The Coffin Makers Success

Doctor, lawyer, or soldier. These are all noble jobs, for people with far more bravery, or far more intelligence than Walter Casket. Walter Casket is not an extraordinary man by any means, and he knew it. He was tall, lean, and muscular. With the same graying blonde hair and skeletal appearance as his father Stefan Casket, who he was beginning to look more and more like in his old age. After his fathers death, Walter followed in his footsteps. Dedicatedly taking over the family business, making coffins. 

Walter knew he was skilled at his craft, but with business picking up recently, he found it difficult to stay on top of the workload. He grimaced as he was forced to create yet another sturdy, bland, pine box. As he secured the last nail in the literal coffin, he gave a long sigh. It was hard to believe he once enjoyed this profession. One he saw as noble in its own right. A last act of service for a family suffering loss. 

Walter remembered a time when he woke up, overjoyed by the woody smell of the shop that awaited him. Happily ready for another day's work. Now with so many bodies piling up, way more than the usual amount, the smell of rot from the morgue next door was starting to break through the smell of wood in his shop. And Walter wasn't able to create the beautiful works of art that he normally permitted to be buried. 

A coffin should be more than a resting place, thought Walter. It should be more than a box in the ground. A coffin should be as intricate and beautiful as a king's bed. No matter who the person is. 

As he got out the wood to prepare another pine box, already behind schedule, the doorbell jingled as someone walked into his front office. Walter tried to resist a sigh, knowing he was stretching his time very thin as is with his current workload. As he looked at the clock, his face twisted with grimace. It was nearly closing time, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. When people die, they need a place to sleep, and they don't pay much mind to how busy the coffin maker might be. 

As he walked out into his dimly candlelit office, standing there was a beautiful, tall young woman. She wore one of the fanciest black dresses Walter had ever seen, that matched her jet black waist length hair. The bottom of her dress fell down to touch the floor, perfectly outlining her curvy frame. Walter fought the urge to stare at her low cleavage, instead moving his eyes to meet hers, which glimmered like red rubies against her pale skin. 

“Are you Walter Casket?” The woman asked in one of the most angelic voices Walter had ever heard. It was deep for a woman, but musical in its tone. 

“Yes, what can I do for ya today?” Walter asked. He suddenly felt embarrassed by his appearance as he tried to brush the pine shavings off his apron. 

“I’ve heard that you can create the most beautiful coffins for miles around, is this true?”

“I ain’t one to brag, but I have created many fancy coffins in my time. Although now, without a wife or children to help around the shop, I’m much too busy to create such intricate works of art. I’m terribly sorry if you have lost someone close to you, but my hands are too full to create anything more than a wooden box at the moment.” 

“Ah, well have you thought about hiring an assistant?”

“I have, but I don’t typically charge much for my coffins. ‘Specially not in such a time of need. So I can’t be affording an assistant presently.” Walter confessed.

“Oh nonsense! Nonsense! I have a proposition for you Walter; you see I have heard from all the villages nearby that you make the most eloquently designed coffins in all the country, and I would like to buy one,” The woman said as she placed a bag onto the counter. As she opened it, Walter could see it was filled to the brim with cash. More cash than he had ever seen, or was ever likely to see in a lifetime. 

“Most eloquen..tly designed? I’m sorry, I don't know what that means. If that's to be a compliment, I don't know that I make the best in all the country. I’m just a small town coffin maker.”

“Nonsense! Complete and utter nonsense! I have traveled across the land to buy from you and I will not be refused Walter Casket.”

“Is the coffin for yourself? You seem a bit young for coffin shopping?”

“I come from a very noble family. As such, I would like to have my death arrangements made before I get too old and senile to make such decisions. Hire yourself an assistant to make the boxes for others. I want you to make my coffin special. If I am pleased with your work, I have many relatives who I am sure would be more than happy doing business with you.” 

“Other relatives?” Walter asked.

“Yes, other relatives. Our most recent coffin maker just passed; I’m sure you will be a fine replacement. When can I expect the finished product?”

“Well, if I can get an assistant to cover my work, the soonest you can expect it will be about two weeks. But typically, the family or person comes in to make few design decisions when necess-” 

“Two weeks then! I will see you when the time passes,” The woman interjected.

“Can I have a name for the order?” Walter asked.

“No you may not. I will see you in two weeks,” The woman said, before vanishing into thin air. 

Walter rushed out the door to see where she went, but all he saw was the dark and empty alley, and a few stray bats flying overhead. The beautiful woman with no name was nowhere in sight, and Walter couldn't stop the chill that creeped up his back. As he walked back into his shop, he wondered if this order was even worth fulfilling. But when he thought back to how bored he was making simple boxes, he couldn’t resist the idea of a commissioned masterpiece. 

The following day, Walter put out forms to apply for the position of his assistant. It wasn’t long before a stocky boy with bright green eyes and dark brown hair showed up on his doorstep. Walter knew his face. His name was Gunter, and he couldn’t be more than seventeen years old. He was the middle son of the woodsman, Karl. All the better, Walter thought, He already knows how to handle the materials. 

Completing the paperwork was easy enough, though the boy couldn't read so it was mostly completed by Walter himself. But despite his inability to read, Walter was thankful for his help around the workshop. Gunter was a short lad, albeit shy and quiet. But he had an honest heart and a kind soul. 

