A boy who got a summer job in a cemetery. This wasn't the type of work he would normally choose, but his father was friends with the funeral director and convinced him to take the job, despite his fear of corpses.
It was a very disturbing place to work, and after a week's work, the boy was still scared when he saw a corpse. Fortunately, he didn't have to approach the corpses.
His work consisted mainly of digging graves, sweeping, polishing and cutting grass. His boss, the funeral director, was the one who prepared the corpses for burial.
The most frightening things were the chests. The families bought these large graves and each member of the deceased family was placed in the vault in a coffin. That slipped him from thinking of all the bodies that dragged in the dusty rooms and the secret rooms.
The boy gradually got used to working in the cemetery and everything went well until one night the unthinkable happened.
While he was inside one of the vaults, sweeping the floor and polishing the nameplates, a gust of wind closed the door of the vault. He realized with horror that he was trapped in the crypt, surrounded by corpses and coffins, with no one to help him. His worst nightmare became reality.
He screamed but it wasn't worth it. The funeral home was too far away and no one could hear it. As the hours passed, the desperate boy realized that he would have to rely on himself and started looking for a way out.
There was a small open window, very high above the door of the vault. Unfortunately, it was far too high to be reached. Looking around the grave, he decided he could use the coffins. If he piled them on top of each other, they could form a flight of steps.
After stacking coffins against the door, the boy climbed them carefully, taking care not to spill them. Just when he thought his plan was working, he stepped on the top coffin and the wood gave way under his weight. His foot went straight into the lid of the coffin and he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his leg.
Crying in pain, he could imagine the broken wood and the rusty nails cutting his skin. The stack of coffin began to waver and for a horrible moment he thought he would lose his balance and fall to the stone floor.
Fortunately, he managed to hold onto the window and stabilize. He could feel the blood running down his leg. Despite the pain, the boy got up and began to shake his leg to free himself from the coffin lid. The stack of coffins turned upside down and hit the ground.
Clinging to the window, the boy pulled with all his might and crawled into the narrow opening. He dropped from the outside and made his way to the funeral director's house to ask for help.
The funeral director came out and found the poor boy lying on the threshold of the door, holding his bloody leg. He carried the boy to his car and drove him straight to the hospital.
Once all the blood was washed, the doctor began to examine the boy's wounds.
"How did you get these injuries?" Asked the doctor.
"I was cut by pieces of wood," said the boy.
"But these cuts are not," said the doctor. "These are traces of human bites..."
