Successful Families have Good Ghouls

Caution: A bit of foul language is used in this story.

The silence at the table was deafening and awkward. My brothers and sisters just glanced around at one another, waiting for the banshee to start. Cynnth was doing everything he could to hide his laughter while sneaking looks at me, then at our mother. "No! Absolutely not! Have you gone MAD?" my mother screeched at me, her eyes wide in horror and disbelief. "Nobody's allowed to just leave this family like that, Cedric. Nobody! We built this business and this family around all of us helping," my mother added sharply, narrowing her eyes at me. I knew this was going to happen, though, I had expected a fight before I arrived. I calmly put my napkin down next to my plate and looked at her with hooded eyes. This was a fool's attempt at convincing her that my heart wasn't pounding in my chest like a fucking jackrabbit on steroids, which I'm sure somehow, she already knew. "Mother, you have plenty of people here to run the next generation," I said, nodding towards my siblings around the dinner table. "You KNOW that isn't the only problem, Cedric, we stay together for safety. Going out on your own means you will be hunted down and killed. You are not leaving," she hissed at me. If she could spit venom, she probably would have. I sighed, looking at the meal in the center of the table. Some poor soul's half-rotted head sat on a platter, pieces of his decaying flesh having been scooped out for individual servings. I think his name had been Robert, but he didn't look the same after having been braised in an oven for 3 hours. Luckily his family had opted for a closed casket viewing and burial, allowing us to have a feast like this. I rolled my eyes and glared at my mother, and she simply glared back at me as conversation around the table resumed. 

I guess I should back up and explain a bit more as to how I ended up in this situation.

I finished wrapping the meat up in butcher paper, tied the twine around it in a knot, and set it in the walk-in freezer with the rest of the meat. I walked over to the handwash station and cleaned all evidence of my profession from my hands. Blood does a funny thing when it goes down the drain - it doesn't just flow, like water. It's very viscous, so it sort of dredges along the bottom, like the water is coaxing it along to fall reluctantly down the drain. My eyes traced the rusty descent while my brain wandered. We had a family dinner tonight, and while those almost always had their share of drama, tonight's was going to be on a whole new level. Mother didn't like it when people didn't do what she said, but at some point, every person has to strike out on their own, right? While my brain was occupied playing out all the worst case scenarios that would happen tonight, the phone began ringing. Taking a deep breath and pulling myself out of my thoughts, I went to answer the loud intruder.

"Yes, hello? Bardin Mortuary Services, this is Cedric," I said, donning my business airs. It didn't matter how much my brain was in turmoil, I still had to run a business. "Yes, of course, your dear son will be ready for viewing by tomorrow afternoon, is that soon enough?" I said pleasantly into the mouthpiece. The caller confirmed everything with me, and I hung up, and glanced over at her son on my table. His main body cavity was still open but that didn't take very long to correct. I could easily sew that up after dinner tonight and focus on the makeup afterwards. I dried my hands off, removed my mask and apron and placed all my tools into a sterilization bucket. I pushed the body back into the freezing cabinet it had called home before I cut into it, and closed and locked it inside. I sighed, looking around the large area fondly, as if trying to commit it to memory. This was where a lot of firsts in my life had happened, this place was very much like a second home to me. I didn't want to forget where I came from; I wanted to forge ahead and make my own path in life. I threw my hand over the light switches, bathing the place in darkness and then locked the door behind me as I stepped outside. 

A few hours later, I found myself entering my parents home. The vast hallways and intimidating foyer didn't do anything to rid visitors of an ominous feeling gnawing in the pit of their stomach. Growing up with them, I can confirm that feeling never fully goes away. I handed my coat to the butler and he groaned at me and began shuffling away, presumably to the coat closet. I smiled, shaking my head. My parents still employed zombies as house staff, even though recent politics had been pushing to free them or at least pay them adequately. Unbuttoning my sleeve cuffs and rolling my sleeves up, I made my way toward the dining room where I saw my mother sitting and sipping on a glass of red wine. Money had been good to us, although we didn't technically need it. Our food came from graves that had long been buried - normally, anyways. I smiled and kissed my mother on the forehead, and threw my arm around my dad in a side hug. A few of my siblings had already arrived and I went into the kitchen to get myself a glass of wine. My brother Cynnth was already in there, attempting to talk to the chef. The chef - a woman previously named Amanda - now shuffled around the kitchen, drooling into our meal as she pulled a bloke's head out of the oven. Roasted flesh was one of my favorite meals, but covered in zombie drool didn't make it appetizing. I reached over and pulled the pan a few inches away from her so she could drool freely on the countertop, and she nodded to me in thanks. 

"Cedric, hey - are you going to tell them tonight?" Cynnth asked me in a low voice as he got very close to my face. His glass swished and sloshed and he had a funny smile on. I smiled back. "Yes, I'm telling them tonight, I'm done with it all, I need to go out on my own," I said to him in a low voice. "But you're the only one in the family who knows about it, so keep it down, yeah? Or I might have to take you with me," I said to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He nodded. "Of course, yeah, I just wish you'd stay, brother. I wish I could leave too, but mother would just DIE," he said, adding emphasis to the last word. I laughed. Our mother was known in the monster community for having a dramatic flair - it made her successful in business but irritated the people that had to live with it. Unfortunately, it made talking with her about anything a virtually impossible task - if you couldn't tell already.

Either way, I was leaving home to strike out on my own - come hell or high water.