After a few days of patient training, Gunter was in the workshop nailing board to board, making the bland wooden boxes Walter hated so much. Meanwhile in the adjoining workshop, Walter faced hard decisions about the coffin he planned to make for his mysterious customer. Sturdy, beautiful mahogany would be best, Walter thought as he laid the boards onto the table. After completing the frame came more serious decisions. Such as what sort of finish to use, and which fabric to line the interior. As he was deep in thought, testing the colors in his brain, he heard the banging of nails stop from the other room.

As he turned, he saw Gunter standing in the doorway, looking fairly concerned. 

“What is it?” Walter asked.

“Is it true you're making that coffin for a mysterious customer?” Gunter asked.

“Yes, it was very strange. She wouldn't give me a name, but she was very beautiful. I wonder if she is single. I didn't see a ring on her finger,” Walter said, mumbling more to himself than to Gunter.

“You shouldn't trust her!” Gunter shouted.

“What? Why not?” Walter asked, taken aback by the usually quiet boy’s shouting. 

“Well for one, the townsfolk know nothing about her. But rumors have spread that she is only seen after a murder.”

“Well my boy, you know you shouldn’t listen to rumors. Told me she traveled across the land to be our customer, this ain’t no way to treat newcomers in our humble community,” Walter said as he waved off Gunter’s concerns.

“I seen her prowling around outside the shop, like a wolf hunting prey. Gives me a bad feeling, sir. A very bad feeling,” Gunter said. Awkwardly glancing between Walter and the coffin on the table. 

“You don’t need to worry about an old man like me, Gunter. I can take care of myself. Just focus on your work, and things will be fine,” Walter said.

Gunter gave him one last desperate look, before shuffling back to his work station. When his shift ended, he said nothing as he left the building, headed home before dark as always. But Walter was not that way. Walter always stayed in the shop past dark to get more work done. And he had all the more reason to now that his inspiration was back! 

As the two weeks went by, Gunter grew all the more uneasy, and Walter enjoyed his work so much more than he had before. He decided to stitch the padding of the coffin with the finest silk the woman's expenses could afford, and he felt a great sense of pride as he closed the lid to the golden trimmed mahogany coffin. It’s truly a work of art, Walter thought to himself. A resting place built for a queen. 

“Please reconsider sir,” Gunter said from the doorway again. He was dressed in his coat and had his bag on hand, clearly prepared to leave for the night.

“Reconsider what? The coffin is already made; she’s supposed to pick it up tonight.”

“Just leave it out front and go home. I think that would be the safest.”

“Leave it out front? Heavens no! Gunter, what’s gotten into you? This is easily the finest coffin I have ever created. I want to see her face when she looks at it for the first time.”

“She already paid you in advance, there ain’t no reason to stay.”

“Gunter, that's enough! I’m seein’ this order through and that's final! You're being too cautious, just go home and get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning,” Walter said. Growing increasingly weary of this pointless conversation.

“Just remember… People been disappearing at night lately. Promise you’ll be careful,” Gunter said anxiously. 

“If it puts your mind at ease, I promise I’ll be careful.” 

Gunter gave a small nod, and a last look of worry before heading out the door, and Walter let out a sigh of relief. There was really no need to be worrying so much. He would be staying in the shop, away from the dangerous streets. And there was no reason to mistrust this woman, for rumors were only rumors. 

As the door chimed again, Walter walked out to see her, dressed head to toe in a red ball gown tonight and holding a tall bottle of alcohol. 

“Well, is it finished?” She asked. 

“Right this way,” Walter said as he showed her to the workshop.

“Oh my, it's just beautiful! It’s the most wonderful coffin I’ve ever seen,” She said, her eyes practically sparkling at the sight of it. 

“I’ve lined it with silk, so it will be most comfortable for you in the afterlife,” Walter said, showcasing his work and opening the lid. 

“How very thoughtful! And it appears to be well padded too. This is truly a work of art, I am very thankful. And now, seeing your work, I have a proposition for you. How would you feel about making coffins for a family of high nobility? No more of these pathetic boxes that you currently surround yourself with.”

“Coffins for high nobility? Sounds like a dream come true. I haven't felt this inspired in ages,” Walter confessed. 

“Oh that's so wonderful to hear; everyone will be so pleased to know that you hold such passion for your work. This is cause for a celebration!” The woman said as she poured two glasses of wine. 

Walter took one absentmindedly. Feeling all the more proud now that he had seen such a positive reaction to his weeks of effort. His heart was racing, and he felt his cheeks pinken at her praise. 

“A toast! To your wonderful work, your inspiration, and your growing business,” the woman said, lifting her glass. 

“A toast!” Walter agreed. He put the cup to his lips and took only a few sips before pausing. This wine tasted metallic and salty. He turned back towards the coffin. Remembering what Gunter said, and the rumors about this woman. She was always seen after someone had died, and though he loathed to admit it, this drink did not taste like wine. Walter thought it might be imported for a moment, but as he turned to ask, the woman lunged at him. 

Walter backed up as quickly as he could, but she was already on top of him. As her teeth sunk into his neck, he desperately tried to push her off with no luck. He felt himself growing weaker, and his head growing more and more dizzy. Finally, the woman let go of him. 

“What… Did you do?” Walter asked.

“Why, I’ve merely expanded your business? You didn't think you would be making coffins here, in this humble shop in a run down village, did you? No no no. You’re going to be moving to the castle, where your workshop will be at least twice this size, and you can make beautiful coffins for the rest of time! I expect great things from you Walter. Truly great things!” 

Walters' head was spinning. He tried to comprehend her words as he lay on the floor soaking in his own blood. Making coffins forever? Walter thought. How will I do that if I bleed out on the dusty pinewood floor? I should have listened to Gunter. I can’t believe the rumors were true. He thought, as his world went black.