LEVITY

SLEEPING BEAUTY

Rosalia Lombardo was born in 1918 in Palermo, Sicily. She died of pneumonia on December 6, 1920. Rosalia's father was sorely grieved upon her death, so he approached Dr. Alfredo Salafia, a noted embalmer, to preserve her.  Her body was one of the last corpses to be admitted to the Capuchin catacombs of Palermo in Sicily.

Thanks to Dr. Salafia's embalming techniques, the body has been well-preserved. X-rays of the body show that the organs are remarkably intact. The child appears as if she were only sleeping, hence receiving the name "Sleeping Beauty," though due to the discoloration that has become more pronounced in the years following her preservation, it is quite obvious she is deceased.

Rosalia Lombardo's body is kept in a small chapel at the end of the catacomb's tour and is encased in a glass covered coffin, placed on a marble pedestal.

YIKES

FATHER

CREEP

When I was about 4, I was sitting alone in the living room playing with marbles. One of them rolled under the couch, and I stuck my hand as far under as I could to find it. I couldn't find it, so I withdrew my hand... and a black, withered, feminine hand reached out from under the couch after me. I remember it clearly. I sat there, too young to really know how batshit insane this was, but I remember thinking to myself "this is not right." I sat there dumbfounded and watched it; it groped around, then withdrew. Then it emerged again, pushing some plastic wrappers at me, as if it was trying to give them to me. When I didn't take them, it withdrew again, taking the trash with it, and was gone.

I got up very calmly and walked to my mother in the kitchen, at the other side of the house, and told her, "Mommy, a hand just reached out from under the couch." She got an odd look on her face, of course, but I was a very quiet, obedient kid who did not tell stories. She told me that was impossible and walked back to the living room with me, and even reached her hands under the couch to show me there was nothing there. Later, my dad came home and lifted the couch, and all that was under there was my marbles, and some random trash.

For years, I discounted this as just a vivid dream I had had when I was a child; obviously I didn't believe it really happened. But years later, when I was like 18, I mentioned it to my mother in recollection. She surprised me by saying that, no, it actually happened; she remembered me coming to her that afternoon and telling her about the hand under the couch. She said it had disturbed her greatly, and was the reason they had thrown the couch out soon after, because she had bought the couch second hand, and the seller told her that an elderly black lady had died on it.

Story and image source unknown.

HEY, KNOW WHAT'S A REAL MOVIE?

HELPFUL GUARD

Being a night guard in a hospital is not so hard, except for the fact that sometimes you get so scared that you keep on imagining things. I tried to console myself that the weeping I heard was in my own head. 

But it wasn’t so easy.  

I finally got curious and went ahead to check. The weeping sound was increasing as I neared the operation theater. I went nearer, but didn’t find anything. I sighed and was about to retreat when I saw a small boy hiding behind a potted plant. He wasn’t wearing any clothes. I thought he was cold so I offered him my jacket. He took it.  

“What are you doing here at this hour? Did you get lost?”  

“I can't find my mother,” he said still crying.  

“Don’t cry,” I said and picked him up. “I will find you for her. Tell me the room number.”

“I don’t know the room, but I can show you where she is kept. Please take me.” 

He had stopped crying and I took him. He kept on giving me directions. I was amazed. He didn’t have a doubt where to go.  

We reached a room and he said that this was it. But to my surprise, it was the morgue.  

I took him in. I don’t know why, but the boy was so mesmerizing that I took him there without any second thoughts. 

He pointed towards a corpse cupboard numbered 453 and said, “please put me in there.” 

My mind was so numb I didn’t realize what I was doing. I pulled the cupboard. Inside it laid the beautiful, lifeless body of a woman. I put the boy in and closed the cupboard. 

"Thank you," he said.  

I was about to leave when I realized I had lost my mind. I quickly opened locker 453. But it was empty. No small boy, no female corpse. Only my jacket lay there. There was a patient profile beneath that. 

It read: 

Anna Adams: Died of heart attack when she heard the death of her son during operation. 

Below that was the picture of her son. Alex Adams.  

The same boy was smiling at me from the photo.