Frederick Anderson's Necrophilia

Necrophilia - the absurd sexual attraction or desire towards dead bodies. Oh yes, you certainly did read the first sentence accurately. Strange, isn't it? No ordinary man in their right mind would ever consider the decaying flesh of a lifeless corpse as being sexually equivalent to a young, lively and beautiful woman. But one had not met the very unordinary Frederick Anderson yet.

Frederick Anderson was a simple man who always saw himself as “normal.” Normality is a fascinating concept. Being diverse and not obeying society’s rules of conformity produces an odd individual. Discovering this peculiar state of normal again then becomes their sole purpose in life so they would not be looked upon as an outcast in this delicate society. Strangely
Frederick Anderson could not go back to finding the pleasure he needed from the living. The living was pathetic to him; it was the dead that invoked him beyond words. The rotting, cold and decaying flesh of a dead being - that is what would finally satisfy him.

To indulge in his pleasure and “hobby” may I say, he began to visit old cemeteries at night to release the hidden maniac in him and every single day he would go back to living his “normal life.” This revolting cycle repeated each day for exactly a month and he had never been more content - then it all changed oh so quickly.

Reminiscing on that night is something that would never escape my memory as I still clearly remember the eerie darkness of it. It was as if a pitch-black curtain had draped the sky. I have embraced many that came to my doorstep amid a similar time as this. Although to Frederick Anderson, this weather was perfect for his, um… deeds. Approaching the cemetery caused an unfamiliar feeling of hesitation to paralyse him, yet it was shaken off within less than a second as a form of stupidity. If only he knew what was coming for him. Wandering through the gravestones in the cemetery made Frederick feel like a child in a candy store - there were just so many possibilities to choose from. Finally, the decision of whom his prey would be on this forsaken night was
“Beloved wife and daughter, passed away during 2017” as stated upon her tombstone. Young and freshly deceased, it did not get much better than that for him as he began to dig. How wisely he proceeded, with what caution, with what foresight, with what dissimulation he worked. Minutes quickly turned into hours as he ultimately reached the amber casket. As hard as it is to believe, this is where it all became even more bizarre.

Just as Frederick Anderson’s hand was reaching to open the casket, he heard something that was distinct to the autumn leaves rustling in the trees around him. Almost as if the piercing shrill of a child had been combined with the whimper of a dog. Nonetheless, it was more than enough to take Frederick Anderson completely aback when he realised where this unknown noise was coming from.

Could it merely have been the noise of a curious spectator around him? This question replayed through his frightened mind but then he realised the reality of the situation. This wasn’t just any typical observant human near him but the noise was coming from inside the very casket of the poor woman he had just dug up. Once that fact hit him, a half smile slowly crept onto his face. I had never seen such an eccentric reaction from a human before. It was at this very moment where Frederick Anderson slowly opened the casket in front of him, not knowing what awaited him inside of