Page 48 of Grave Humor

The dead mattered. Working at the funeral home had reinforced my belief that they mattered. Some went to the next life with no one on the mortal coil to care about their loss.

The corpse’s sword tempted me. I didn’t really need to know how to use it to stab the bastard, did I? How hard was it to grab the hilt and run him through with it? I’d helped with the bodies often enough to understand it took a lot of force to pierce through flesh and bone.

I was willing to put in the effort to do the job right. My education on human anatomy had gotten extensive expansion since working at the funeral home.

It took me a few moments to gather the will to step from the skeleton and its sword.

Hundreds of bodies lined the walls of the catacomb, many of them Roman, and some seemed somehow older. One body caught my attention, its position reversed, and its head resting near the opening of its niche. Unlike the others, it clutched stone weapons. “What’s this body?”

“Ah. That’s an interesting one. He’s from the Stone Age, probably the start of it. Anatomically, he’s not quite human, and we think he’s likely the previous evolutionary stage of humanity. I don’t know what they’d call his species, but he’s not homo sapiens.

“Is he a Neanderthal?”

“No.” Director Hammel came close and gestured to the skeleton’s skull. “See where the sphenoid should be?”

In modern humans, a small piece of bone alongside the head served as a connection point between the frontal, parietal, and temporal sections of the skull. I leaned close to examine the spot. Rather than the small bone I expected, the frontal bone jutted down and formed an odd plate that spanned over the parietal and temporal bones. When covered with skin, I suspected it would create an odd ridge near the ear. “There’s no sphenoid at all.”

“Right. The interior of the skull also shows a different structure. At some point in the evolutionary chain, part of the frontal section of the bone detached to form what we know as the sphenoid. There are other differences in the skeleton as well. They had an extra toe, their toes were longer and possessed an extra joint, as did their thumbs.”

I checked the skeleton’s thumb. Sure enough, it had an extra joint and was twice as long as I expected from a human one. “That’s amazing. And nobody knows this is here?”

“That’s correct. It’s part of the contract for the grounds. I see no need to keep this place secret once my work here is done. I’ll have what I need. These skeletons were sacred to the prior caretakers. There are only a few bodies in here worth such care. But as they interest you, I will show you something truly interesting before I show you the important bodies.”

Director Hammel had one of the missing pieces of humanity’s puzzle, and he didn’t think it was interesting?

His idiocy astounded me.

Still, cooperation would keep me alive longer, and I flirted with the idea of growing a mean streak to rival anyone else in town. “Okay.”

“This way.”

At a four-way junction in the catacombs, he led me down a narrow corridor devoid of burials. Instead, carvings depicting ancient mythology from all around the world decorated the walls. I stopped at an image portraying the devil and the heavens’ congregation of angels, and a chill swept through me.

There was something dangerous about the mural, as though a few etchings of a chisel might bring the whole thing to life and bring ruin to any who might stare upon it.

“It’s just a blank wall. I know it’s weird, but I guess they never got to finishing that section of the catacombs.”

Wait. What? I touched the devil’s image, the face recognizable as the being I knew to be Satan with a few alterations. His eyes and jawline were somehow softer. His body resembled some Olympian god’s rather than the more slender visage he’d presented at the mall.

The wings showed him in full angelic glory, and he lacked horns.

I examined the rest of the wall and pointed at a portrayal of Medusa. “What is this?”

“The truth of all things, through the eyes of the catacomb’s makers.”

I sucked in a breath.

Angels existed in the mortal coil because their true visages would erase mortal humans from existence. I’d heard rumors the devil himself could also erase mortals should any look upon his true self. The unsettled feeling intensified, and I returned back to the image of the devil. I lifted my hand and rested my fingers on his perfect face.

While Director Hammel saw nothing, I felt every groove of the carving beneath my fingertips.

The other angels, like their devilish brother, resembled Olympian gods in their perfection, but they bore human faces.

They could have been any old Joe on the street.

I tore myself away from the curiosity and followed after Director Hammel.

Why had I seen the carvings where he saw nothing?