The Sinister Mr. Corpse Read Online Free PDF

you can press the button. It's good to see you again, sir.
Things will be fine. You'll see."
    "Uh-huh."
    "Really."
    "Whatever."
    Martin looked as if he wanted to give Stanley
a hug, but then changed his mind and left.
    Stanley drank the entire glass of water in
one gulp, except for what dribbled out of a small hole in his lower
lip. He set the glass on the nightstand and then lay back down on
the bed and closed his eyes. He'd never had a waterbed before. It
was kind of nice. And the pink blanket was undeniably soft and
comfortable. Maybe Martin was right. Maybe things wouldn't be so
bad.
    He lay there silently for a long while, and
then fell asleep.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
     
    Stanley woke up feeling...good. At least in a
physical sense. There was no trace of the pain from before, and no
wave of dizziness when he got out of bed. He almost felt like doing
some jumping jacks, but still wasn't entirely convinced that useful
bits of flesh wouldn't fly off in the process.
    "Ah, I'm glad to see you're up," said Brant,
entering the room.
    "Uh-huh, I'm sure you just happened to walk
in here right as I got out of bed."
    Brant smiled. "Well, of course we're
monitoring you. You're a scientific phenomenon."
    "Yeah, well, knock next time, asshole."
    "We really do have to do something about that
mouth of yours. Perhaps a swear jar is in order."
    "Sure. Every time I say 'fuck' I'll drop a
finger in it."
    "No need to be morbid." Brant walked across
the room and opened the closet door. "Some of these are your own
clothes, and some are new. Put on whatever you'd like."
    "Aren't you going to dress me?"
    "Maybe later." He opened another door. "You
have your own private bathroom, of course, with a shower. The cast
is completely waterproof. Your, ah, scent should fade in a day or
so, but until then you're welcome to be generous with the cologne
you'll find in the medicine cabinet."
    "Thanks."
    "So, get ready, and then we'll head down for
breakfast. You haven't eaten anything except intravenous fluids for
two months, so I assume you're hungry."
    "Yeah, I had myself a hankering for some
brrrraaaaaaaains."
    "Very amusing. Anyway, enjoy your shower, and
I'll be back to walk you downstairs."
    "Is it, y'know, safe?" Stanley asked.
    "Is what safe?"
    "The shower."
    "Oh, certainly. Make it as hot as you'd like.
We gave you your injection about three hours ago, so there's no
danger of you going down the drain."
    After Brant left, Stanley walked into the
bathroom, stumbling a couple of times because of the cast. He
opened the medicine cabinet and quickly scanned the contents.
Nothing that could be used as a weapon, but he did have a nice
large box of Q-Tips. He wondered how much earwax a living corpse
produced.
    He turned on the water. He stared in the
mirror for a long moment, still horrified by his almost skeletal
face. More importantly, though, he was really dreading what he
might see when he removed his boxer shorts.
    Please, all deities within hearing range, I
beg of you, don't let me have a decomposed dick. Just spare me that
one appendage and I'll be your slave for all eternity.
    He stripped off his boxers. The most positive
thing he could say about his penis was that it was still
attached.
    It wasn't like he'd ever be getting laid
again anyway, but the process of decomposition could've been kind
enough to spare his dick. Would that really have been so much to
ask?
    Stanley flipped up the toilet lid and took a
long piss, terrified that he might spring a leak and hit himself in
the eye. But at least his equipment seemed to be functioning
fine.
    He got in the shower. The hot water felt
wonderful against his skin. He lathered himself up, tentatively at
first, but Brant seemed to be right, no flesh was detaching. He
stayed in there for about fifteen minutes, until the hot water ran
out while he still had shampoo in his hair. He cursed and rinsed it
out in the cold water, then grabbed a towel and dried himself
off.
    He brushed his teeth, trying not to gag