3a.m. Funeral

So here is the full story from begining to end

3 a.m. Funeral

“It was 3 a.m. and the phone was ringing, as I picked the damn thing up and looked at the caller ID, Rabbie. What the hell did my erratic sarcastic best friend want at 3 in the bloody morning?

“Hi Fael, its Rabbie, how are you”

Fael, that’s me, short for Faelan, or Fáelán if you want to be posh, you can thank my Irish parents for that one

“Dude what do you want at fricking 3 a.m., can I not sleep anymore?”

“Fael I’m in some crap, I mean real deep in a whole load of real bad crap. I need some help man, meet me on the old field down by the canal. Oh yeah and bring a shovel.” Then he hung up.

“Damn that Scottish son of a…” I started mumbling to myself as I got dressed ready for whatever daft crap Rabbie needed me to dig him out of. I stood for a couple of minutes combing my hair from my eyes. In the mirror I saw a skinny 18 year old of 6 foot nothing with ginger hair down to his armpits and the most washed out grey eyes ever, I mean they’re almost white themselves, wearing a plain grey T and baggy jeans ripped in goodness knows how many places. Once my hair was brush straight I grabbed the shovel from the garage and started the 10 minute walk to the old field.

“Damn it Rabbie, what do you want?”

I said as soon as I saw the scruffy 5 foot 4 Scotsman. I was pissed off, it was 20 past 3 in the morning and it had started raining when I left the house. I was tired and I was soaking so I think I had a good enough reason for being pissed off.

“Fael, I’m in some real deep crap. I need your help man. I was walking home from the pub and some bloke started following me across the field. Man I was drunk and scared so I turned round and cracked him one over the head with a bottle, he just collapsed, I checked his pulse and he didn’t have one, he’s stone dead man.”

“So? Call the damn police Rabbie, why did you phone me?”

“I can’t call the police Fael, I’d go to jail and fail my med course, and I’d never be a GP. You’re doing a forensics course aren’t you; you know how to hide a body so it won’t be found. Please help me Fael, I’ll owe you big time man, I’ll even put in a good word with Faith for you.”

The beautiful Faith, I’d been infatuated with her since year 9 yet she never seemed to care for me, Rabbie’s sister dated Faith’s brother so he and her knew each other pretty well so I knew he could do it for me. Rabbie knew he had me hooked and just grabbed my arm and pulled me towards a copse of trees, and right to the body.

“Bloody hell Rabbie!” I said as I saw the corpse “You’re damn right we can’t go to the police. You know who this is?” Rabbie shook his head. “This is Kael of the Ultan.”

The Ultan were an ex-IRA paramilitary group who didn’t put down their arms with the rest of the IRA. Kael was their best hit man.

“You mean The Kael of The Ultan, the most wanted man in the UK?” Rabbie said like an idiot. “No I mean Kael the childminder. Of course I mean The Kael you Muppet! Right calm head Fael keep calm, what we need to do is dig a proper grave, 6 foot deep, that way he definitely won’t be dug up by accident. Put your jacket on the grass.”

“What, why? I like this jacket.”

“Because 1, I don’t have a jacket and 2, this is your bloody mess I’m cleaning up. I’m going to put the soil onto your jacket so that it doesn’t leave a tell tale mark on the grass.” I snapped at him. With that he quickly took off his jacket and put it down on the ground. I carefully cut a patch of grass away so I could hide the hole when we were done and began digging a grave for a 3a.m. funeral.

“….Requiescant in pace.” I said as I finally replaced the turf.

“Sounds like you’re off Assassin’s Creed Fael.” Rabbie said jokingly. The stupid git never could read my moods.

“Rabbie shut the hell up! It’s 6.30 a.m. I’ve spent the last 3 hours digging a fricking grave to cover up your crap, I have a lecture at 8, I try and give this man as close to a proper Catholic burial as possible and you just take the piss. Grow up Rabbie!” I snarled at him as I picked up my shovel and started to walk home

By half seven I’d finally gotten the last mud off me and off the shower. I quickly got changed into my “smart” clothes – the least ripped pair of jeans I own and a plain black T. I shoved my grave digging clothes into the washer, grabbed my bag and keys and started to run for my lecture.

