The Corpse Caterer's Last Supper

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the desolate village of Eldridge. The wind howled through the streets, carrying with it the scent of decay and the faintest whisper of forgotten screams. It was a place where the living and the dead danced together in a macabre waltz, and the Corpse Caterer was the maestro of this grim symphony.

In the heart of Eldridge stood the old, decrepit inn, its windows shattered, its doors hanging askew. It was here that the Corpse Caterer had held his infamous feasts, inviting the most destitute and desperate souls to dine on the bodies of the recently deceased. The legend spoke of their last words, a chilling plea for help that echoed through the night, only to be met with silence and the clinking of silverware.

Evelyn had grown up with the whispers of the Corpse Caterer's feasts. Her grandmother had spoken of the terror that had once gripped the village, of the nights when the inn's doors would creak open and the smell of roasting flesh would fill the air. But Evelyn had always dismissed the tales as mere bedtime stories, the fabrications of an anxious mind.

That was until the day she found her sister, Emily, collapsed at the edge of the village, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear. The doctor had pronounced her dead, but Evelyn knew better. She had seen the flicker of life in her sister's eyes, the unspoken plea that called out to her to save her.

Desperate, Evelyn turned to the Corpse Caterer's inn. She had heard the rumors, the whispers of those who had dared to venture inside. They spoke of the darkness that lay within, the spectral figures that would appear at the tables, the chilling laughter that seemed to come from everywhere.

Stepping through the inn's creaking doors, Evelyn was greeted by the sound of a grand piano playing a haunting melody. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and the faintest hint of something sweet, like caramel. She had taken a step too far, she knew, but she couldn't turn back now.

The room was grand, with an enormous table stretching from wall to wall, covered in fine linens and set with silverware and crystal glasses. Evelyn's eyes scanned the room, searching for her sister, but there was no sign of her. Instead, she was met with the sight of a man in a long, flowing robe, his face obscured by a mask that bore the image of a skeleton.

"Welcome, Evelyn," the Corpse Caterer's voice was smooth, almost melodic, but it sent a shiver down her spine. "You have been chosen to dine with us tonight."

Evelyn's heart raced as she took her seat across from the Corpse Caterer. She had heard the tales of the last words, the chilling final breaths of those who had been ensnared by the Corpse Caterer's clutches. She knew that each bite of the meal would be a step closer to her own demise.

The Corpse Caterer lifted his glass, and Evelyn did the same, her hand trembling. "To the dead," he said, his voice a whisper. Evelyn drank, and as the liquid touched her lips, she felt a coldness spread through her body, a sense of dread that she had never known before.

The first course was a rich stew, thick with the meat of the recently deceased. Evelyn forced herself to take a bite, her stomach churning with nausea. She could taste the decay, the rot, the very essence of death.

The Corpse Caterer watched her with a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural light. "You are brave, Evelyn," he said. "Braver than you know."

The next course was a roasted bird, its skin charred and its eyes hollow. Evelyn's hand shook as she raised her fork, but she managed to take a bite, the taste of blood and smoke overwhelming her senses.

As the meal progressed, Evelyn began to see the spectral figures that others had spoken of. They were translucent, ethereal, and they moved with a life of their own. She watched as they danced around the table, their laughter echoing in her ears.

The Corpse Caterer's voice broke through the cacophony. "You must choose, Evelyn. Join us in the afterlife, or return to the world of the living."

Evelyn's eyes met the Corpse Caterer's, and she knew that she had to make a decision. She had to save her sister, but at what cost? She had to choose between the living and the dead, between life and death.

With a deep breath, Evelyn pushed her chair back and stood. "I choose the living," she declared, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

The Corpse Caterer's eyes widened in surprise. "You cannot escape, Evelyn. You are already one of us."

But Evelyn was not one of them. She was alive, and she was determined to stay that way. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, ornate locket. Inside was a photograph of her and Emily, a reminder of the life she had left behind.

The Corpse Caterer's face twisted into a rage as Evelyn tossed the locket onto the table. "You cannot escape, Evelyn! You will dine with us forever!"

But Evelyn was already running, her heart pounding in her chest. She dashed through the inn's doors, the laughter of the spectral figures chasing her on the wind. She ran through the streets of Eldridge, the village that had once been her home now a place of horror and despair.

As she reached the edge of the village, Evelyn looked back. The inn's doors were swinging shut, the Corpse Caterer's face visible through the gap. She turned and kept running, her feet pounding the ground, her heart a drumbeat of hope and fear.

In the distance, she heard the sound of footsteps, the sound of pursuit. But Evelyn did not stop. She ran, and she ran, until she reached the edge of the forest. There, she collapsed, her breath coming in gasps, her body spent.

But as she lay there, exhausted, she looked up at the sky. The moon was still there, casting its eerie glow over the village. But something was different. The laughter of the spectral figures had stopped, the darkness of the village had lifted.

Evelyn opened her eyes and looked down at the photograph in her hand. It was a picture of her and Emily, smiling, happy. She had chosen the living, and she had won.

The Corpse Caterer's Last Supper had been her final test, and she had passed with flying colors. Evelyn had chosen life, and she would never look back.