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Lucky Thirteen
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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Flashy-Experience181 on 2026-08-10 10:07:09+00:00.


On my way to work, I kept replaying Saturday night in my head. My brother had actually proposed to Mel. No one expected it. Absolutely no one. Mom was crying, Dad was beaming with pride, and Jane and I were genuinely smiling. We had never wanted to get married, and our parents knew that, which made this even more special for them. When we had all congratulated them and were about to raise our glasses, another piece of news came. Mel smiled, pulled three envelopes out of her purse, and handed one to each of us. They were ultrasound pictures. She was pregnant, and Wayett? I swear I'd never seen him so moved in all those years.

Before I even realized it, I was standing in front of a small building. The newly painted black doors reflected in my eyes, and above them was a sign: “We’ll take care of your loved ones even after death.” It’s true that my job was another thing my parents had a hard time accepting. Working with the dead and in a morgue was a tough thing for conservative people like my parents to swallow. Thank God they had Wayett after me. With a smile, I waved the thought away and walked inside.

I greeted our receptionist, Susan, and she told me, “You got the unlucky thirteen today. There are four people in there. Three from car accidents and one from a heart attack. You shouldn’t have too much work with them.”

“Lucky thirteen, Sus,” I joked, taking the key.

I walked down the long hallway until I reached the end and went inside. I automatically locked the door, put my things down by the little table, and walked over to the first gurney, where the body of a man was lying. I started washing his body when suddenly I heard something calling my name in a raspy voice.

“Wiiill…”

I looked around, but there was no one there. Great. I must be hearing things. Time to take a hit. The managers know that sometimes my coworkers and I smoke, but they quietly tolerate it. My stress slowly drifted away, and I could get back to work. Then I heard it again.

“Wiiil…”

I looked at the second gurney, and the sheet slowly began to slide down. I froze in place, only able to feel my heart pounding. I could hear it in my ears and feel sweat running down my back. I wanted to scream, move, do anything, but I simply couldn't. I saw the hands appear first. Those fingernails. That ring. The things I should have put together, but in that moment, I couldn't. It was as if my mind didn't want to understand. But when the sheet finally slid all the way down, I saw her.

Jane.

My Jane.

The entire left side of her face was horribly deformed. Her eye was hanging from its socket, and something was running down her forehead. A piece of her brain had been forced out through her shattered skull. She slowly began to rise from the gurney. “Wiill... You promisssed me you'd alwayss protect me. You promisssed you'd never leave me alone. And now I wass alone, Wiiill, and I don't want to be anymore.”

She started moving toward me, and I finally regained feeling in my muscles. I slowly backed away from her. I couldn't speak. We slowly circled the room. One of her legs was broken, and she could barely put any weight on it. Then she collapsed to the floor and started moving toward me on her knees at a frightening speed. I sped up too. I ran around, passing the gurney she'd been lying on moments before, making my way toward the door. Suddenly, my foot slipped. I slipped on blood. Her blood. I quickly got back up, shoved the gurney toward her with all my strength, and it knocked her back, slowing her down a little. I reached for the door handle and tried to open it, but it was locked.

I was an idiot and had locked the door, leaving the keys in my backpack, which was on the other side of the room. She was almost on top of me now. Then a sharp pain shot through my body behind my breastbone. I collapsed to the floor, and she grabbed my hand. Her touch burned as if someone had pressed a glowing coal directly against my skin. I heard her voice one last time. “Don’t be afraid, Wiill. We’ll be together sssoon.” After that, I don’t remember anything. I only know that everything went dark, and then I woke up in a hospital.

My brother was sitting beside my bed. When I opened my eyes, I saw the relief on his face. I started blurting out one sentence after another, trying to tell him what had happened to me. That Jane had been there and that she had probably tried to kill me. That I hadn't protected her. My brother called the doctor, who came running in and gave me something to calm me down.

They sent a psychologist named Jimmy to talk to me. He went over everything with me in detail. And what was the conclusion? That I had been under the influence of drugs and had gone through a terrible shock. Seeing Jane in the state she was in, combined with the weed, had caused severe hallucinations and triggered a heart attack. Apparently, it wasn't surprising. Anyone would have broken down. No one believed me. I had to agree with Jimmy's version because he told me that if I kept insisting on my story, they might have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. But I knew what I'd experienced. And every time I allowed myself to believe that maybe it had only been a dream, I looked at my hand and saw the burn in the shape of fingers.

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