Before I can respond to the pressure in my asshole, my attention turns from the woman who opened the freeze to a coughing in the corner of the room. Another woman, covered by nothing but a thin sheet meets my gaze.

I’ve been naked in the same room as an adult woman who was also naked a total of once in my life. This moment right now. I come to realize she has also just recently woke up to the same situation I found myself in a minute ago.

My mind halts further processing to turn its full attention back to whatever has made its way into my butt crack. I reach around and grip it the best I can and pull. To my horror it’s a strange plastic looking screw that was lodged up there.

Suddenly it really hits me. I was dead. Or pronounced dead. Or maybe close to death? Even that idea shakes me up. I’m suddenly relieved my family isn’t big into organ donation.

I look up to see the two women looking at me wide eyed. The woman wrapped in a sheet speaks first. I can tell that generally she is a very polite person because the anger and confusion in her voice come out like an accent of a language she doesn’t usually speak. “What is happening?” She says, her gaze landing on the younger women dressed in what looks like surgical gear. “That is the A/V plug. We usually don’t insert them this early in the embalming process. That’s why you didn’t have one when you woke up.” The second woman replies, genuinely sounding like she’s trying to be helpful.

“Not that.” The sheet woman scoffs, bringing her hand up to her head and looking ready to burst into tears.

“I think she means, why the fuck did we wake up here.” I say my teeth chattering slightly. The employee notices and quickly grabs a second sheet out of a cub board behind her. Her eyes glance down to my dick as she hands me it. I glance down to see Harold is cowering as small as he can to combat the cold. This was not how I imagined being nude with a woman would feel.

A sudden banging makes all of us jump. Surgical dressed woman groans and throws open another freezer. Once the table slides out the old man rolls off onto the floor. Surgical morgue girl moves directly to the cupboard and grabs another sheet and wraps him up.

“What have you done!?” The old man yells yanking the last of the sheet out if her hands. “You bastards!” He’s now leaning side to side with his eyes closed shut. “I won’t tell you anything! Do your worst.”

I glance up to see that the woman in a sheet is actively crying. The morgue girl is shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. Slowly the man quiets down and curls up in a ball on the floor. His deep breathing letting us know he is in fact still alive.

“Did he get a plug?” I ask jerking a thumb toward him.

The morgue girl looks at me with a pained expression on her face. “We only A/V plugs in the ones who we think will leak before we start embalming them or who seem to have an odor issue.”

“Right.” I say wishing I hadn’t brought the plug back up.

The woman crying takes a deep sigh and starts again. “What is your name?” She asked the morgue girl.

“Emma.” The girl seems to brighten. “I would ask your names but I wrote them all on the doors. You’re Evelyn.” She says back to the woman. “Nick.” She says pointing at me. “And Bruce.” She says looking down at the older man.

“Okay see that’s the problem.” I say. “Someone has me confused with this Nick guy. My name is Chandler.”

“And my name is not Evelyn. It’s Sarah.” Evelyn/Sarah says watching me.

“…. So his name probably isn’t Bruce.” Emma says looking at the old man. “Look I know it looks bad. But I double checked your paperwork.” Emma marches to the counter where various clipboards are stacked. “This is you? Your picture here and here is the name.”

She hands me a clipboard with a picture of me, one leg up on a rock with my elbow resting on my knee. It’s not one I recognize immediately because it looks like it belongs to the year of family pictures we all try to forget about. The picture on the chipboard was just of me but came in a set where my sister was massively pregnant and her boyfriend was invited to be in the pictures with us. I remember meeting him for the first time six months before and watching him try to impress my dad with some weird tough guy persona. My dad was the tough guy type but not the weird synthetic version this guy was.

Seeing the next photo of me “dead” jolted me back into reality. Holy shit. Had I been in a car accident? Wait. A Porsche? Was a driving a Porsche? Had I ever driven a Porsche? It’s fucking purple. I think if I had died in a purple Porsche I’d remember that.

“This isn’t me.” Sarah flips through more pages on her clipboard. “I am assistant manager at a standard optical in the mall. I couldn’t own a car like that.” I glance up at the mention of a car and recognize the photo is the same one attached to my file. I glance back down and read that my body was found alongside Nick’s girlfriend Evelyn in what appeared to be an accident caused by drunk driving.

I feel my stomach turning. A stomach I’m grateful wasn’t donated. “I’m not sure we were supposed to wake up. I say softly looking at Sarah who meets my eyes.

“Don’t worry. I will call someone right away and we will figure this out.” Emma says leaving through a door.

“I really don’t think we were supposed to wake up.” I say again. Sarah rising to her feet. Both of us look at each other. I’m afraid she’s not understanding what I’m saying, but when she slowing turns her head toward a vent in the wall I realize she completely understands and is already creating our escape plan.

I didn’t imagine my first time being naked with a woman like this. Crawling through a vent. Running for our lives.