes with that body?” A woman stared as her co-worker pieced a skeleton together far too quickly. He shrugged without looking up. “Look Sheila, it’s Friday and it’s raining. These corpses have been here for centuries, nobody is going to care if a few shin bones get mixed up.”

Her response was lost in the roar of the excavator, spewing black smoke into the humid air. Someone was waving to him from inside the machine. Trudging past the rows of bones, Oliver headed towards the hydraulic monstrosity.

The driver opened the glass door and spat a stream of tobacco juice into the graveyard mud.

“What’s up, Louie?” Oliver asked wearily. Louie scratched his chin and stared up at the gray sky. “I know the boss wants us to finish today but this rain’s bogging down the machine. I told him we needed treads, not wheels. Bastard rented the cheaper one, so now the wheels keep spinning out in this muck.” He spat again.

Oliver inspected the massive wheels, half sunk in the brown mire. “She’s good and stuck, isn’t she?” Louie nodded. “I told him this would happen. That cheap sonuvabitch doesn’t care.” He hopped out, splashing Oliver as he landed.

“Thanks.” Oliver said sarcastically. Louie shrugged again and spat.

“What’s the hold up here?” The sour voice of the foreman made Oliver tense up apprehensively. Louie pointed at the wheels. “She’s stuck. If we’d had treads maybe it would be a different story.”

The foreman swore and squinted at the huge holes scarring the graveyard. “How far did you get?” Louie rubbed his neck. “The good news is we only got two left, but the machine ain’t going anywhere.”

Checking his watch, their boss muttered to himself. “Alright, Louie you grab Bill and the new kid. See if you can dig out the excavator so we can bring her back.”

Louie nodded and spat. “I’m on it, chief!” Turning to Oliver, the foreman smiled unpleasantly. “Since you look like you need something to do, why don’t you dig out the other two so we can leave this stinking hellhole?”

“By myself?!” Oliver started to protest but he didn’t like the look in his boss’s eye. “And if you don’t finish both of them, you can look for another job.” His superior snarled. Oliver swallowed the things he wanted to say and took a deep breath. “Sure thing… boss.”

The ground was soft but each shovelful smelled worse than the last. Oliver’s nose wrinkled as a foul mixture of methane and rot burned his nostrils. “What an asshole.” He grumbled, flinging another scoop of heavy dirt. Peering out from the stinking hole, he watched his co-workers attempt to dig out the excavator with little success. He took pleasure in their failure, grinning wickedly as a string of curses floated on the chilly breeze.


As Oliver doggedly worked, his thoughts turned to the exhumation crew. He wondered what would happen if they just gave up and tossed all the bones together, dumping them into a pit. What would that feel like? To be mixed up with strangers, trapped underground in a crowded darkness…

While he tried not his mind wander too far, people slowly filtered out of the graveyard. It was closing time for the site, yet the workers neglected to let him know. Soon Oliver was the only living soul in a place meant for the dead.

Gradually, the overcast sky dimmed as the invisible sun dipped towards the horizon. Oliver shivered as rain-soaked clothes clung to his thin frame, sapping his body heat. Muscles ached as exhausted arms forced the shovel into the swampy mess. There was a crack. Oliver froze. He finally reached the coffin.

Poking his head up, he called out for the exhumation team. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Shadows slowly spilled into empty gashes where the dead once lay. The blue tarp flapped in the wind, white body bags lined in rows, tags waving gently. Where was everyone? He wondered. Looming against the fading sunlight, the huge machine looked faintly menacing. Oliver ducked as a gust shrieked by, hurling rain like bullets.

Thunder boomed in the distance. At this point, Oliver decided, it was time to clock out and spend a long weekend forgetting about this unpleasant affair. “That’s enough grave digging for one day.” He muttered and threw the shovel out of the hole. Climbing out was a little more difficult and slippery but Oliver managed nonetheless.

