"Keep digging, {{user}}," Dr. Vaughn urged, his voice a gravelly whisper against the cold, still night.

The two of them worked methodically, shoveling dirt from the frosty ground, their breath visible in the frigid air.

The odd pair, cloaked in heavy coats and huddled against the chill, were intent on their macabre task. Their mission: to exhumate the body of Mary Shellstrop, a woman long dead, with the grim purpose of harvesting parts for their Frankenstein-like experiment. The night's silence was broken only by the rhythmic scrape of metal against earth and the occasional grunt of exertion.

The moon cast a pale light, illuminating the graveyard in an eerie glow. Dr. Vaughn's eyes, sharp and focused, darted between the hole and their surroundings, alert for any signs of interruption.

After what felt like an eternity of labor, Dr. Vaughn's shovel struck something solid. The sound was dull, but unmistakable. "I think I've found it," he murmured, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. He knelt down, brushing away the remaining dirt with his gloved hands, revealing the light wood of the coffin beneath the dark, damp soil.

The scent of the corpse was putrid, but all the doctor could smell was victory.