Going deeper and deeper into the woods, nature overtook any vestige of humanity. Low foliage, good sun intake, this would be a great place to bury a body.
"Ya know buddy, this reminds me of my old haunt in Canada," he reminisced with the body. He shrugged as the shovel hit the soft ground, "but I don't have that anymore."
He dug a good load off dirt and flung it to the side. He did this a couple more times before he had to wipe his brow from a little sweat, "Yer a lot of work, but it'd be worth it," he assured the corpse, whose stentch seemed to attract local flys, as he went on digging.
"Y'know ya ain't the first person I buried out in the woods," he kept digging, trying to converse with the corpse, "ya could relate to that other bastard now could ya," flies started to fly into the open mouth of the corpse -- Creed just shooed them away.
"As I was sayin' I remember when I was a kid doin' this -- kinda like de ja vu ain't it," he joked digging the ditch a little deeper.
"My pop used ta tell me he wanted a decent burial when he died, " his pace quickened as shovels of dirt flung onto the dirt body. Creed stopped and brushed of the dirt, "yer going ta be surrounded with this stuff, no use fer ya havin' it on ya know.
He went back to digging, "where was I, ah good o' pop," he looked at the ditch he made -- a good one foot deep, he'd have a long way to go, "this is the same man that used ta beat me mom and me -- ya can relate now bastard," the corpse slumped over, as Creed cursed under his breath. He stopped digging and walked over to it, placing it just right so the eyes stayed focused on Creed.
"There we go," Creed went back to digging, "I probably bet ya put Iggy in the basement, hell, I smelled the fear you put into him in there and his mother -- where'dya think I got this piece-o-garbage shovel," the shovel hit a rock. He just picked it up with the end of the shovel and flung it aside. He heard a good thump as he heard the scurrying of animals.
"Yeah, I was in there too once, Pop always loved hidin' his mistakes," a forceful shove broke the end of the shovel as Creed brought it closer to view, "now look what ya made me do," he walked over and bashed the skull of the corpse with the broken shovel handle. The satisfying crack of wood and bone made Creed smile a little.
"Well, this mistake got loose and killed his maker," he yanked the arm of the corpse, dragging it on the ground towards the shallow grave. Something snagged on the corpse, as he pulled harder. Flesh tore free, Creed held an arm up to his face.
"Didn't know yer where that fragile," he shrugged as he threw that part into the two foot pit, "That's when I found out he killed me Mom, saw her corpse there in bed." His face drooped a little as he dragged the maimed body to the edge of the pit.
"I buried her good, the whole six feet deep deal and all -- and I was just only eleven," He kicked the corpse into the ditch, "but here's my secret buddy, I buried my father second -- I knew I'd be too tired ta finish the job."
He started to push the mound of dirt he made towards the pit, "after that, it was the first time I slept in a bed -- they're comfortable ya know," some dirt fell into the grave, but he stopped pushing, "I went back ta finish the job, but my father's body was gone -- all I smelled were traces of scavengers, blood and piss."
He gave a final push as dirt shallowly covered the corpse, "I want ta give ya the same honor," he brushed his hands clean and walked out of the woods.