The one numbered with the corpses can cause miracles to exist, says the evil cultist in my grandmother's final rite. One part of the cultic ceremony was to invite a volunteer to summon the inert remains back to life.An intense horror maimed my spirits, when I felt a magnetic force coming from my grandmother's coffin that pulled me closer to it. Darn there was a magnetite stamped underneath my shoes! I pulled off the one on the right, hell it dragged me by my left foot, instead... so I took it off too! I said "I DON'T WANT TO!" I yelled out. Then my father stood up and warned the cultist. "NOT HER." He said firmly.
Early dawn, I woke up from that dreadful dream. A nightmare.
For me there's nothing more frightening than a brisk carcass in a casket. The sight of the coffin alone gives me too much fright, and its distinct smell sickens me. Ohhh please... I hate funerals!
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