It was a crisp October night. Not quite freezing, but not too far off. The sound of dead leaves rhythmically crunch crunch crunching sounded out as a middle-aged man lazily strolled down a barren city street. He was heading to the neighborhood bar to meet his friends for some drinks.
The man hummed a half-remembered tune as he took in the sights around him, which were admittedly not much. Several trees with naked branches, a few streetlights, and two or three quiet little houses lined one side of the street. The other side had a seemingly endless stretch of fence running along it. The oldest cemetery in town.
As the man walked on, he noticed a section of fence where the chainlink had come unattached from the post, creating a hole just big enough to duck through. Teens up to shenanigans, no doubt. He stopped for a moment. If he could cut through the cemetery, he would likely save a whole lot of walking. And, at his age, he greatly appreciated any minor reprieve from physical exertion. But what if he got in trouble? Was it disrespectful to the buried? He rolled the options around in his mind, and came to the conclusion that getting in trouble only happens to people who get caught and the dead would understand.
The man ducked through the hole in the fence and started heading vaguely in the direction he thought would lead to the bar. As he got farther and farther from the street, it was harder to see where he was going. The streetlights could shine only so far. He continued on, though, doing his best not to trip on anything. But his best was only so good, and before he knew it, he took a hard tumble.
When the man opened his eyes, he knew he had made a big mistake. Even in the dim ambient light, he could make out four dirt walls surrounding him. He had fallen into a freshly dug grave.
He slowly stood up, brushed himself off, and got a better look at his situation. The grave appeared to be a little larger than the average grave. The top was roughly two feet above the man’s head. He tried climbing out over and over, but he couldn’t seem to get a good grip or foothold. The dirt was tightly packed and hard from the cold temperatures.
After several climbing attempts, the man resorted to shouting and hollering for help. He was smack-dab in the middle of the sprawling graveyard, but maybe his cries would be heard by a nightwatchman making his rounds, if such a person existed. He screamed and he wailed for half an hour with no sign that a single soul had heard him.
The man sat in the dirt, defeated. But then a head peeked over the edge of the grave. The man was so relieved, he felt on the verge of tears.
“Oh thank heavens,” said the man. “I’m sorry for trespassing, but if you could help me get out of this grave, I’d be so...”
The man’s speech trailed off. Clouds parted and moonlight covered the cemetery. He could now see he was not talking to a nightwatchman. The head had no eyes. In fact it appeared to be little more than a skull, with only bits of dried out skin and muscle here and there. The man was talking to a corpse. And the corpse talked back.
“...Are you not able to climb out...?” The corpse’s voice was barely a whisper and had the quality of air being let out of a tire.
The man thought he must either be having a nightmare or he was going mad. But he answered anyway.
“I tried and tried, but I can’t get a grip on this hard dirt to pull myself up!”
“...Hmm...” The corpse looked the man over. “...Your arms... Fingers too fat, too fleshy to dig into the soil... Could lend you my arms...”
“How... how do you mean?” asked the man.
“...My arms have withered over years... My fingers sharp and bony, no feeling... Good for hard dirt...”
“So you want me to grab your arms and use them as climbing tools?”
“...No... Not fair that way... We swap arms... Back to normal after...”
A shiver ran down the man’s spine as he contemplated what this old dead thing could be talking about. But he wanted more than anything to get the hell out of this hole.
“I don’t understand. How do we swap arms?”
“...Do not worry how... Say yes and it will be done...”
The man’s mouth was dry. He took a big gulp of nothing and gave his answer.
“I guess I’ve tried everything else. We can swap arms.”
The man instantly felt a difference. He looked down at his hands only to be greeted by bones and decaying, leathered flesh. He was speechless. Up above, the corpse wheezed with pleasure as it rubbed the man’s living hands over the ground.
“...How wonderful... To feel again... Grass between fingers...”
The man was immediately jealous of the joy the corpse was getting from his own two hands. He took the sharp bony hands he was given and easily dug into the dirt wall. He would climb out soon and then everything would be fine.
But when the man attempted to climb, he simply couldn’t pull himself any higher. The corpse heard the man’s struggles and once again looked down.
“...Hmm... Too heavy... Big problem...”
The man was pissed. “Oh, lovely! Give me back my arms and I’ll just wait until someone shows up in the morning.”
The corpse continued mindlessly rubbing the ground as it replied. “...Better solution... I give you this body... Very light...”
The man considered. He’d already done the arms. The corpse’s body did seem lightweight, like it could be blown away by a light breeze. Literally nothing but skin and bone. And then it’d back to normal as soon as he got out.
“Okay... Swap.”
And again there was an immediate change. The man looked down and all he could see was bone and rot. The smell was overpowering. ALL of it was overpowering. He placed the bony paws against his face. At least he still had his own face, with his own skin and his own hair. He wasn’t sure if that made the situation less horrifying, or more.
Up above, the corpse was again enjoying its new toys. It stomped around in the big fleshy body connected to its little rotting head. It took big deep breaths with the man’s lungs.
“...How wonderful... To move... to breathe...”
The only thing keeping the man sane was knowing that it would all be over as soon as he climbed out. He took this new, lightweight body and dug into the dirt wall again. He did feel lighter, but again when he tried to pull himself up, he could not. What few muscles still existed were clearly atrophied from years of being dead. The man was again on the verge of tears. The corpse looked down.
“...Hmm... Too weak... Also big problem...”
The corpse appeared to think for a moment, then spoke again.
“...Okay... You swap head... Then whole body out of hole... No more problem...”
The man immediately cheered up after hearing this. Why didn’t the corpse just do this to start with? Hell, this was probably the corpse’s grave to start with. That thing belonged down there. The man wiped his tears and gave the corpse a nod of approval.
Once more there was an immediate change. Up on the ground stood the man’s body, no longer adorned with any corpse parts, entirely free from the grave. Back to normal. It stomped around and took big breaths. It felt the textures of various tombstones and trees as it happily walked its way out of the cemetery.
And down in the grave stood a tiny, shriveled corpse. It tried to scream, but its voice was barely a whisper.
“...I’m still in here...”