Unwanted Donation (Part Two)

When you got your driver's license in the 1930’s, there was no box to check stating if you wanted your organs or body donated to science after you passed away. Your generosity was decided for you. On some occasions, your loved ones would unknowingly be grieving over an empty coffin while your body was being illegally sold. The purchasers were either perverts or Universities. What the perverts did with your body will be left to the imagination. Universities however depended on the work of grave robbers to supply them with the specimens needed for their syllabus.

The fall semester of 1931 students at Boston University used Edith Yarn’s cadaver for research and educational purposes. First year medical students gathered in the gross anatomy lab and dissected her entire body over a period of nine days. Edith did not approve.

 

Within one week of discarding of Edith’s disassembled body, the four students who were assigned to her cadaver reported unexplainable incidents with the young woman they had recently dissected.

Beverly Young sat in the fourth stall of the girls’ third floor lavatory. She had decided to tempt fate with her lactose intolerance at lunch earlier that day and after losing the gamble had spent half of her biology class in the restroom. She sat with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, eyes closed and regretting every sip of that milkshake.

“Every damn time,” she thought to herself.

She had just opened her eyes when suddenly, on the other side of the stall door, stood a pair of blood drenched bare feet with red nail polish. The pain in Beverly’s bowels completely vanished at that moment. She looked up. The stall door knob slowly began to turn and Beverly could hear the blood of her heart beat flowing through her eardrums.

The door opened. Just two feet in front of her stood a decayed Edith Yarn, eyes wide, drenched in her own blood. Beverly recognized her instantly.

Edith stepped in closer to Beverly, standing at the pants around her ankles. With a slight smirk, she bent over, coming face to face with Beverly, and opened her mouth. A flow of blood began pouring out, spilling onto Beverly’s naked lap.

She stood quickly and ran out of the lavatory with her pants around her ankles, soaked in blood. Students’ mouths dropped as they saw her running into the hallway screaming. Beverly ran from the building shouting that the dead girl she dissected in class was in the bathroom and had spit blood onto her. Students and faculty couldn’t help but laugh at the story, figuring she’d just had a feminine accident and didn’t know how else to handle it.

That is of course, until a week later when another student shared a similar story.

While in his infectious diseases research class, Gareth Davis felt a harsh chill come over his body. He had been sitting in front of the window in hopes of getting a breath of fresh air in escape of the reek of disinfectant alcohol that his teacher so overzealously used. During a previous class the scent had pierced its way into Davis’ nose and burrowed a nice little home in his brain where it released itself from time to time, making him unable to eat from the nausea it sparked.

The cold breeze charged through the window even more and when two other students complained that it was too cold, Davis gave in and began breathing through his mouth as he got up to close the window. As he pushed down on it, an unusual, invisible force prevented it from being closed. It felt as though someone was pushing the window up as he was pushing it down. Davis gripped the bottom of the window frame, pulling down as hard as he could when suddenly he felt it finally give way and it violently slammed shut onto both of his hands. His scream was heard five buildings away.

Davis looked up at the blood sprayed window and for a brief second saw the reflection of a familiar face that was not his in the window. Edith’s image smiled at him as he screamed in pain, the window still pressing onto the bones in his fingers.

Suddenly, the face vanished. Davis’ heart jumped inside his chest and he vomited onto the floor. The class was stunned into silence by what had just happened in front of them. Even the teacher, Mrs. Flemmel, didn’t run to the boy to help until after a moment of staring at him and the window.

All of the bones in both of Davis’ hands had been broken from the incident and the radial artery of his left hand had been severed to the point of almost not being able to be repaired.

Davis later admitted to a classmate after the incident that he had copped feels of Edith’s breasts and vaginal areas during and after classes and had masturbated while alone in the lab on more than one occasion.

At precisely 9:43pm one Wednesday evening, all of the lights of the Reynolds Dormitory went out. Margot Sanders in room 316 and her roommate Colleen French had been up studying for their neuroscience midterm the next morning. When the lights went out, they along with every other girl on the third floor went into the hallway to see what was going on. It was pitch black except for two candles that Molly Grainer, the dorm’s resident assistant, had lit.

“What the heck’s going on? Lights out isn’t until ten o’clock. We still have fifteen more minutes,” said one student in pink pajamas.

Molly Grainer switched hands as the candle wax began to melt onto her skin.

“I know. I didn’t touch anything though. It must just be a power outage. I’ll call the Dean to see if something happened to the generator,” she said.

“It couldn’t have been a power outage though. Our radio still worked after the lights went out. You can even hear it from here. I think it’s just the lights,” said another student.

All of the girls began to talk amongst themselves when suddenly the lights quickly flicked on and then back off again.

“What is going on?” Colleen shrieked.

A heavy breeze came through the hallway and Molly’s candle was blown out. It was pitch black and the girls began to quietly whimper and some cried out loud. Suddenly, a dull moan filled the air and all the girls fell silent. The moan morphed into a gut wrenching cry and a single bulb at the west end of the hallway began to flicker on, showing that someone was standing just below it. She was in a small black dress and had blood dripping from her mouth and eyes. It was Edith.

Without seeming to move at all but almost instantly she was now standing in front of Margot, who had at this point already wet herself. Edith’s crying then turned to blood-curdling screams as she reached her hand under her own dress, pulling out a tiny blood dripping fetus. She held it in her hand in front of the faces of all the girls and then threw it onto the ground. The lights all went out once again and everyone screamed.

Similar incidents to these continued to occur over the next thirty-seven years. Yarn became known all over the campus as she made more than frequent appearances in the Reynolds Dormitory and Hyde Hall.

In 1969, the school destroyed and rebuilt several old buildings on the campus, including Hyde Hall, Smythe Hall, and Reynolds Dormitory; the three buildings where Yarn’s ghost had been sighted. The visual hauntings halted soon after the new buildings went up, but to this day, on rare occasions one can still hear the painful screams of Yarn’s body being mutilated.