When I got to the lecture I went to my usual seat – being left handed means you can get used to having the same seat all the time – loads of left handed seats and not many lefties. To my surprise Faith deigned to sit next to me. The beautiful, raven, hip length haired, Faith, the person with eyes like sapphires and a beautiful full mouth, decided to sit next to me.

“Hiya Fael how’s you? Rabbie said I should get to know you some time, and that you’re good friend to have in a tight spot. So I thought I’d take his advice. By the way, do you know what’s wrong with Rabbie? He seemed a bit off this morning.” Her perfect Irish lilt had me mesmerised instantly, and I’m Irish.

“Hi Faith, I’m fine thanks, and you? Did Rabbie really say that about me? I dunno what’s wrong with him, I haven’t seen him this morning so I didn’t even know he was acting weird.” I’m amazed I kept my head so well.

“I’m good Fael thanks. You know, you’re a terrible liar Fael, you knew Rabbie would say that about you to me. You also know what’s wrong with him, and you’re going to tell me at dinner tonight at mine.” With that in my mind the lecture was a bit blurred, my mind was elsewhere.

“I opened my door and then you grabbed me. And the rest you know.”” Fael said to the leader of the Ultan. He was drinking Fael’s coffee, sat in Fael’s chair in Fael’s kitchen, and he had a big knife in his lap.

“It’s a good story lad, and a true one at that. The girl’s right y’know, you would make a terrible liar. Sorry fer making ye miss yer date lad, I’d’ve come round fer our little chat another time, I hate getting in the way of love, but I did nay know ye were going to go on a date. But who knows, ye may still be able to make it after we finish here. Now please put yer right hand on the table lad.”

Fael obliged, he had little choice. “Now then lad, I like ye, but we can’t have people crossing the Ultan without any recompense, it’d be bad for our image y’see. Ye’re lucky yer mate is Scottish otherwise I’d’ve been much harsher with ye fer betraying yer country to the English scum.”With that he picked up his knife and rammed it into Fael’s ring finger, severing it at the knuckle. He then grabbed Fael’s hand and put the bloody stump onto the hot stove, cauterising the wound almost instantly.

“Sorry fer that lad, but needs must y’see. At least ye’ve still got the rest of yer hand, unlike Rabbie will soon. Goodbye lad, and good luck with yer woman.” With that he got up, drained the last of his coffee and walked out, he even kept Fael’s severed finger. Throughout it all Fael just stared at the gap that was his ring finger not long before.

“Fáelán O’Rourke, you open this door NOW!” Shouted Faith after nearly breaking Fael’s door knocking.

“Oh my word, what happened to you, you poor thing?” Her tone changed instantly as Fael opened the door, it was 10 minutes after his finger had been chopped off and his hand was still a mess. Faith ran quickly into the kitchen and came back with a damp dish cloth. She started cleaning the blood off Fael’s hand and tried to sooth the burned stub at the same time.

“What happened to you? I thought you’d stood me up, so I came to find you, but you’re, well you’re like this, what happened?” She was going into hysterics and had slipped into Gaelic while she spoke. Fael just stopped her and explained everything.

“Oh you poor thing, you poor poor thing. I’ll have Rabbie’s head for this, for dragging you into all this stuff.” Faith started up again as soon as Fael finished speaking. Again Fael stopped her and said, “Don’t, he got you speaking to me didn’t he? Seems a damn good friend to me.” Fael then kissed her and promptly fainted. The shock had worn off and the pain had kicked in.

Hope you enjoyed it, feel free to comment.

The Lonely Recluse.


2 Responses to “3a.m. Funeral”

  1. thats brilliant your a good writer xxjen

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