Jagdish had never imagined he would end up working in a morgue. But when his childhood friend convinced him to leave the village for better earnings in the city, it felt like the right choice. Money was tight at home, and Jagdish needed a job—any job.
His friend arranged a night-watchman position for him. The salary was surprisingly good.
The only catch: the job was at the city morgue, and his shift was from 9 PM to 7 AM.
Jagdish didn’t believe in superstitions, so he accepted.
The Warning
On his first day, Jagdish met the elderly morning-shift guard.
“You’re the new boy, right?” the old man squinted. “You look barely eighteen.”
“Yes, Sir. Times are tough at home, so I came here for work,” Jagdish replied politely.
The old guard nodded but leaned in with a grave warning.
“Your duty is outside the morgue. No matter what you hear, do not go inside—especially after midnight. Doctors and staff work there… sometimes odd noises come. That is none of your concern.”
Jagdish found the warning strange but shrugged it off as superstition. He put on his uniform and began his shift.
The First Night
At 10 PM sharp, the doctors and compounders locked up and left.
The morgue fell into a heavy, unsettling silence.
Then—
CLANG! CLANG!
Something struck the metal lockers from inside.
Startled, Jagdish grabbed his watchman’s stick and rushed inside, forgetting the old man’s warning.
The lights flickered on. Cold air swept across the room.
Inside the massive freezer lockers lay rows of corpses—some freshly stored, some horrifyingly decomposed. One particular body was so rotten and grotesque that Jagdish gagged and stumbled out of the room.
Now he understood why he wasn’t supposed to enter.
Midnight
Exactly at 12 AM, Jagdish, half-asleep, heard the noise again.
This time he didn’t enter.
He peeked through the window instead.
A man was opening the corpse lockers—one after another.
“Hey! Who are you?” Jagdish shouted.
The man didn’t respond. He kept rummaging through the bodies.
Panicking, Jagdish ran inside and grabbed him by the collar.
The figure turned around.
It was the same decomposed corpse from earlier.
Its skin hung from its skull. Its lips were torn. Its eyes dripped dark fluid.
And yet—it smiled.
Jagdish screamed and ran into the surgery room, locking the door from inside. With trembling hands, he called his friend.
“Help me! They’re going to kill me! Please!”
His friend tried calming him down, promising to come immediately.
But before Jagdish could breathe, someone knocked violently on the door.
He shut his ears… but slowly sensed someone behind him.
The rotten corpse was sitting in the corner, smiling.
The Dead Awaken
Jagdish bolted out of the room.
But the hallway ahead froze his blood.
All the corpses had come out of their lockers.
Every single one.
They moved slowly, circling him like predators.
Moments later, his friend arrived—but the creatures dragged him inside too.
The next morning, when staff reported for duty, the morgue was silent again. Except for one thing:
Inside a locker lay two new bodies—
Jagdish
and his friend—dismembered.
The elderly guard muttered, “I warned the boy… but kids these days never listen.”
The Older Story — Manoj and the Organ Mafia
The old man then revealed a secret.
Years ago, he had a partner named Manoj. Both worked night shifts together.
One night, Manoj heard strange noises and went inside.
He saw doctors performing a post-mortem in the middle of the night—on a person who was very much alive.
Soon after, a luxury car arrived. A wealthy man—owner of a famous hospital—walked in.
Manoj overheard a horrifying conversation.
The doctors were running an organ trafficking racket.
They admitted healthy patients, claimed they had fatal illnesses, and “accidentally” killed them during surgery. Their organs were sold to rich clients.
Manoj wanted to report everything to the police.
But the old guard begged him not to.
“These people are powerful. We’ll lose our jobs… or worse.”
Manoj agreed—but fate had already sealed his doom.
The next night, Manoj went missing.
When the old man finally found him, Manoj was lying tied in the surgery room, half-alive.
The doctor entered, pretending to cry, begging Manoj for his blood sample to save his daughter. Manoj agreed out of kindness.
But once he gave his blood, they struck him on the head.
When he woke up, his kidney had been removed.
The doctor said coldly,
“He’s just a watchman—but he’s human. Every human is useful.”
They planned to remove his second kidney the next day.
As he bled out, Manoj whispered to the old guard:
“I curse this morgue…
Here, every night they turn living people into the dead.
So every night, the dead will rise—
and no living soul will leave alive.”
Manoj died.
And that was the beginning of the curse.
The Endless Curse
Now, whenever a new night watchman joins, the same fate repeats.
The police questioned the old guard many times, but nothing could be proven.
When asked why he still works there, he only smiles eerily.
“Alone? I’m never alone.
My friend Manoj is always with me.
And so are all the others…”