While wiping the rotten smelling mud off, something caught his eye. It was in the shadows at the bottom. A decaying wooden box, boards warped and moldy. Oliver frowned. He didn’t remember uncovering it. Perhaps he’d forgotten in his elated rush to leave.

The wind softly howled, growing in tone and intensity. Raindrops pattered on the musty coffin, making hollow thumps as they landed. It sounded as if something was knocking from the inside. Knock knock, who’s there? Oliver shuddered at the thought and turned away. A second thunderclap spurred him to move faster, shuffling past the rows of white body bags.

He tried his best not to think about what lay inside them as he trotted past. The only thing on his mind was getting in his car, turning on the heat, and when he got home there was a bottle of whiskey waiting.

Lightning slashed across the heavens with a deafening thunder crack. Oliver flinched and slipped on a patch of mud. He fell with a splash, dirty water blurring his vision. The breeze shrieked an unearthly wail as Oliver struggled to clear his sight. Blinking, he witnessed the scene before him with mounting dread.

The body bags lay open.

With a slither, the corpses slid out of the plastic cocoons. They weren’t skeletal like before but seemed clad in flesh once again. The skinless bodies were misshapen, ill-fitting legs and arms jutting from the wrong places. Some had too many limbs and others too few. Squirming through the muck they writhed towards him, moaning with multiple voices laid atop each other in hellish harmony.

Oliver backed away, whimpering as they crept ever closer.

Crawling in filth, naked muscles twitching, raw fingers clawed at the soft earth, leaving deep furrows in their need to reach him. Mouths gaped, bloody lips peeling back from glistening teeth. One corpse was missing a jaw, gray tongue lolling from a crimson skull. It lunged at Oliver, making him shriek. He stumbled backward as the thing reached for him. A sinewy hand clutched at his leg, leaving a gory stain.

Kicking it away, Oliver fled from the skinless horrors.

The wind howled past, hard raindrops pelting him painfully. Lightning slashed the sky with fury, thunder ringing in his ears as Oliver frantically ran towards his car.

Behind him, the creatures whispered and groaned, words hissing between the hideous cacophony. He didn’t dare look back. They were moving faster, mud squelching beneath sanguine limbs as they followed. Imagining the hands reaching for him, he spurred himself on faster.

Lungs burning, Oliver wheezed desperately. The crumbling tombstones were close and behind them lay the graveyard gates. Just a little more, he gasped.

Then he was past the gates and flinging open the door to his car, jamming the keys in the ignition and slamming on the gas. He scarcely remembered the hectic drive. It wasn’t until he was finally home that Oliver relaxed, collapsing on the bed and passing out in exhaustion and relief.

But his rest was uneasy.

They came for him in his sleep, the skinless corpses hissing his name. Oliver… Help us…

Caressing his face with too many fingers. A fleshy body grinned with two heads, grotesque arms reaching to the floor. Another stood on three legs, eyes burning from a neck-less skull. They put us together wrong, Oliver…

Warped arms stuck out at unnatural angles, wrapping around his chest as they slithered closer. Muscles and tendons oozed blood, soaking his clothes. Where is our skin? We are so cold without it…

Hands grasped him, pulling him underground as they whispered. They took our skin from us...

Oliver tried to shout, choking on grave dirt filling his nose and mouth. The creatures held him in their endless embrace.

Now we will take yours…

He awoke from the suffocating darkness, screaming until he realized it was only a nightmare. Clinging to the safety of his pillow, he sighed in relief.

Once Oliver managed to recollect himself, he realized there was someone knocking on the door. Grumbling, he put his slippers on and went to see what the fuss was about.

At the door, a policeman asked a groggy Oliver what he remembered from yesterday. “Uh… I helped dig holes for the exhumation crew and went home?” He swallowed, leaving out the nightmare he'd experienced. “Why the question, officer?”

The policeman grimaced, revealing the reason with great reluctance. “No one from the exhumation crew made it home last night. ”

Oliver swallowed nervously as the man continued. “We investigated the dig site and found… Well, let’s just say we’re going to need your help identifying the bodies.”