During the funeral of a young woman, four men were unable to lift the coffin, and then the girl’s mother demanded it be opened
The weather that day matched the mood: gray skies, damp air, and a light breeze swaying the trees in the cemetery. Everything seemed ordinary, like at other funerals – until eight men had to lift the coffin. It looked luxurious – dark wood, polished to a shine, massive handles.
Inside lay the young woman.
Her death was a shock to everyone who knew her: beautiful, intelligent, and kind-hearted. She was only twenty-two.
Officially – an accident. But rumors varied.
Some said they saw her crying the day before, others that she had threatened someone.
No one knew for sure. The family insisted on a quick farewell. When it was time to lower the coffin into the grave, the men approached, grabbed the handles – and suddenly…
— One, two, three!
— one of them commanded.
The coffin barely moved. — Again!
— he said. — One, two, three!
They strained, groaned, panted – but could not lift it.
It seemed filled with stones. — What the…? — muttered one of the pallbearers, wiping his brow.
— It weighs as if three people were inside!
The men exchanged glances. Around them, tense silence.
Some guests were already whispering:
— This isn’t normal…
— Has this happened before? — No, never.
One of the funeral workers said quietly:
I’ve carried dozens of coffins.
Even men’s. But this heavy – never. It… shouldn’t weigh this much.
Then the girl’s mother, dressed entirely in black, with a cold, anguished face, stepped forward.
She looked at the men, then at the coffin. — Open it, — she said sharply, without hesitation.
— Are you sure? — tried a funeral worker to object.
— I said – open it.
The workers exchanged glances and silently obeyed. They unscrewed the screws and slightly lifted the lid. The girl lay calmly – in a light dress, with flowers in her hands.
Her face was peaceful.
Everything as it should be. But the inner sides – higher than usual.
Under the thin covering – a bulge. One of the men carefully lifted the inner insert.
At that moment, everyone recoiled.
Inside, in a hidden compartment, wrapped in black plastic… lay a man’s body. Middle-aged, apparently, with a tattoo on the neck and marks. The face had begun decomposing, but the features were still recognizable.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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