Postmortem

“You come here in the middle of the night and tell me you were dead yesterday, Sean. What am I supposed to think?”

“Think scientifically, Charlie,” I said, and I sat on the table. “You’re a doctor, after all.”

“I’m a coroner.”

“Even better.”

Charlie sat on his stool and eyed me carefully, his gaze drifting to the crimson-stained X on my chest.

“Three to the ticker?”

“Yep.”

I peeled back the tape and let my heart pump its congealed refuse onto Charlie’s floor. If he hadn’t believed me before, he sure did then.

“Christ, Sean.” He covered his mouth. “How the hell are you walking around?”

“That’s what I need to find out,” I said, and I smoothed the tape back down over the holes. “I need you to tell me how this is happening… and how long it’ll be before I drop for good.”

Charlie stood and paced the office.

“Sean, I mean…this isn’t exactly my area of expertise, you know? What am I supposed to do? Cut you open? See if you’re still… rotting inside?”

“Exactly. I need you to perform an autopsy.”

“And if it kills you?”

“I’m already dead, so your conscience can be clear.”

This story is for Andy Black’s Two For Tuesday prompt. This week’s words: Guilty Conscience. Check out the link for the other stories.

I’ve decided to keep going with my undead detective story this week, so if you missed part one and two, here you go:

The Series:
Dead Man Walking // X Marks the Spot // Postmortem // Basic Physiology // Les Moelleux // Her Body Begs for Death // The Talisman // Madelaine